substance of the west

asimovfangirl  asked:

Hi! I hope you are having a great day. As someone who likes DCAU's Wally West I always wanted to know your opinion about him in the episode "Flash and Substance" (the Flash apreciation episode): Do you think Wally being caring and super nice is a reflection of how awesome he is or he has became a better superhero/person by working with the other Leaguers? Maybe both? Sorry for the lenght of the question, take care :)

Both, I think!

“Flash and Substance” really pinpoints why I love Wally so much as a character. Even with powers, he’s the most human member of the league–and, in a lot of ways, he not only serves as the heart of the team, but keeps it grounded in its collective humanity. That’s been canon since before JLU: in “A Better World,” the sole difference between the Justice League and the Justice Lords is a living Wally West.

But “Flash and Substance” is the first time we really see the Flash in his element. In the League, he comes off as a goof-off and often as a minor player, and “Flash and Substance” is where we learn why. Wally is essentially a local hero. His heroics, and even his relationship to his villains, are grounded in his community. His day job is in law enforcement–specifically, the less flashy end of it. He fights supervillains, but that’s a relatively small aspect of how he engages with the people of Central City. (We get a glimpse of that earlier, too, in another of my favorite episodes, “Comfort and Joy.”) He’s just a really, really good dude.

If Batman is the mastermind/general of the league, Flash is the social worker. He’s not solving global problems, but he knows every single person he’s encountered by name, and he treats them all like people.

There’s a scene midway through the episode that gets discussed a lot, where the Flash, Batman, and Orion encounter the Trickster in a villain bar. They’re trying to get info on a rogues’ plot to attack the opening of the Flash Museum–and this, above all other moments, is where you see why the Flash is so goddamn great.

Batman and Orion, true to form, are ready to beat the information out of the Trickster. Flash, horrified, calls them off, sits down with the Trickster at the bar, and gently convinces him not only to tip the heroes off to the other rogues’ plans, but to check himself back into the psychiatric hospital from which he’s escaped with a promise of a visit and a game of darts (”the soft kind”). (And you know he’s gonna follow through, too, because of “Comfort and Joy.”)

Orion is floored. Batman is impressed. Flash is nonplussed: to him, this is how being a superhero works.

And that’s why Wally West is the best guy in the Justice League, and “Flash and Substance” is my favorite episode of JLU.

Goodness is adorable, and it is immortal. When it is trodden down into the earth it springs up again, and human beings scrabble in the dust to find the first green seedling of its return. The stock cannot survive save by the mutual kindness of men and women, of old and young, of state and individual. Hatred comes before love, and gives the hater strange and delicious pleasures, but its works are short-lived; the head is cut from the body before the time of natural death, the lie is told to frustrate the other rogue’s plan before it comes to fruit. Sooner or later society tires of making a mosaic of these evil fragments; and even if the rule of hatred lasts some centuries it occupies no place in real time, it is a hiatus in reality, and not the vastest material thefts, not world wide raids on mines and granaries, can give it substance.
—  rebecca west
Anything with Tsuna, Dino and Enma acting like a Mafia boss


Tsuna did his best not to shuffle his feet. It had been a half a year already since he inherited the role of the 10th boss of the Vongola family. He had yet to get used to the large and mostly empty rooms that took up the vast space of the Vongola manner where he now resided. Pale orange eyes stared down the long oak table and to the dark wood doors that lead to the hall.

Thin fingers fiddled with the large ring that rested on his his middle finger. The tinkling of the chain that connected the main ring to the one around his pinky sounded softly through the massive room. Today was to be the first of many meetings that will be held by him in this room. But it seems that they planned meeting will have to delayed.

Tsuna’s dull orange eyes flashed as his intuition rang warning. The heavy door slammed against the wall and Tsuna’s head tipped to the side. The bullet that had been aimed at his head brushed passed him, and into the wall behind him. He stared calmly at the large group of men dressed in dark suits much like his own flooded the room and blocked all the other doors in the room.

There was a moment of silence as the lone Vongola boss stared down the group of intruders. Shifting his stance so his hands were lazily resting in his suit pockets, his shoulders lifted higher as he straightened his back.

“Well then Vongola scum, got anything to say before we gun you down like you did to my men last week.” The thick set man stood in front of him on the other side of the table. Tsuna recognized the main from his picture from the file he had been reading earlier today. He would recognize that poorly done handlebar mustache anywhere.

This man was the head of a small mafia family known as the Torcia Blu that had recently started in Chieri. The family had grown fast surprisingly and they had started to spread and gain territory in Turin. Turin had been under the protection of the Vongola for decades so when they had started trouble the men from Vongola stationed there had acted without relaying back to him. They had went off on their own and gunned down a dozen of the Torcia Blu men.

The meeting that was going to be held today was going to be about that exact incident. He had hoped that he could work out a treaty for the Torcia Blu so that they could have a free range of Turin if they kept a low profile. But it looks like the Torcia had pulled the trigger before he could sign the page.

“I can promise you, that there is a perfectly good explanation to what happened. If you would lower your guns we can sit and talk about this peacefully.” He hopped they could see reason to this. But knowing the cruel world of the Mafia he doubted it, but at least he had tried.

“Your words mean nothing to me.” His thick accented voice paused as he spat on the table that stood between them. “When you slowly bleed out, remember it is you who gave the word first, la sporcizia. Gun him down.” A snarl ingrained itself in the thick folds of fat on the man’s face.

Tsuna closed his eyes and released a deep sigh through his nose. The sounds of guns clicking filled the room. An orange flame on his head flickered to life, as the kind and caring man was replaced with a quiet and calculating mafia boss. Blazing orange eyes revealed themselves from behind his eyelids. “Have it your way then, but there is no going back from here.” He warned, pulling his hands from his pockets, revealing his X-gloves alit and ready.

“You can’t do anything now, Si pezzo di merda. Shot the fool already men.” The chubby man growled and pulled out his own gun from under his pinstriped suit jacket. Turning off the safety and pointing it straight between the Vongola’s eyes “Besides what are you going to do you miserable little man, you have no one but yourself with two dozen guns pointed at you. You don’t scare me, you make me laugh.” A sick grin stretched across his face as he pulled the trigger with a loud bang. The bullet flew through the air and write into the light that hung on the wall, causing the glass bulb to shatter. The Torcia boss blinked in surprise to find his target gone.

“You should have accepted my offer when you had the choice.” Dread filled the short man’s body at the voice that sounded behind him. Slowly he turned his head to gaze into the calm orange eyes. “Vi prego di scusarmi Torcia.”


 "No, no, Romiaro just stay where you are and protect the others.“ Dino grunted as he tripped over his own shoes. He dodged the bullet that was aimed him not as gracefully as he would have if he had had his family with him, but he had dodged it non the less. At this moment he really cursed his inability to function properly with out his guardians with him. He was a grown man for fucks sake, he should be able to walk in a straight line, or dodge a bullet without eating dirt every two steps. 

“Yes I’m sure I am fine Romiaro!” He shouted into his phone as he rolled behind a tree to dodge another bullet. All he wanted to do was spend one more day as a some what normal person before his fathers underground business was passed on to him fully. But no of coarse he couldn’t, because the one day he decides to go to Mafia Land some one decides to break the treaty that mad this land a gray territory.

“Yes I have my whip with me!” Dino growled as he glanced at his whip that was about four trees away from him, before quickly ducking back behind the one that he was hiding behind.

“Yes I have Enzo!” he hissed as a bullet grazed his arm as he ran to the next tree over. He glanced around in desperation. Trees, trees, rock, bush, lake, more trees.

Dino paused for a moment before looking back at the lake. He reached into his pocket and brushed his fingers against Enzo’s hard shell.

“Listen Romairo!” He cut the older man off in the middle of his endless questions. “I am going to be your boss. NO! Correction, I am your boss correct.” He didn’t ask he stated. “So I am telling you as your boss, to stop worrying about me and help the other people in the park escape. Now go do it.” Dino did not give Romiaro a chance to argue and flicked his flip phone closed with a sharp snap.

Pulling Enzo out of his pocket, he bought the turtal to eye level. “Well Enzo I’m counting on you. Good luck little  bud”  He said before he chucked Enzo as far as he could into the lake, silently praying that this would work. 


Enma stared down at the man tied to the chair. His bruised and busted face was sunken in from dehydration and malnutrition he was sure. His hair was greasy and matted with blood and other substances that Enma did not want know. His once clean and prestige west-wood suit was now in shreds and stained beyond repair. Torture was not a pretty job, but was required if you wanted to get anywhere in the mafia ranks.

And that’s what he was doing slowly making his way up the ranks before he could face those Vongola traitors. So he would pick a family to target every month or so, each one stronger than the last. He would then have one of his guardians go and pick off the person that would know the most but would be missed the least and then they would torture them for information.

They then would use that information to one up the family. They had two choices, either join them or fall. Most have chosen to fall so far but a few here and their have decided to join him.

“So I’ve been told you are ready to talk Mr. Mitchells.” Enma’s hollow voice bounced off the empty cement walls of the dark room that they have kept the hostages in. This method was going at a snail’s pass but it would be worth it in the end. His fingers the cool trigger of the gun in his sweaters pocket, as he halfheartedly listen to the traitor blubber all the secrets he knows about the family he was part of. What a sad pathetic person. Enma’s grip tightens on the heavy gun, impatient with the man before him.

“We thank you for your cooperation Mr. Mitchells.” Enma drawled in boredom. “I’m sure your wife is anxious and wondering where you have been all this time.” Enma smiled a empty smile at the man before signaling for Julie to release the man.

“T-t-th-thank you.” The man wept as he fell from the chair and onto the blood stained floor on his hands and knees before slowly crawling towards the exit.

“Of course Mr.Mitchell, I’ll be sure to tell her your passing was quick and painless.” At this statement the man on the floor froze in fear. Before he could even turn to plead, the room echoed with the sound of a gunshot before the heavy thud of the man’s now lifeless body hit the floor.

Enma turned the safety back on his pistol before putting it back in his sweater pocket. Turning to the two suits standing in one of the corners of the room, he nodded to the lifeless body. “Clean this mess up,” then turning to Julie, his red eyes glowing slightly in the dark room. “Greater the others we will be discussing the plans during dinner.” Enma ordered before leaving the room. He needed a shower after that.


Bites and Washington Heights

As requested by @freestrawberrynight
-The reader is a no-maj and attacked by one of Newt’s creatures. In my head, this started out as more of a fluff and turned into something different. Enjoy!
You quickened your pace as you walked down the streets of New York City.

You had a very important job interview in a very sketchy part of town, however, you were NOT going to be late.

You turned into a narrow alley, praying to any higher power that you were going in the right direction.

Now, you had never been to the big city before. In fact, you’ve never been to any big city before. The loud noises, claustrophobic crowds…it wasn’t exactly your style.

So you can imagine how thrilled you were to hear you might transfer full time to the “city that never sleeps.”
But you liked to sleep, you’d argue.
It’s one of your best skills.

You actively took in your surroundings of the alleyway, which consisted of some rodent in a garbage bin, old takeout boxes, profanity sprayed to the wall in graffiti, and so many more pleasant images.

You frowned. Now this can’t be right…
You tore the map from your coat pocket, and to your utter disbelief, there was no 155th street anywhere on your directions.

“Damn…” you curse to yourself, and at the setting sun over the rooftops.
You turned on your heel, ready to charge out of the alleyway, when something in the corner of your eye caught your attention.

The rodent in the garbage bin had taken a sudden interest in you.
It was probably the largest, most peculiar looking rat you’d ever seen.
And even so, this rat had some sort of tentacles on its back.

Before you even had time to react to this absurd creation, it started to lunge at you at full speed.
You let out a sharp cry as it clung to your neck, and you immediately felt it’s sharp fangs drill into your skin.

“OW! Get off get off GET OFF” you wailed, more in shock than pain. Your feet suddenly slid out from under you, and your back bit the cement with a distressing crack!

Soon after your outburst, you heard footsteps hurrying your way, then an angry, accented voice.

You felt a pair of hands struggle to pry the creature away from your face.
For such a small creature, it sure had a lot of willpower.

Some awkward groping and some painful scratching later, the strange creature finally released itself from your face, and whoever was helping you out was sent plummeting to the ground.

There was a moment of silence while the two of you just stared at each other, and when it seemed he couldn’t take the tension any longer, the man cleared his throat.

“I am so so sorry, he wasn’t suppose to have gotten out, I thought I had secured the lock…I feel absolutely awful. Are you alright?” You focused on the sight in front of you. A (rather handsome) young man in a long blue coat was scrambling to his feet, stuttering all the while, and swiftly offered you a hand to help you up.
“I-I don’t think so” You said, accepting it.
“But did he bite you anywhere? Are there any burning sensations under the skin?

You knit your eyebrows and brought your arm up to scratch behind your neck.
“Maybe…he-OW” you howled, and the boy instantly flinched, his face twisting in concern.
Your fingernails had rubbed across some of the peeling skin, and you felt a warm liquid trickle down your neck.

It was, of course, furiously bleeding.
“Right there, bit me right there”
“Oh dear…” he mumbled, and took hold of your shoulders lightly.

He suddenly recoiled a bit at the touch.
“If I may…” he started, as if asking your permission to inspect at your wound.
You pulled your hair away from the bite, giving him your full consent to do whatever-the-hell with your neck.

He offered you a small, reassuring smile, and rested his fingers around the bite.
“Fortunately, the bite is not severe enough to do any immediate damage, but it would be wise to disinfect that when you get home, should anything…irregular start to happen” You flinched away, staring at him wildly.

“Any immediate damage? Irregular? Wait hold on, who even are you? And what the hell was that?”

You finally came back to your senses, trying to comprehend how the last three minutes of your life had just gone.

“Oh, my apologies. My name is Newt Scamander, and this here is Murtlap. A very, very naughty little creature who’s definitely earned a stern lecture this evening” you watched in utter confusion as he scolded the young…whatever it was.

“Pardon me, a Murtlap?” You interjected, obviously still lost.
You saw the light behind Newt’s eyes waver a bit, as if wondering how to come up with a way to respond.

“It’s…the name I gave to my pet. This rat”
He held up the very beast that just attacked you.
“But it has tentacles”
“…he likes it when I dress him up. Today’s theme, marine biology!”
“If I agree to believe your story, will you stop trying to prove it?”

He looked at you in surprise, but nodded meekly, staring down at his shoes like a scolded child.
There was something odd about the way this man presented himself. His body language reflected someone who, with a whole heart, wanted to be anywhere but here.

You felt your heart sink to your stomach.
“Not that I don’t enjoy talking to you…Mr. Scamander”
“Please, call me Newt.” He seemed to respond automatically. You smiled.
“To be honest, I’m completely intrigued by you…Newt.”
He pulled the Murtlap closer to his breast pocket.
“Is that so?”

“Foreign young man with some lab project of a pet wandering around New York City, attacking young women? Sounds intriguing to me.”
“Yes…in fact you’d never believe how I ended up here” he muttered so quietly, you almost couldn’t hear it.

He cleared his throat, and turned his attention to his little brown briefcase, as if trying to turn the subject away from what he had just said. He picked it up and redid one of the latches that seemed to have popped off.

“I’ve just been having a rather…peculiar evening. Forgive me”
“There’s nothing to forgive, I was actually on my way to an interview when I got horribly lost. Hence, the attack. Hence, you showing up. Hence…I miss the interview.” He looked back up to you.

“Where…where is this interview?”
You searched around the floor for your map, which was now crumpled and pounded into the dirt. In a single moment of repugnance, you scraped off any mystery substances, and squinted to read the address.

“West 155th street, so it must be here…hold on” you looked a little more closely at the address, and come to a sinking realization.
“It says 115th street. So close.” You mentally kicked yourself. You looked up at Newt, who now seemed to be lost in thought, contemplating to himself.

After concluding that he won’t be saying anything more, you patted his arm and picked up the remaining items from the floor.
“Well I best be going. I want to be at least a little on time” you noticed Newt was fidgeting with something in his sleeve.

He then took a step closer to you, and took out what would look like a magic wand if you didn’t know any better.
“Promise not to say a word about what I’m about to do?”

You honestly had no clue where this was going. But did you really care at this point?
“Okay…” you breathe, and in an instant, you two were no longer standing in the dusty alley, but outside a clean headquarters, on west 115th street, Washington Heights.

You stood without words, just staring at Newt’s nonchalant expression.
“That was just beginning to make up for my inconvenience to you today. Oh and by the way, I never did catch your name.”
You try to shake yourself from your trance, finding yourself completely forgetting your own name.

“Oh god…”
“What peculiar names muggles are coming up with nowadays.”
“My name is (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” He smiled and reached his hand out to shake yours.
“(Y/N) (L/N)…I have a strange feeling I’ll be seeing more of you”

And in another instant, the boy was gone, along with any sanity you may have had left.
But you couldn’t help but smile at such a peculiar sequence of events.
You pushed open the glass doors and took a seat in the waiting room, a whole 4 minutes early.

You really did hope you’d see more of that peculiar boy.
And it just so happens, you would.

anonymous asked:

any horror au's?

  • After Character A receives the news their great-grandparent has died, Character A learns that they’ve inherited the family’s dilapidated ranch. Broke and seeing this as an opportunity to escape from their past demons – gangs, illegal substances, bad reputation, ugly relationships, ext – Character A moves out west. Unbeknownst to them, the quaint and eccentric town that Character A has moved to has some very special rituals for welcoming in new neighbors.
  • Magical universe AU where Character A believes that they have discovered the key to living a near immortal life…but the main ingredient is in Character B’s blood.
  • “I keep waking up in the middle of the night because something is moving in my walls, but recently, I’ve been hearing it moving around in my closet and I don’t think that I can keep staying awake like this.” AU 
  • While rehearsing for a school play, a miscellaneous group of kids are plunged into a realm of horror. All of the school doors are locked, the windows are sealed, the lights are out, and there’s something roaming the halls.
  • Character A is a writer who’s taken a retreat to the mountains to find inspiration for their new romance novel. While up there, they meet Character B, a clairvoyant who says that Character A is in danger. This wouldn’t bother Character A – they’re not superstitious, that’s silly – but they’re getting the unsettling feeling that something is stalking them. 
I’ve finally realized why I don’t like WA. At first I thought it was that I didn’t feel any chemistry, but it’s more than that… is because Iris is such a meh character in the relationship and the flash team. She doesn’t bring anything in particular, she’s only there to be the hero’s girlfriend and give him the “motivational speech”, and is kinda sad cause where were able to see her badass journalist side in season 1-2.. I wish the writers gave her substance instead of pushing the WA ship.
—  Anonymous

travelwithmethen  asked:

hey as a new and very obsessed fan of the x-files i was wondering if there are any mulder/scully fics that you think every shippers needs to read? Like awesome classics. Or just your faves :) thanks hun' happy new year!

What a great question! 

I have SO MANY favorites that it would be impossible to list them all, but here are a few old school fics that I absolutely adore:

Mustang Sally and Rivka T: Iolokus Saga

There have been tens of thousands of words written over the last few weeks about the amazingness of this saga, but I have to say it again: your education as a Phile is NOT complete until you read it. It can be tough going at times. The whole thing is long - four books and three companion stories, 271,000 words in total. There’s violence, rape, incest, (insanely) hot sex, and loads of bad puns and similes. There are some who hate this series but many who love it, love it, LOVE it. I’m of course, in the latter group. One thing I want to discuss about the fic is the wealth of truly interesting original characters, who feel like completely realized people: Zippy, George, Warwick and Ingveld, and, of course, the most winning baby in all of fanfic ever, the Mooselet. Anyhow, read it. Just read it. You’ll fall in love with this dark, twisted and often hilarious world that coalesces at the end into something beautifl and very real.

“Scully, ” I started, “you know I would give almost anything for all of this not to have happened to you.”

“Almost?” she asked in a slightly sharp tone.

There was a time when I wouldn’t have qualified the statement.

“Miranda. I wouldn’t sacrifice her for anything.”

Curling herself up into a half-seated position, she pulled up her legs and I sat in the space on the sofa that was still warm from her body. Despite what she had just said, she leaned against me, boneless and limp as the Mooselet. I could smell the soap on her skin and the dark vanilla and almond smell that was only her. God I missed this, the silent intimacy that had evaporated like perfume oil when we had started sleeping together. We’d gotten the physical world and all those pleasures, and lost everything else.

“Is she your salvation?” Scully asked in a dreamy voice, her head drooping like a daffodil with no water against my shoulder.


“That’s good,” she said in the singsong tone of one already asleep.

Meredith: A Show of Strength

This is a story that does not get nearly enough attention these days, a shame because it’s nothing but gorgeous prose and shattering angst. Set in a post-colonization world, it follows two women who are ostensibly the same but very, very different. I don’t want to give away too much about the plot but know this - you’re a lucky person if you get to experience this almost unbearably gorgeous and emotinally satisfying story. Also, the title comes from an Echo and the Bunnymen song, so you know it’s got to good.

I’ve been alive for only 3 months, and in that time I’ve broken 7 mirrors. By my calculations, that equals 49 years of bad luck. Just enough to last me until my statistically predicted death. This perverted existence couldn’t get any worse.

What a cruel fate to hate the way you look. To despise the mudded, rusty hair, the brittle-cool gaze, the ivory skin – you’re not beautiful when you’re just an imitation of the almighty Her. A pale carbon-copy. A flawed mirror image. When it gets too bad, I take a swing at myself.

Plausible Deniability: The Carrot and the Stick and The Clock Watcher

Hilarity ensures when Mulder’s first time with Scully doesn’t exactly go as he planned. Mulder’s POV in these stories feels especially true to life since Plausible Deniability was one of a handful of male writers in the fandom back in the day.

“I am that resolved not to repeat last night’s fiasco, in which I passed my first night in bed with Scully ludicrously clad in an Oxford shirt and a striped tie.  Yes, while millions of men around the world enjoy casual sex, I do it in office attire.”

Marguerite: But Ourselves

The ultimate post-Tithonus fic. Mulder copes with the aftermath of his partner’s shooting and the very real possibility of her death. The story is thick with pain, guilt, and the desire for revenge but never goes overboard thanks to Marguerite’s deft touch.

Flecks of iron-red fell like arsenic snow as he flexed his hands. He followed in silence, straining to hear the beep of the machines and the artificial breath that kept Scully alive. The hard red seat was no comfort. He looked down at his shoes with their dusting of flaked blood.

Scully, Scully, Scully.

Cold metal touched his face. He looked up - it was too close to focus on, but he knew the feel, even thought he recognized the smell.

“We had to remove it before the surgery started. Would you like to hang on to it for her?”

It went around his neck as it had been around hers. Trembling fingers brushed the cross.

Jerry: The Substance of Things

Mulder and Scully investigate the disappearance of teenage boys in West Virginia, leading Scully to examine her faith and her relationship with Mulder. I adore the slow burn between Mulder and Scully in this fic and the complexity of the characterization of Scully. (Full disclosure: I beta read this story.)

She sat up in bed, crossing her legs under the covers. She let herself imagine. Mulder’s hands, his lips…Mulder expressing with his body what he had with his actions and his words. She bent her head to her intertwined fingers, as if in prayer. She recalled the words of the Psalm:

“Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.”

Well, thought Scully with a smile, there is one thing I desire here on earth. The question is, do I have the faith to reach for it?

“But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Scully stood up and walked to the bathroom, clicking on the light as she entered. She stared at herself in the mirror, unconsciously pulling her fingers through her rumpled hair. God, she thought, if this is not a leap you want me to take, you’d better stop me now.

She didn’t hear any argument.

Good reading! Happy New Year to you, too!

Even if you are "Team Westallen"

I am not here for your ass if all you do is shit on Iris for every little thing that she does. Now she’s “annoying” because she’s going to do her fucking job and investigating STAR labs which may create some problems for Barry? REALLY? How about you be fucking outraged that they are all still LYING TO HER DAMN FACE about everything. If they’d tell her the truth, she wouldn’t be investigating, and even if she was, you wouldn’t have to worry that she’d run back to Mason and tell him everything she knows. 

Iris has a job to do and finally has her own storyline, if you just want her around to prop up Barry and be a love interest with no substance, then I really don’t want shit to do with you. Iris West deserves better. 

You can miss me with that bullshit.