#“staying in the closet is like being buried alive and feeling the spectre of death as years turn to seconds and reality melts around you”
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Today I saw I Saw the TV Glow
I deeply regret watching I Saw the TV Glow
#i saw the tv glow#this is the last time I take media recommendations from 4tran#this movie is a vision of my future and the future is pitch black#the themes don't have what I'm assuming to be the intended effect when transitioning was never an option#“staying in the closet is like being buried alive and feeling the spectre of death as years turn to seconds and reality melts around you”#good to know the next however many years I have left are gonna be just as bad as I expected if not worse#thanks for that
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Not His to Change
My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Robert Queen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (if you really, really like bittersweet endings) Summary: Oliver gets to the afterlife once his work as the Spectre is completed and finds a surprise - and a lesson - waiting for him. Notes: Basically canon-compliant but not for Ol*city or M*rlance fans. Not really all that Lauriver either, tbh, this fic doesn’t really have an audience. Oh well. *Can be read on AO3, link is in bio*
As Oliver felt the energy leave him, he used his last remaining moments as the Spectre to construct the new world that his friends would inhabit together, a combination of two Earths. Two timelines needing to be merged. He brought back some whose lives had been cut short, softened the blows that others had suffered and crafted what he felt was the best version of reality for each of his loved ones that he could think of.
There were some things that he could not change. His father still remained buried on Lian Yu. Oliver could not think of a way for him to have become the Green Arrow without his father’s sacrifice out there in the life raft; the truth was, he was almost more scared of the man he might have ended up being without the island.
The other was Laurel. Oliver’s heart ached, but guilt twisted in his gut at the thought of callously cutting the doppelganger he had gotten to know the last few years down just for the crime of not being the ‘right’ one. The fact was, he had lost his Laurel years ago. And without her loss, the whole second wave of heroes in their city would never have been recruited. Her legacy had had that much of an effect. So he did his best to create the life he wished she had had the chance to have before it had ended; the life she deserved.
A wistful part of him wished that was a life with him, the same way he had wished it in the dream world the Dominators had created. But guilt stayed his hand again: Mia. Getting to know his daughter as an adult made her so real and alive, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her the right to existence. In the new version of Earth, he would remain with Felicity if only for her. So he would give Laurel her happy ending that the Undertaking had robbed her of instead.
Everything decided, his eyes slipped closed, and Oliver felt himself drift away from the realm of the living. Gradually, he felt awareness settle back into his body. The bone-deep exhaustion had left him, and he slowly sat up in the bed he found himself resting in.
It was his old bed, the same that he had had in the Queen Manor all those years ago. Brow furrowing in puzzlement, Oliver rose and looked through the dresser and closet, finding clothes to change into. Once changed, he ventured out of the room and down familiar hallways and stairs. He could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen, so Oliver cautiously pushed the door open, freezing in shock at the sight of the two people sitting at the kitchen island.
“—think you’ll stick around long, or back to traveling?” His father was asking.
Laurel shrugged, though as she did so, her eyes drifted to him in the doorway. “There you are, Ollie. We were starting to wonder if you were planning to spend your whole afterlife asleep.”
Her remark lacked the bite Siren would have had, her smile light and teasing instead.
“This is… we’re all here, then? There’s not a- a—” He wasn’t sure how to voice his question. Oliver couldn’t remember if being the Spectre had given him knowledge of Heaven or Hell, but he would have imagined wherever he ended up, he wouldn’t be sharing it with both Laurel and his father. They’d sat on rather opposite ends of the scale of morality, after all.
“Welcome to life after death, son,” his dad said. “Or what did that Dumbledore character call it in those books you liked?”
“The next great adventure,” Laurel supplied.
Oliver still felt a little numb, but as he drew up to his father’s chair, the older man stood and embraced him.
“It’s good to see you,” Oliver mumbled into his father’s shoulder. His real father. Not a dream, not a hallucination. Although, was it really the same thing?
He had changed the least about his father and his life, Oliver felt he could say. But even still, he had done what he could to clean up this and that, with the exception of the affair that had created Emiko. Even that he had improved with Emiko being a welcome member of the family rather than his parents hiding her from him and Thea. So was he talking to the father he knew, or just another figment of the man that wore his face? He hadn’t considered that at all, and it made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
Over his father’s shoulder, Laurel was watching him, her look both knowing and compassionate all at once. But this was a Laurel he had never really known either, as much a stranger to him as her doppelganger had once been.
His dad pulled back, keeping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder as he looked between the two of them. “Laurel asked me to let her know when you were coming to join us. There’s some things you ought to talk about, and I think she can explain it better than me.” There was a brief squeeze to his shoulder. “I know how hard you tried.”
“Tried what?”
But his dad walked out of the kitchen. Laurel slowly got up from her own chair but maintained a few feet of distance between them. “So, how was being master of the universe?”
It took Oliver a second to place the memory that question stirred; sitting on the floor of her apartment with a bowl of ice cream in his hands. He hung his head. “Definitely not what it’s cracked up to be. Let’s say I don’t miss it.”
“Not wanting that kind of power for yourself is what makes you a hero, Oliver. But… you did make some choices. Choices that weren’t yours to make.”
He licked his lips. “I couldn’t just kill your doppleganger.”
Laurel held up a hand. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about me and Tommy.”
He stared at her in confusion. “You loved Tommy.”
Laurel sighed. “I did in a way. But he wasn’t the love of my life. You know that better than anyone.”
Oliver shifted from one foot to the other. “I had a daughter, Laurel.”
“And I’m not saying you should have given her up, either. I am saying that I didn’t need to be forced into some kind of consolation prize marriage of convenience to make you feel better. I was happier without it.”
“How do you even know that?” He couldn’t help asking. If he had changed time, didn’t that mean everyone else forgot the old timeline? Wasn’t that how Barry said it worked?
Laurel shook her head. “Since I was dead, I got to pick which version of memories I could keep. I chose the version of the life I actually lived.”
Oliver swallowed a lump that was stubbornly trying to rise up in his throat. “Then… you really are my Laurel.”
“Mm-hm.”
He took a step closer, unable to help himself from folding her into his arms. It had been so long, and he had missed her every single day. She hugged him back.
“Everything you went through, everything you lost,” he said in her ear. “Why would you want to remember?”
“Because it created me. The best version of me I know how to be. I wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from me.” She drew back and cupped his cheek. “Not even you.”
“Only you could be that stubborn,” he said, the warmth in his tone belying his words. Laurel smirked back at him. “What happens when Tommy passes?” Even if he had brought his friend back along with so many of his loved ones, Oliver knew it couldn’t last forever. Everyone died eventually. And when his friend got to the afterlife, expecting a version of Laurel that now only existed as a fiction Oliver had invented to assuage his own conscience…
“Then he’ll find his place in the afterlife. I don’t imagine he’ll want to see me, at any rate.” Laurel left his arms completely, walking back to her chair to get a bag that she’d left hanging off the arm. “Considering he was getting ready to file for divorce before the me in that timeline was killed.”
Oliver’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”
“From what I was told, he could see exactly what he saw in the timeline you and I remember. No matter how much power you have to wield, you can’t change who people are in their bones, Oliver. Only they can change themselves. And I wasn’t about to do that.” She finished slinging the bag over her shoulder, fixing her denim jacket so that it sat properly.
She loved him still. The lump was back, and he brought a hand up to try and wipe at the moisture starting to gather at his eyes before it could get out of control.
“If I could — if there had been a way,” he started. A way for both Laurel and Mia. God, he’d seen the way Mia had gotten on with Laurel’s doppleganger. He was sure his daughter would have found an even more supportive mentor in the Laurel he had known most of his life. The same way Thea once had.
She shook her head sadly. “Your family comes first, Ollie. We both know that. That’s why I’m not staying here. There’s a whole lot of afterlife to explore, a lot of it I didn’t see when I was alive. So you wait here for your family. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t fair, but he knew he would let her go. She was always the bigger person between the two of them, in the end. She walked past him and towards the door, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from saying, “If we’ve got the rest of eternity to spend here, my family might get sick of me after a while.” How many breaks had he and Felicity taken with their relationship, after all?
She looked back, a wan half-smile tugging at one corner of her lips as the long, blonde hair he remembered best spilled over her shoulder. “Then I guess you’ll just have to come running after me if that happens.”
He nodded. “Always.”
“Goodbye, Ollie.”
“Goodbye, Laurel.”
She let herself out of the kitchen, and he heard the front door shut moments later. Slowly, he walked to the island and took the chair she had sat in. Like most times, she had left him with much to think about.
If anyone could see fit to defy him even when he had held the power of a near-God, it was Laurel. A breathy laugh left him at the thought. She always was able to bring him back down to Earth, even when they were no longer on it. Wasn’t that a relief?
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