#Before he became a canary this way of thinking about his life also seems pretty significant

[fmet]

Mithrun is a fantastic, fantastic character. He is undoubtedly severely disabled, cannot care for himself, has clear physical and mental limitations but people still recognize his authority as the Canary’s captain, for his knowledge about the dungeon’s demon, and for his vehemence, and as a result he’s highly respected. This doesn’t mean that his limitations are ignored, but they don’t negate the abilities that he is alleged to have. For a lot of the manga, these extraordinary abilities in spite of his limitations are what define his character. Because he can, and desires to, continue fighting and involving himself in the dungeon’s fate, he does, and we’re expected to believe that because he does is the only reason he can continue going. His exceptionalism in magic, in knowledge, and in character is what is keeping him alive, and without any of these things, his disability would kill him—is what we’re supposed to believe.

But this isn’t what happens. When all three of these points become moot after the dungeon collapses and the demon is defeated, he doesn’t die. He would have died, certainly, if the circumstances were different, but the words Kabru and Senshi spoke to him about the concept of renewal, both directly and indirectly, made him realize how much he could still do with life if he wished. He has a brother and many of the canary’s who are willing to continue caring for him, and in post-canon it’s shown that this is what ends up happening. He lives on not through the brute force of his skills, but through an open perspective and the helping hands of others.

A big overarching question that dungeon meshi likes to pose through it’s story is what makes a person, society, idea, etc, able to propagate— what lets someone or something continue on, establish a legacy, accomplish their goals, or simply not die. We’re shown people who live through their physical strength, their exploitation of others, their charisma, their mind, sheer force of will (whether their own or someone else’s), but all of these are eventually demonstrated to be inefficient on their own, because they disregard the inherent nature of mortal living things: Those that eat, live; Those that eat with others will thrive; and those able to feed others have the highest character of anyone. This is why the Winged Lion is such a powerful concept, this is why Laios makes a good king, this is why Falin survives despite all odds, this is why Thistle doesn’t.

Mithrun may have survived for his revenge, and gained renown for doing so, but he could never live for it, because it inevitably would lead to his death (and this turns out to be what he wanted anyway). It wasn’t his abilities or this desire that made him “worth” rehabilitating or caring for. His disability was never a caveat to these “advantages” of having him live. It’s only his willingness to eat, and others making sure he continues to do so (Misiril, the Canary’s, his brother, Kabru, Senshi), that made his survival for this long possible. Realizing this in the wake of lacking the “admirable” desire for vengeance he once did is one of the more healing character conclusions that Dungeon Meshi offers. As long as he has something he wants to do, he will eat, and he will live, and people will be at his side as he does so. The value of his character “in spite” of his disability is irrelevant.

[magpiefrankie]

I was in Lidl today and suddenly thought of a new doctor who headcanon so now I'm gonna share it and also some others because why not?!

- The Doctor has become something like a cryptid in the UK. With various people over the centuries having written accounts of this mysterious character known only as 'The Doctor', a person who wherever they travel, chaos is sure to follow. It's known that they travel in 'The Blue Box', and is almost always seen alongside one or more people they call their 'companions'. People claim to have met the doctor, that they saw a man in a long coat appear from a box that wasn't there a second ago. I also like to imagine former companions(especially Jack)giving fake anecdotes about their time with the Doctor, just for fun. The Doctor sees them and sometimes can't even remember if it's true or not. People from America travel over in hopes of spotting this mysterious Doctor. People see a man in a trench coat and either run for their fucking lives because they know shits about to go down, or they try to follow and join in because?? Magic blue box and chaos?? Fun!! Oh hey, you remember that girl Rose who straight up disappeared from the flat below you? You always think you notice a blue box in the corner of your eye as you walked into the building, and there was always a strange whining sound that was too mechanical to be pipes but sounds like nothing you've ever heard before. Yeah, it's because she was taken by the Doctor, chosen to be their companion, destined to leave one day and never be seen again. The missing posters come down but the people never come back. Peoples opinions vary on this shape-changing being - Parents warn their young girls to stay away from the Doctor, lest they get abducted, stolen away in the night. Teenagers try to find them, desperate to get away from their boring lives and overbearing parents and have a little adventure. Grandparents tell the kids personal accounts - the time their sister was saved by the Doctor, the time they thought they saw a blue box on the corner of the street but when they tried to look for it they couldn't see it.

- Everyone is Very Aware of aliens, it's just one of those things that you don't talk about. It's always bothered me how nearly every time a human sees a Dalek in newer episodes they go 'oh wow, what could this be? I have ever seen this before in my life!' as if millions of Daleks didn't get released above London and then sucked back into Canary Wharf where they magically disappeared from? Or like how Daleks are in the streets...very often. Or when that huge stadium of people straight up disappeared during the London Olympics then came back a bit later and it was never explained? Or how they all lived with what they thought where ghosts for an amount of time I don't remember but it was long enough anyway, and then those 'ghosts' became metal men? And the metal men?? Appear a lot?? Like in that one with Missy and they're all on the streets?? You'd think someone would go 'oh hey look is that thing I thought was my dead great aunt carol a few years back, what the fuck?'. At this point, I'm sure every person in the UK should be related to someone who died of alien related causes. And hey, remember the huge spaceship above London that time? And that other time? And the time the spaceship broke Big Ben? Or the time the Christmas star of death zapped a load of people? I think I've made my point - people know about aliens. So I'm gonna say that everyone is fully aware of aliens, they just...don't talk about it. It's a Thing.

- The TARDIS can control who the perception filter works on. This isn't really a big thing, just a little continuity issue I noticed, and maybe there was an explanation but if there is then I missed it. Please correct me if I'm wrong! But if you remember when Ten created the perception filters using the TARDIS keys for him, Jack and Martha - Martha knew of the effects of a perception filter, but she still couldn't help its effects in her. Yet the companions suddenly gain the ability to always see the TARDIS once they join the Doctor. Even though, using the same logic, they should still have their perception shifted despite knowing it is there. The way Martha puts it, she says 'it's like I know you're there, but I don't wanna know' or something similar to that. So conclusion - the TARDIS can decide if it wants people to see her. We know that she/it is sentient and conscious, so I don't see why not!

- So we know that due to the nature of Timelords, they don't really have a concept of gender like we do. Their biological sex is changeable, and because of that they don't have the same social constructs as we do. So, the reason they refer to themselves as male or female to humans is because of our own perceptions of gender, and the TARDIS translates it to be what would seem natural to us. So a male presenting doctor would call himself he, and female presenting would call herself she, because that is how we as humans perceive them. I imagine in Gallifreyan they maybe don't have separate pronouns, only one. I also imagine that 'Timelord' is just a very literal translation of their actual title, just because...well for one it's in English, which makes no sense, and also it's such an obnoxious title ahshsjsj.

- Sometimes the Doctor checks in on Donna to make sure she's okay. They still feel guilty about wiping her memory, even though it saved her life, so maybe they help her out in whatever little ways they can anonymously. Yaz asks Thirteen who the seemingly unimportant woman she's so interested in is, and Thirteen just smiles sadly and says 'An old friend'.

- The timeless child didn't happen. Pretty self explanatory - I just hate it, so I pretend it doesn't exist! Yay!

- Oh also the way I see Thirteen and her companions in my head is so different to how they're actually written because...Chibnall bad. MY Thirteen would never hand someone over the the bloody N*z*s, no matter what they had done, let alone someone they'd known their (very long) life and had loved? MY Thirteen wouldn't brush of Graham's fear about his cancer returning, nor would she support the hugeass Amazon metaphor (also when she blows up that guy, after giving him like a seconds warning?? What?!?). It actually hurts listening to Twelves goodbye speech and then watching Thirteens portrayal. The basis of their character is that they're kind, they do they best they can and they always help those in need. Twelve wouldn't have gone 'Oh no, I don't know what to say, silly old me, I'm so socially awkward bye' if someone he cared about came to him with their fears, because he can be silly and awkward and 'why are you wearing heels, do you need to reach a shelf?', but not when it's something like that. Also why is she so awkward? The Doctor has always been weird, but the difference is that in the past they have always known that they're weird and literally put it in just to embarrass/confuse people. And yeah, sometimes the Doctor genuinely doesn't understand 'human things'. But they do know how to act normal? The Doctor is perfectly capable of appearing human if they really needed to, but they have no problem saying shit to confuse people. But when Thirteen is awkward, she's just...cringeworthy awkward.

Sorry if my wording is bad and some of my memories of episodes are a bit wrong! I didn't check sources or anything I'm really just rambling here. This got way longer than I intended so well done(!!!) if you bothered to read all of it.

(I know my pronouns are all over the place, but when talking about the Doctor I tend to use 'they' when speaking of not any specific Doctor, and then 'she' for Thirteen and 'he' for the others.)

[nomanwalksalone]

PIECES OF SELF

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

On a tip from the Instagram stories of my friend Paul Fournier, I picked up Nishiguchi Essentials 100, a bilingual compendium of the 100 articles of clothing and accessories that totemically compose the intrepid Shuhei Nishiguchi, the photogenic men’s fashion director of Japan’s directional department store, Beams. It is the sort of thing I love, a diverse collection of objects, each with their own particular stories and their own particular uniqueness. It reminded me of my old favorite Einstein’s Watch, which juxtaposed the most interesting items put up for sale in 2009 (from Einstein’s own Swiss watch to a Barbie version of the DC comics superhero Black Canary). It also put me in mind of Taryn Simon’s An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar, out of whose catalog of hymen restoration clinics, corpse farms and Braille editions of Playboy rose a strange, yet familiarly offbeat, Americana.

Nishiguchi-san has been a stalwart of the hashtag-menswear scene for years, a fixture at the Pitti Uomo trade fairs  (which he attends in a professional, rather than parasocial, capacity), and a popular enough phenomenon that menswear blogger Simon Crompton marketed a previous book of his, Nishiguchi’s Closet, which purported to show readers how to use just ten articles of clothing to create a hundred different outfits.

As its title suggests, Nishiguchi Essentials 100 features ten times the pieces of clothing as that earlier book, for a very different philosophy of dress. Why, at least three different raincoats are Essentials. Rather than pretend to any minimal rigor, or to the particular multifarious use of basics, the very number of these Essentials seems to beggar the meaning of the word. At last, a clothing book that does not lie about practicality, but instead exults in an overwhelming plenty of carefully sourced vintage trenchcoats, one-off briefcases specially created for him by a firm that specializes in gun cases, patinated prototype suede blazers, 1950s French army pants and… buffalo skin cowboy boots.

As the above list suggests, Nishiguchi is a polyvalent dresser not captive to any particular menswear style. His choices of Essentials is not just diverse, it is variegated like the motley plumage of an exotic bird. While his choice of vintage Brooks Brothers button-down-collar shirts would delight a Trad, his taste for vintage Ralph Lauren (a certain 1990s trenchcoat, baggy 1990s Polo trousers, and old American-made Polo oxford-cloth shirts) would put them off. The ‘Lo-Heads who might be impressed by those would be nonplussed by Nishiguchi’s 1980s Metallica T-shirts, French berets, or Hermès silver bangle hand-beaten by Touareg tribesmen like a Paul Bowles character. And each Essential has its own story: a tale of how each item had a connection to a person from his life, or how it is special in every detail, in ways the casual reader or consumer could not have imagined.

For every item in Nishiguchi Essentials 100 is special, and not just by its significance to its owner: even the Levi’s 501s Nishiguchi includes are specifically those from the 1950s to the 1990s, when Levi’s ceased making them in the United States. His Aquascutum trenchcoat was not one of its usual English production, but a version made in Canada for the North American market with natural shoulders. His handkerchieves are no ordinary bits of limp chambray, but by the infamous Simonnot-Godard, and came not only from Florence’s hallowed haberdashery Tie Your Tie, but from Tie Your Tie back before it changed ownership and, by implication, became just a bit more… well-known? Accessible? Viable? The implication is that experiences unavailable in the current day made many Essentials more precious, more covetable.

Even in purported catalogs like the other books I list above, a certain ghostly narrative detaches itself from the pretty (or unsettling) pictures and makes its presence felt. Nishiguchi is more explicit, writing even before his table of contents that he has “carefully selected” 100 items from his wardrobe that he cherishes and that are “indispensable” to his style and way of life… indissociable, it seems, from his sense of identity. Each item and its story seem like infinitesimally thin sample slices of self, specimens for us to pore over as if through a scanning microscope, and over a hundred of them to piece together a sense of Nishiguchi-san.

The recent pandemic, NIshiguchi-san writes, triggered a meditation that led to this book, In a way, it has catalyzed a sort of behavior of which Nishiguchi Essentials 100 is only the most brilliant version: the exhibition of self through visual and temporal fillets, consumerist fillets, pieces of self that each have their own narrative in our new world of social encounters, that of the distanced virtual interaction of Instagram and its ilk where so many of us have taken to including bits and pieces of what we wish to exhibit of our stuff… our latest kops, our latest drinks, talismans and fetish objects that have latterly become proxies, in our safety-minded physical stasis, for personality and identity.

How often have I thought, in recent months, of this exercise, this attempt to assert identity to faraway acquaintances (while we go bonkers with strain in our own real abodes), as a bit of body horror straight our of a Cronenberg film, our virtual attempts to maintain some sense of identity as we feel our real lives fall apart, like Brundle-Fly carefully, obscenely, gathering and storing the human pieces of him that fall off… What we store, what we catalog, what we display sometimes no longer aligns with who we actually are, and we have less control over the latter. What a fun exercise it would be, being able to show and write about the hundred or so things that we think compose us, or how we wish to be seen. But the Nishiguchi’s Essentials are actual talismans of his life, lifestyle and daily dress. This display is indeed inherent of him, for he actually is a fashion director for a famously eclectic luxury store, and a fashion icon, unlike most of the rest of us whose Instagram displays, whether self-conscious and ironical or not, are manifestations of aspiration, even if the act of display, the construction of images of our drinks, accessories, kops, and so on, can in effort feel like we are indeed parting with a piece of ourselves. As we are not Nishiguchi-san, let us pause to think about what remains, inside us, as well.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Step 1: Getting To Know Her

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

Step 1: Getting To Know Her

All witches are unique. Before pouring effort into charming a witch, it’s important to get to know her well, Aim to understand why you like her, and stay observant, because there will always be more to learn.

-------------------------------

Ron was lying awake in bed, flipping through the old and tattered book, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he read part one, ‘Getting To Know Her’. Like that’s remotely possible.

He smiled softly at her sleeping form beside him. Her dark and bushy hair splayed wildy across both pillows, and the stress lines that appeared on her face throughout the day seemed to vanish in the night. She looked peaceful and calm, and it was contagious. Funny how the same girl that could rile him up and ignite his passion could also ease his anxiety. Her effect on him was undeniable, even this far along in their relationship.

Ron had a date planned for tomorrow, and he was pretty damn excited about it— so much that he couldn’t sleep, which is why he had picked up the old book again. His anticipation for tomorrow resembled a kid’s on Christmas Eve. He’d taken Hermione on plenty of dates before, but this one was going to be a surprise for her, and it had to go well. Maybe it was time to refresh his memory in the art of charming witches.

He nearly skipped this chapter the first time he read the book. It was in his sixth year, back at Hogwarts, and he scoffed at the book’s assumption that he would be interested in trying to charm a witch he didn’t know. He figured he could skip it because, well, he knew Hermione. They had already been through so much together, and he knew her like the back of his hand, or so he thought. But it turned out that Hermione was a complex witch, and even after years of friendship, she still managed to surprise Ron. Even now— they lived together, spent the majority of their time together, and could finish each other's sentences, but sometimes she still left him scratching his head, working new details into his understanding of her.

He recently learned that the scar on her knee was from a biking accident when she was younger. It needed stitches to heal. Muggle doctors actually sewed her skin back together. He was horrified when she told him— His parents had always been able to cast a cushioning charm around the Burrow’s grounds in case someone fell from their broomstick, and any cuts and scratches could be easily repaired with a dab of dittany— no needles required. Although it was a minor detail of her life, it further differentiated his childhood experience from hers, and unveiled that a lot of his knowledge of her upbringing was based on assumptions, not facts.

She surprised him again the first time he threw her a birthday party at their new flat. They had recently moved in together, and Hermione had insisted on living in Muggle London so her parents could have easier access to their new place. To go with the theme of their home, he decided to throw her an entirely muggle party, complete with muggle decorations and games and a cake baked the hard way— magic-free. He was quite proud of the result, and definitely didn’t expect her panicked reaction when she came home to find their apartment bursting with balloons. Hermione— who fought dark wizards as early as age sixteen, was afraid of balloons simply because they could pop anytime. Mental.

Ron’s perception of Hermione was constantly expanding with more information— Hermione had grown into a new person over the past decade and a half. The witch he met on the Hogwarts Express was completely different from the one sleeping next to him, and he had no idea what to expect in another fifteen years. This thought used to terrify him. He remembered discussing this with his brother Bill the summer before his wedding, after learning he was going to marry Fleur.

“What if you fall in love with someone, and then they change?”

Bill’s answer left Ron quite confused at first. “That’s the most exciting part,” he had said.

Of course, now Ron understood exactly what Bill had meant and agreed whole-heartedly. There was something exciting yet reassuring about how truly unknowable people were. Hermione was like an ocean— well studied and explored, yet ever-changing and mysterious.

At this point he had known her for fifteen years, and the words “Get To Know Her” made him laugh for completely different reasons that they did at age seventeen. This time, he laughed because he knew he never would.

******

There were many moments that stood out as turning points for Ron— moments when his knowledge of Hermione expanded, and his feelings for her strengthened.

There was a clear shift when he discovered her crying in the bathroom on that first Halloween, Hermione was no longer a “nightmare”, but a vulnerable, insecure kid who simply wanted to fit in— just like him. He saw her in a new light, and realized her commitment to studying so much, and showing off her knowledge wasn’t intended to be condescending, it was her attempt to make sense of a world of which she knew nothing. Knowing nothing meant knowing no one and the hurtfulness of his words took on an entirely new dimension. He had teased her for having no friends, but he also had the power to change that. On October 30th, she had been an annoying know-it-all, and by November 1st, she was his best friend, and he thanked Merlin every day that his eleven year old self had changed his opinion.

Things changed again in his fourth year. By the Yule Ball, Hermione had outgrown the young, precocious, socially awkward first year that pointed out dirt on his nose, and corrected his pronunciation of wingardium leviosa. She was a brilliant, confident, and strikingly pretty young woman, but his 14 year-old self was stuck to his original perception. He was forced to reassess when he saw her dancing with Victor Krum at the ball, looking magnificent in her periwinkle dress. He watched her laughing, dancing, and carrying herself with poise and confidence, while other girls lurked nearby, their faces contorted with envy. Victor Krum effortlessly ignored them because he was so drawn to Hermione, and he wasn’t the only one— Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her either. Her words swam back his mind, suddenly changing everything.

“Just because it’s taken you three years to notice, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl.”

Why hadn’t he noticed before? And now that he had, what the bloody hell was he supposed to do about it? Hermione had evolved from a friend to a girl to a girl he fancied and Ron was left with the daunting task of moving forward with that revelation, somehow.

Although unsure how to proceed, he grew accustomed to his new feelings about Hermione. He edited her character profile in his mind to reflect this new person, someone who was infuriatingly clever, beautiful, and confident. This was Hermione, not that.

He kept learning, and her definitions expanded over time. He added both fearless and terrifying in their fifth year, when she risked her prefect badge to help form Dumbledore’s Army, jinxed Marrietta Edgecombe, and fought valiantly at the Ministry of Magic. He added flirtatious during their sixth year, when he could have sworn he saw her eyes that lingering on his taller, scruffier, more athletic-looking body, thanks to a combination of puberty and Quidditch. That same year, he briefly added not interested when her signals became too vague for him to trust, and completely fucking mental when she set a flock of canaries on him. Those descriptions changed again when they reconciled, and he fell right back into his old pattern of wanting her, this time slightly more confident that she felt the same way.

At that point he was convinced that knew her. He had adjusted his definitions so many times and finally felt that he had landed on something all-encompassing. But of course, he was wrong.

It was at the Burrow before Bill and Fleur’s wedding when she alerted him to another unexplored cavern of her personality. It had been a few months since the Lavender incident and they’d been dancing around their feelings for one another since then. Ron wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make the first move, or if it had been an appropriate amount of time to date someone new after breaking up with Lavender, so he just continued to hang around her, lamely hoping something would just happen between them.

His mother made an effort to keep them apart that summer, as she was— rightfully— scared they were planning something dangerous, so in order to spend any time together, they had to be sneaky about it. One day, his mother sent Hermione and Ginny to change all the sheets without realizing she had already asked them to, and instead of asking for a new chore, Hermione wandered up to Ron’s attic bedroom where he was busy tidying up.

“Hi,” she said before jumping and landing prone on his bed. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up my room,” he replied. “Not sure why I have to do it, it’s not like any of the guests will come in here.”

“You know why,” said Hermione. “To keep us busy.”

“Oh I know,” replied Ron, laughing at his mother’s antics. “Care to help me?”

“No, I think I’ll just sit here and watch,” she said with a coy smile.

Ron looked over and grinned at her. She was so cute lying on his bed like that. He couldn’t help but think she looked quite sexy too, with her skirt riding up, revealing more parts of her leg that kept him up at night. Sexy was another word Ron had added to her profile, one he found himself noticing much more frequently as of late.

He shook his head as if to jumble the randy expression that had undoubtedly formed his face, giving away thoughts that were best kept to himself— at least for now. At this point, they had not discussed where they stood relationship-wise, and gawking at her exposed thigh could easily ruin anything that remained unsaid.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. He winced as he said it, hearing the unintended flirtatiousness of the words only after they left his mouth.

Fortunately his comment was well received. “Well, maybe take me to dinner first..,” she said playfully before shifting toward the edge of his bed, making room for him to sit down.

He felt his face warming as he lowered himself to the bed beside her and realized he had nothing to say. Dreading an awkward silence, he spluttered the first question that came to mind. “So uh, have you ever been to a wedding before?”

She turned onto her side to face him before nodding. “A few, but only muggle weddings. I was actually a bridesmaid in my cousin’s wedding last summer.”

Ron had expected that she’d attended a wedding before, as most people had. He was surprised by the other part of her answer. “You… have a cousin?”

“Yeah,” said Hermione. “This was Ellie’s wedding. She’s about five years older than me. Have I not told you about her?”

“No, I thought it was just you.”

“Hmm,” she said contemplatively. “I don’t have any siblings, but I have a lot of cousins. My extended family’s actually quite big.”

It wasn’t a personality-altering detail, but it revealed a sudden gap in his data. Ron wracked his mind for any missed conversations where he could have learned more about her family. “I never knew that. Are you close to your cousins?”

She shrugged. “Well I guess I just don’t talk about them that much. But growing up they felt like my siblings.”

“Do you visit them a lot?”

She hesitated before answering. “I used to,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Ron suddenly regretted asking about her family, remembering what she had just done to keep them safe. “I probably won’t see them much anymore. At least not for a while.”

In a moment of courage, he reached for her hand, which was lying on his bed between them. He squeezed it gently and smiled. She returned the gesture, caressing the back of his hand in a way that sent shivers down his spine, but Ron was distracted by the glisten in her eyes as she reflected back on her family.

Also, his head was spinning. Hermione knew his family so well after their years of friendship, it almost felt like she was part of it. How had she never mentioned this detail about hers? Had he never even asked?

He had only met her parents once or twice, and he didn’t really converse with them when he did. Hermione had spent holidays with his family. His mum would send birthday and Christmas presents. Fred and George would take the mickey out of her like she was their own sister. She felt comfortable waltzing into his bedroom and sitting on his bed, and he had never even been to her house. He didn’t even know what it looked like.

“Can I meet them someday?” he asked boldly. “Your cousins, I mean.”

She paused in thought before answering cautiously. “Well, they don’t know I’m a witch. They think I attend a muggle boarding school. Whenever I visit them, I have to lie about everything. It’s a lot of work. A lot of stress.”

Ron hadn’t thought of that— she lived in a world that her family knew nothing about. Even if they got through this war, and she reunited with them, he would have to learn a whole lot more about muggles in order to keep up the lies she must have developed over the years. “I’m a good liar,” he said. “And a quick learner.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” she laughed.

Ron chuckled too, glad he could cheer her up, even if temporarily. But he was overwhelmed by this new information. There was a lot he didn’t know. He wondered what she told her cousins she studied at school, and what they thought she was planning to do after graduating. He didn’t even know how many cousins she had, how old they all were, or their names.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't even know her parents’ names.

“What are your parents’ names?” he asked.

“Jean and Hugo,” she answered. “Why?”

“I’m just curious.” He looked down at her hand, which he was still casually holding. He gave it another squeeze and saw her smile brightly at him when he did it, and he grinned softly back at her. It was the same Hermione, yet there was still even more about her to discover— things about her that he had never even thought about.

He felt a bit guilty learning exactly how many questions he’d never bothered to ask. But his guilt was overshadowed by his excitement to learn more. He really was a quick learner when the topic held his interest, and nothing held his interest quite like Hermione Granger.

[batterycityghoul]

Hello there! I don't know if you are accepting requests, so I'm just shooting my shot. I was thinking about a short one shot with Diego based on the song Wait a minute by Willow Smith. Actually the part where she says "You left your diary at my house And I read those pages, you really love me". I know you're busy with These Hands Stained Red, so it's okay if you can't write it. Have a nice day! 🤗💖

Title: You Were Bound to See

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves/Reader

Word Count:  2.9k (whoops?)

Author’s Note: I was already in a Birds of Prey mood, and your additional requests for 'number 8/singer in a bar/power has to do with her voice' gave me maaajor Black Canary/Dinah Lance feels. So, I used some of that character's story for inspiration. I hope that's okay! (I also had never heard the song before, so I hope I did alright with your song prompt! Thank you so much for sending this in! 💖) 

You sat on your bed, waiting for him to show up. On nights like these, it wasn't uncommon for him to sneak into your apartment, seeking a night together.  

When you heard the window beside your bed slide up, you felt a smirk tug at your lips. You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of him standing there in his domino mask and usual vigilante gear.  

"What was it this time?"  

"A robbery," he answered. "What? You couldn't see that with your little musical gift?"

You quirked an eyebrow at him, not amused by his snark. "It doesn't work like that and you know it," you snapped, shooting him a glare. "And why don't you take that stupid thing off your face? You look like an idiot."

Diego rolled his eyes, reaching up to pull his mask off. "You used to wear one too. Or did you forget we used to be on the same team?"

How could you ever forget? Your mother had only been a lonely, scared teenager when she suddenly became pregnant and gave birth to you all in one day. You didn't remember much about her, but you did remember that she used to call you her little miracle. She didn't have much money or anyone to rely on, but she loved you. And you? You loved her.  

You were just a kid when she got sick and passed, there and gone in what felt like a blink of an eye. In the weeks before she left you, you spent many nights at her bedside, singing her song after song, your head filled with visions that never yielded what you hoped to find.  

After she passed, you ended up bounced around the system for a few years until you ran away. You learned at a young age that you truly couldn't rely on anyone but yourself, so you resigned yourself to being alone.  

You had to become resourceful to survive on the streets. It wasn't the most glamorous lifestyle, but you figured it was better than trusting someone who would only ultimately let you down.  

Your life took a sudden turn when you were only thirteen. You had gone a few days without food, so you had to resort to looking through a dumpster in search of a meal. You thought you had found the jackpot outside of a mansion, since you knew rich people were always throwing away perfectly good food.  

You had just jumped inside when you startled at the sound of someone banging a fist on the side of it.  

"Hey! You find anything good in there?"

You peeked over the side of the dumpster to see a boy about your age leaning against the side of it. He glanced up at you, throwing you a wink, before he brought a cigarette to his lips and took a drag.  

"Smoking kills, you know?"  

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Death doesn't concern me that much," he offered with a grin, lightly laughing at the words as if it was a joke only he would understand. "What are you doing in there?"

"Looking for food," you answered, figuring there was no harm in being honest.  

The boy squinted up at you before he nodded his head. "Alright," he said. "Come with me."

You shook your head. "I don't even know you."

"Oh! Right," he said, hastily dropping his cigarette to the ground before stepping on it. "I'm Klaus. And you are?"

You considered the boy for a few moments before you sighed. "I'm Y/N," you finally offered.  

You were surprised when Klaus took you inside the mansion. He was quick to introduce you to a woman named Grace who immediately started to fuss over you. She made you food which you promptly ate while listening to Klaus ramble away about his life and family.  

"Well, this was great," you started once you finished the pancakes and eggs Grace had made for you. "But I should really be going."

"I believe we would both agree on that," you heard a man say from the doorway of the kitchen. "What were you thinking, Number Four? Inviting this strange child into our home?"

Klaus snorted before he shot you a commiserating look, as if you could possibly understand what was really going on. "I was thinking, Reggie, that she was hungry and needed something to eat."

"This is not your house, Number Four. You did not have my permission to invite a stranger inside."

It was then that you noticed the other kids crowding around the older man. It took you a few moments, but you realized that you recognized some of them. You frowned at the one wearing a domino mask, a scowl on his face as he watched you.  

"We don't have time for this," the older man snapped. "It is time to debut the team. There is a robbery in progress and you and the other children are going to stop it."

"At a bank?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you watched the older man. "There's going to be men hiding in the bank vault. Make sure you get them too."

The man turned to give you his full focus, staring you down for long enough that you started to feel truly uncomfortable. "Tell me," he started. "When were you born?"

"What? What the hell does that matter?"

"Your date of birth," the man demanded. "Now."

"October first," you answered.

"Year?"

You shot a quick glance at Klaus, seeing that his eyes were wide with wonder as he waited for your answer.

"1989?" You hesitantly offered, not sure why it came out as a question.  

"Where did you find her, Number Four?"

"Uh," Klaus started, staring at you uncertainly.

"I was outside in the dumpster looking for food," you answered for him.  

"I see," the man mused. "It seems I may have some use for you after all. Stay here," he commanded. "I want to speak with you when we get back."

You watched as the man herded all of the kids out of the kitchen, leaving Grace with instructions to make sure you stayed put.  

Of course, you had no intention of staying. You didn't trust the man or the way he seemed to think you were suddenly valuable to him. You didn't want to see what he had in store for you.  

So, the moment Grace turned her back, you made a run for it.  

It didn't take you long to learn that Reginald Hargreeves really did have no intention of letting you go. He managed to track you down within a day and offered you another meal if you only listened to what he had to say.  

You agreed, even if you were hesitant to believe that he was offering you salvation.  

He spun you a crazy tale of superhero kids and a bid to save the world. It took some coaxing, but you finally admitted that you caught glimpses of the future. All you had to do was sing a song and visions played in your head of what was to come. You couldn't control it and it only seemed to stretch as far as a few days ahead, but you always tried your best to understand them when they came.  

"Precognitive music," Reginald confirmed with a nod of his head. "Well, I'm not sure how useful you can be to the team, but I'm sure we can find a place for you. Welcome to the team, Number Eight."

Despite having an official welcome to the team and family, you still tried to run away. A lot. But Reginald always brought you back.  

You didn't really mesh well with the team. You didn't bother to get to know Luther or Allison. The one they called Number Five disappeared not long after you joined the team and Ben was so quiet and reserved that he usually kept to himself. The only ones you really forged any kind of connection with were Diego, Klaus, and Vanya.  

Klaus didn't really give you a choice about whether you wanted to be friends or not. He seemed to just barge right into your life and stay there, pulling you into his antics from time to time.  

You bonded with Vanya over music. Once you heard her play her violin, you instantly fell for her talent. You spent hours listening to her play, eventually having the confidence to sing to her and sharing your visions with her.  

And Diego? Diego only seemed to show an interest in you because he didn't trust you. You were pretty sure he thought you were going to somehow kill everyone in their sleep one night. Which, to you, didn't make sense, because he was the one with the lethal power.  

Diego's constant watch over you meant that you ended up spending a lot of time together, whether you truly wanted to or not. You discovered an anger in Diego that you connected with. He was angry with his upbringing and constant dismissal from his father that left him feeling like he wasn't good enough and you were angry at the shitty hand life had dealt you and the constant voice in your head telling you that you didn't belong. Over time, you learned how to talk each other down when you truly felt like you were going to lose it. Sometimes when you tried to run away, Diego would be the first to talk you out of it.  

As you grew older, you started to rely on each other. You were the first one to have his back on a mission and he made sure you knew how to spar just as well as him so you could better defend yourself. You started spending most of your time together, forging a connection you never would have seen coming, despite your precognitive ability.  

When you turned seventeen, you and Diego left the Academy together. You both took up odd jobs, sharing a shitty apartment just so you wouldn't have to spend one more moment under the roof of Reginald Hargreeves.  

That first year you spent together, just the two of you, was one of the best years of your life. Diego took up playing guitar and you would sit on the bed you shared, singing to him. He was always so interested in your visions, but that wasn't why you chose to share your talent with Diego. Singing had always been something you loved, and in a way, it was something you did for the people you loved. Your mom. Vanya. And then Diego.  

Of course, you knew you were too young for those kinds of feelings and young love rarely lasted.  

Your problems started when Diego wanted to start up a vigilante lifestyle. He ended up washing out of the police academy, stating that it wasn't for him. Instead, he took to wanting to patrol the streets at night, listening to a stolen police scanner, and throwing himself into danger. You tagged along at first, but you quickly realized that you didn't want to be a superhero. It became a point of contention between the two of you.

"Diego, we can't keep doing this," you insisted one night. You were bleeding from a cut to your forehead you had gotten after a close call with a group of men who were intent on robbing a convenience store.  

"Doing what?" He asked, carefully dabbing at the cut with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol.  

"This," you insisted. "Saving people. Being good little superheroes. I thought that's why we left the Academy."

"That's why you left the Academy," he pointed out.  

"I'm not cut out for the superhero life," you said, trying to make him see that you were suffering for it.  

"You were born for the superhero life," he countered. "Otherwise, what's the use of having a power if you don't use it to save people?"

You shook your head, glancing away from him. "I didn't ask for this," you whispered. "Aren't we meant for something more?" You couldn't help but wonder, feeling like your heart was tearing in two at the silence that followed.  

You left not long after that. You ended up singing in a dive bar for a boss with shady connections and as far as you knew, Diego took up a job at a boxing ring during the day while he moonlighted as a vigilante at night.  

Even though you both didn't seem to agree with the other, you couldn't stay away. The rest of the team had been irreparably broken for a long time, but you couldn't seem to quit Diego. He didn't like that you were seemingly wasting your nights singing in a bar, keeping your visions to yourself, and refusing to use them for the greater good. You didn't like that he was risking his life for people who didn't give a fuck about him and wouldn't care if he died in the process of saving them.  

You spent years going back and forth. Some nights, after you were done at the bar, you would make your way to The Fighting Lion, waiting on Diego's bed until he bothered to show up. Other nights, he would come see you after saving some hapless victim, crawling through your window like you were teenagers in some kind of sweet rom-com.  

It didn't matter how much it hurt that you would never truly agree, because you knew that you loved him. You loved him so much some days you could hardly think past the need to have him right there at your side.  

Now, you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes before you turned your back on him.  

"I can guess why you're here," you started, shooting him another quick glance over your shoulder. "Catch the bad guys?"

"And saved some lives, baby," he told you with a smirk.

"Don't call me that," you said.  

"What should I call you then?" The smirk never left his face as he started pulling off his holsters, dropping his knives on their unofficial designated place on your dresser. "Remember what I used to call you when we were younger?"

"Don't," you warned, knowing what he was about to say.

"My little songbird," he crooned with an almost mocking note to his voice. "You used to sing just for me," he reminded you.  

You watched him continue to strip until his shirt was off and his pants were unzipped.  

"You're awfully confident about where this is heading," you pointed out to him. "What if I said I just wasn’t feeling it tonight? What if I showed you the door?"

"You know, I caught your show tonight," he informed you, seemingly completely ignoring your previous words.  

That was news to you. As far as you were aware, Diego had never bothered to actually come to the bar and see you sing. He thought you could do better and you didn’t quite disagree with him.

"I listened to you and watched you," he said, slowly approaching you until he was standing just beside your bed. "And I realized something."

"Oh, yeah?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he put a hand to your shoulder, coaxing you to lie down. "What was that?"

He moved to hover over you on the bed, propped up on his arms on either side of your head with his eyes trained on yours. "You don't really love it," he finally responded. "You just go and sing because you enjoy it, but it's nothing like those private shows you used to put on for me. I never realized before how close we were then. How intimate," he said as he leaned down, placing a kiss to your jaw. "I remember the look on your face every time you sang just for me." Another kiss was placed in the hollow of your throat. "You used to look at me like I was everything to you. You gave yourself away."

You felt your breath hitch as he placed a biting kiss just under your jaw, his teeth lightly scraping over your skin.  

"I did?" Your voice was breathless as you attempted to glance down at him.  

"You did," he confirmed with another smirk, finally rising up so you could see him.  

"And what did I give away?" You couldn't help but ask, torn between knowing and pulling him down into a kiss.

"You love me," he said. "I didn't notice at first, but tonight made me see it. It made me see you. You love me, Y/N. You really love me."

It was hopeless to deny it. You had known since you were only seventeen. You had resigned yourself to loving Diego for the rest of your life, because you simply couldn't help it. It didn't matter if you would always clash and were wrong for each other in so many ways. Your heart never seemed to listen to what your brain had to say. You loved Diego.  

"And what if I do? Does that change anything?" Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your instincts warring between pulling him closer or pushing him away in the event he just ended up hurting you again.  

"Of course it doesn't," he answered with a shake of his head. He offered you a soft, sincere smile before he leaned down again, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke his next words. "Because I love you too."

[aion-rsa]

The Suicide Squad: What’s Next for Harley Quinn in the DCEU?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains major spoilers for The Suicide Squad. We have a spoiler free review here.

The Suicide Squad might just be the best DCEU movie yet. Not only is it a sterling ensemble piece about the horrors of American imperialism but it’s also the world’s weirdest buddy comedy. And in a film full of stunning performances–Idris Elba, David Dastmalchian, and Daniela Melchior please stand up–we got another killer turn from Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn. 

After kicking all kinds of ass in Birds of Prey, the Mistress of Mischief is back and better than ever. This is a truly emancipated Harley, one who hates the Joker, will kill an abusive man in a second, and who plays a huge part in saving the day after choking out a man with her thighs, of course. 

While Robbie has said she has “no current plans to reprise the role” after The Suicide Squad, we couldn’t help but think of where the DCEU’s most badass and brutal on-screen anti-hero has been and where she could go next. Thanks to the comics, cartoons, and imagination of those at DC Comics, we’ve got plenty to draw on. 

Let’s start with where Harley has been to see how it impacts her potential future…

Before the DCEU

Harley began her career in the beloved Batman: The Animated Series cartoon as a one-time henchwoman for the Joker. But that quickly changed and she soon became a core part of the show, and not long after became a fan fave character in the comic book universe. 

This iteration of Quinn was a huge influence on James Gunn in bringing her to The Suicide Squad and might explain that unforgettable animated sequence as she escapes from the palatial prison of Corto Maltese. 

It’s also important to note as until The Suicide Squad her most popular contemporary iteration was once again in a cartoon, but this time it was the DC Universe turned HBO Max smash hit adult animation series that bears her name. 

Harley Quinn in 2016’s Suicide Squad

While David Ayer’s Suicide Squad might not have been for everyone–apparently including Ayer himself–one thing stood out: Robbie as Harley Quinn. While she was mostly sexualized and used as eye candy, Robbie gave Harley depth, humor, and heart. It was the standout performance and is a huge part of why the DCEU version is so popular today. While it’s great to see Harley’s growth, we have to mention the movie where Robbie made her debut. 

Birds of Prey

Cathy Yan’s brilliant Birds of Prey let Robbie go wild with her take on Harley. This was the action heavy R-rated take that fans wanted to see. With a predominantly female creative team behind it, the film eschewed the male gaze and misogyny that Harley has sometimes had to fight through. 

Here we saw a Harley who was freed from the Joker, had her own crew, her own incredible fashion sense, and even her own burgeoning moral code. Not only was this a badass outing for Harley but it feels tonally and aesthetically in tune with the route that James Gunn went in The Suicide Squad. The emancipation of Harley Quinn began here, long may it reign! 

The Suicide Squad Sets Up What’s Next for Harley Quinn

While it’s unclear where Robbie sees the character going next, we get a good feel for Harley and her new found freedom here. The world is her oyster. She has new allies–maybe even… friends?–and a magical javelin. Basically, anything can happen as she heads into the future. 

Poison Ivy

This seems like the clearest and most popular option for more Harley Quinn. 

While it looked like it might happen in the form of the now not happening Gotham City Sirens movie (which Suicide Squad director Ayer was once attached to), there’s still legs in this partnership which has been delighting fans for decades. In both the comics and cartoons her relationship with Poison Ivy has been a key part of Harley’s lore. While they began as friends, the canon has shifted to being on-again off-again romantic partners in all mediums. So we need to see that on screen in live action… SOON! 

It would be really easy to take the comedic action stylings of the HBO Max Harley Quinn series which saw the pair traverse the hard realities of love in Gotham and bring that to either a longer format series–which we’d love–or a movie. Just putting these two A-listers together would be a huge selling point and if they played into the queer romance it would make huge waves. 

“Trust me, I chew their ear off about it all the time,” Robbie recently told us when we asked about the possibility of adding a live action Poison Ivy to the DCEU. “They must be sick of hearing it, but I’m like, ‘Poison Ivy, Poison Ivy. Come on, let’s do it.’ I’m very keen to see a Harley-Poison Ivy relationship on screen. It’d be so fun. So I’ll keep pestering them. Don’t worry.”

If DC decided to go a little more dramatic they could take from the pair’s comic book canon. It would make a lot of sense to explore Harley’s love life post the Joker as both of her most recent DCEU appearances have made note to mention his negative impact on her life. 

During the 2013 Harley Quinn comic series fans got to see the pair finally become official as Harley came to terms with her abusive relationship with the Joker. An easy route for the DCEU to take–either seriously or more comedically–would be to make Harley and Ivy a sort of Thelma and Louise of the DCEU, a couple of cool gals against the world… and if they have their “daughter” Cass Cain with them too we’d be very happy. 

While they broke up in the official DC Comics continuity, they are currently getting back together in Harley Quinn: The Animated Series – The Eat, Bang, Kill Tour. The hilarious sequel to the cartoon expands on their romance and plays into that more humorous angle. But simply the fact that the pair are together again in the comics means that there’s even more canon to take from here. 

Female Furies 

In spite of the sad news that Ava DuVernay’s New Gods movie is no longer in production, we might have found a silver lining. In recent years Harley has faced down against Granny Goodness and even joined her Female Furies. This has happened in both the ongoing Harley Quinn comics series and the DC Universe cartoon. It’s a really cool and out there idea for the character in the DCEU, and could be a cool way to introduce the more cosmic aspects of the universe through the lens of one of the world’s most popular comics characters. 

It would be pretty easy to do a Female Furies movie or TV show where Harley is enlisted into Apokolips’ hardcore squad of warriors. There’d be an exceedingly fun fish out of water element as well as the potential to do something totally different than we’ve seen before. 

There’s also the option to emulate the Harley Quinn TV series and follow Harley as she seeks out Granny Goodness in order to gain the nefarious power of the Motherbox, which would obviously go wrong pretty quickly. While we’ve seen elements touched on in Zack Snyder’s Justice League, DC isn’t afraid of reimagining things regularly and we’d love to see Harley on an epic cosmic adventure with Darkseid on her heels! 

Another HBO Max Spinoff? 

If the villainous Peacemaker is getting his own HBO Max show, why shouldn’t Harley? And there are a ton of incredible routes the series could go. The most obvious right now would be continuing the Harley we see in The Suicide Squad. 

Seeing as Rick Flag and Harley were clearly close, it would be very easy to intertwine the Harley show and the Peacemaker series. What if while Peacemaker was trying to “save the world,” Harley and potentially Bloodsport–he served with Rick and clearly cared about him–were hunting him down in their own series? That would be a pretty smart way to expand the radical world of The Suicide Squad while giving Robbie far more space to play with the character she’s long defined. 

Ever since Birds of Prey, fans have been wishing for a Black Canary or Harley-focused spinoff. With Peacemaker setting the precedent for solo DCEU shows, this could be another great route. We’d love to see the return of Ella Jay Basco as Cass Cain or even the return of Rosie Perez as Renee Montoya. This is a little more of an outlier but the gritty crime movie tone of Birds of Prey really fits into the current DCEU and HBO Max vibe. And in our real dreams, Cathy Yan would get the Gunn treatment and direct. 

Batgirl

We’re finishing off with what is currently the most likely of our options. The upcoming HBO Max Batgirl movie is penned by Christina Hodson. Hodson and Robbie have a close working relationship as the Bumblebee screenwriter also wrote Birds of Prey. There’s also the fact that Robbie is a huge supporter of female-led storytelling so bringing her clout and fan favorite character to Batgirl would do just that. It would be really cool to see Harley pop up here as either an antagonist or ally to Barbara Gordon. 

As this is going straight to HBO Max, there’s likely more freedom to play with canon and format. But with Robbie unsure of Harley’s future it could be more realistic to expect a brief cameo rather than a full on-screen Harley storyline when the movie hits the streamer down the line. 

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The Suicide Squad is on HBO Max and in theaters now! 

The post The Suicide Squad: What’s Next for Harley Quinn in the DCEU? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3AhUjCZ

[bigfan-fanfic]

Posterior Displays of Affection (Male!Reader x Dick Grayson)

.Requested by Anonymous for “headcanon for Dick and his bf (who works at wayne enterprise and is a hero too) and how they keep touching each other's butt in weird but very public situations (Boardmeetings/JL meetings, at gala's, out superheroing) and how people react to the extreme PDA?! *-*” 

Warning: Lots of booty touching ahead. I guess it’s mildly NSFW? But, just for inappropriateness...

Although it isn’t quite PG, no one can really blame you.

I mean, it’s no secret that the man’s posterior is every bit as attractive as his anterior end.

You worked at W.E. as Bruce’s assistant. He mostly dropped the ditzy playboy facade around you, although you never suspected he was Batman until you were vigilante-ing around Gotham one night and Batman brought you back to the Cave and you two unmasked.

He’s actually pretty impressed, because you kept up with your work at W.E. while doing this.

That was how Dick met you, and the next time he visited work with Bruce, he asked you on a date.

At first it had seemed like a perfectly sweet relationship. A pure, almost chaste bringing-flowers-to-each-other, kisses-on-the-cheek, midnight-pizza-dates kind of couple.

No one’s quite sure when the groping began.

But one night, on patrol, after putting another criminal behind bars, Dick gives your butt a good squeeze, making you yelp a little.

And the next, before swinging off to whatever crime needed stopping, you smacked his butt.

And from then on it became like a compulsion.

There was a tabloid photo of the two of you at a fundraiser gala, where Dick’s hand is clearly just resting on your rear end, and one particularly front-cover worthy one of him squeezing.

Once, in front of the League, you pinched his butt during a meeting, and EVERYBODY noticed.

Unfortunately for Bruce, this only started a contest among the couples in the League to determine who could be the most touchy-feely in front of the others.

Ollie and Dinah take the cake, when they come in with their hands practically glued to the others’ butt. 

Thankfully, Bruce puts a stop to it after Ollie takes Dinah by surprise and she Canary Cries a hole in the Watchtower.

Due to Wayne Enterprises’ policy on workplace behavioral standards, work is pretty much the one place you two aren’t PDA-ing at. Sometimes Bruce even prefers to meet you two there so he doesn’t have to deal.

It’s basically your way of kissing and showing everyone you’re a couple. As a vigilante duo in one life and an executive dating his boss’ son in the other, it also subliminally tricks people into thinking it’s just physical, so that no one will try to use one against the other.

Plus it’s fun.

Bruce thinks it’s entirely unnecessary and wishes you two would tone it down before you give Ollie and Dinah any more ideas.

Jason thinks it’s hilarious and always makes some sort of comment about how you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves.

Tim is constantly shocked when it happens, and usually spits out his drink like “whoa! That’s not family-friendly”

Damian rolls his eyes each time - or at least he did until he started getting headaches from it.

Alfred chuckles when hearing about it because the two of you know better than to do it in front of him.

The League’s reactions vary from disapproval to thumbs-up enthusiasm.

More than once, Clark has asked you politely to keep those particular displays to private situations - especially since Billy is often present and keeps getting distracted when he notices it

Bruce almost wants to get you to keep doing it just to annoy Clark.

[shesquiinnsane-a2]

As a mysterious techno-virus spreads across Earth many of the heroes and villains have become infected in the pandemic to a point where elimination is necessary for survival. The majority of threads in this verse, Gotham’s Jungle will be the main location. A Sanctuary for survivors pre and post the take off of the Ark.

In Gotham City, Harley Quinn was in an alleyway with Poison Ivy. With her baseball bat draped over her shoulder, Harley let Ivy know that the plan they had was a terrible idea for the record. Ivy noted that now there was no record, so Harley claimed she could probably create a record for now using a scrapbook or something. It would take a few days, with all the glitter and taxidermy required to make the book look its part. Harley set to walk away, but Ivy stopped her, wrapping a few vines around Harley’s ankles and lower leg. As the vines climbed higher, Harley lifted her arms out of the way before questioning Ivy’s actions. Harley doubted the Green was to be used as a weapon all the time. That’s when Ivy let Harley into a little secret; vines enjoyed crushing people. That wasn’t exactly comforting, as now Harley knew she’d never sleep in the same room as any houseplant again. Harley pointed out the unfairness of the task, as Ivy could join her on her little quest. But Ivy had to do this to Harley as Ivy claimed the blonde had to do it alone. Because Harley had to learn that she was strong enough to do so, something Ivy already knew. She told Harley she’d be waiting in the botanical gardens for her, so now Harley had to face her monster.

Heading inside, Harley called out to Mistah J, found hunched over a set of computer screens. He hadn’t answered, so Harley kept talking as she started walking towards him. She had spent a lot of time thinking and although she knew that he didn’t like it when she had been thinking. That was part of the problem. She admitted she had been talking to Ivy, but this wasn’t about the flower goddess, as Harley labeled her. What she wanted to talk about was her own decision. Trying to soften the blow, Harley called him puddin’, but this was a conversation to tell him their life together was over. What she couldn’t see was that the virus had infected Joker, and he was, for lack of a better description, in a zombie-like state.

The infected Joker went on the hunt as Harley Quinn ran for her life. A group caught her eye as she passed a male swamped by infected humans. He was unable to fight back, as his gun had dropped to the floor. Harley spotted the dropped rifle and raced over to pick it up while the infected were distracted by the male. She still had her problem on her tail, the Joker groaning after her. Gripping the rifle, Harley stopped and looked down. She shouted, warning him to back off. But he came closer, and now Harley was done with running away from him. Talking to herself, she aimed the barrel at Joker, letting herself know she had to face her monster. As she exhaled, Harley breathed ❛ Mistah J ❜ for the final time before shooting him. He had never been good for her anyway.

As his body hit the floor, Harley’s hand covered her mouth, the adrenaline wearing off. She contemplated what had happened as she stared at Joker’s corpse. After a moment, Harley held the gun in the air and celebrated as she exclaimed that shooting Joker was the most cathartic thing ever. After years of abuse, with a smile, he was now just a psychotherapeutic lump in front of her. Ivy had always been right about him, and Harley decided to find her to tell her of the news. There was one stumbling block in her way, in the form of the Birds of Prey, who set out to attack her. The blonde composed herself and took a step back. It was time to go undead bird hunting. Catwoman, Batwoman, Batgirl, and Huntress headed her way as Harley fired as many shots as she could. They kept on coming, however, and she quickly ran out of bullets. Luckily Ivy came to her rescue. The Birds were all wrapped up by Ivy’s vines. Harley admired the woman’s handiwork claiming it was pretty romantic. The redhead questioned how crushing the undead was romantic. So, Harley clarified. Saving her was a romantic gesture. The crushing of the undead was just a bonus. Taking Harley’s hand, Ivy beckoned the blonde to follow her to the Green as that could protect them.

Within the week, the Green grew and had taken over the city. Batman knew who to blame for the feat and hoped Ivy would agree to help. Amidst a fight with Croc, Batman and Green Arrow became entangled in Ivy’s vines. Black Canary, now a Green Lantern due to Hal’s passing, managed to avoid the attack. Green Arrow shouted for Ivy to cut them free, but she came out from the shadows as Batman made the call not to harm the plants. Harley appeared behind the redhead, commenting that Batboy had made the right call. Walking up to the wall of plants, Harley noted that between them all, they had managed to kill Killer Croc. It seemed to her now their death wall was complete, which was awesome. Green Arrow told her awesome wasn’t the word he would have used. Ivy, however, seemed distracted by another matter.

Glancing over at their guests, Ivy asked the male in the Batsuit why they were there. She also questioned why he was pretending to be Batman as she knew he was simply a Robin trying to impress. The male in the Batsuit stated that Batman was gone. The statement shocked Harley, but Ivy genuinely apologized. The Bat continued to talk, claiming that he was looking for her sanctuary for survivors. Ivy tried to drop the conversation, but Harley chimed in. She claimed that she and Ivy had already started that conversation. According to the redhead, it hadn’t been a conversation, but that Harley had been nagging her. It turned out Harley would only stop nagging when Ivy became the benevolent Jungle Queen Harley knew she could be. After all, she knew Ivy had some empathy blooming her in her heart. With those words, the botanical beauty seemed to cave in on one condition. There would be rules. Harley wasn’t listening as she celebrated her victory, so Ivy explained the rules to their guests instead. The fruits of the Green were there for consumption as the Green willed it, but any ill act inflicted on the Green would be treated with expulsion, and subsequently becoming human monster food. Green Arrow thought the terms were harsh, but the Bat claimed he would agree to anything.

Over the next few weeks, survivors were located and brought to many locations, including Gotham’s Jungle. The survivors were welcomed by Harley, who warned them not to step on the grass. But soon, Earth was doomed to become uninhabitable with two arks built to hold seven million people. Everyone on board equated to just less than now was time for everyone to leave. Ivy, however, couldn’t bring herself to abandon the Green. Therefore, Harley decided she wasn’t going to abandon Ivy. With her baseball bat in one hand and Ivy in the other, Harley watched the ark leave home. She knew she was going to be left on the planet mostly alone and waiting for the inevitable, but she could live with that.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 245: The Second One

Previously on BnHA: We kicked off day one of New Internships with a fun-filled morning of shenanigans. Highlights included: (1) an old bearded man gallivanting around town telling everyone the world is going to end (and making a surprising amount of sense); (2) Bakugou and Deku attempting to rough up a group of impassioned hobos, only to have their thunder stolen from right underneath their noses; and (3) Hawks, the thunder-stealer himself, who proceeded to be all “what’s up fellas, hey Endeavor did you miss me?” Endeavor, who totally did miss him, pretended like he had not, and meanwhile Hawks introduced himself to Endeavor’s new trainees: Finger-Smashing Kid, Kid Who Used To Work For The Guy You Just Murdered, and Shouto (Just Shouto). Then he pulled out a copy of Re-Destro’s book and was all, “hey Endeavor have you heard of this book which was really important to the plot in the previous arc? I think you should read it, for reasons!!” and Endeavor just kind of stared at him, which wasn’t exactly inspiring. Anyways let’s see if these two idiots can manage to pull this off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks shoves the Liberation Army’s book into Endeavor’s hands while staring at him with the intensity of a thousand suns, and then, to avoid suspicion, proceeds to hand out another 500,000 copies of the book without even being asked. He then flies back to the PLF headquarters and is all “good news gentlemen, I gave out copies of the Army’s book to everyone in Japan!” and they’re all “that’s great, Hawks!” because somehow it turns out that this was actually a good plan. Back at the Endeavor Agency HQ, the kids meet Endeavor’s 30+ other sidekicks, who are all “now let’s all stand around and wait for Endeavor to tell us what to do.” Over in his office, Endeavor shrewdly deduces that Hawks was trying to tell him something, and pieces together the hidden code Hawks left in his book, which basically reads “IN FOUR MONTHS WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.” Back at the PLF, the League cheerfully discusses their plot to blow up the entire world come Springtime. Which apparently everyone is on board with. So, uh, does anyone else feel like they accidentally fell asleep during a really important part of the movie, because uh. What.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

okay so two things: (1) as I mentioned in a previous post, Caleb Cook reported that this chapter took him more than 4 times longer than usual to translate. so like, what does that mean?? guess we’re about to find out!

and (2) HAWKS’S REAL NAME. I started typing up this recap early just so I could liveblog my reaction, since it seems that the databook has leaked, and I figure I’m going to stumble across this sooner rather than later. so I’m just going to look it up now here goes!!

AHHHH TAKAMI KEIGO AHHHH

lol. I have no idea what that actually means. let me look up some more stuff about this

oooh thank you reddit!

ooh damn, I love it!? “hawk” + “vision” lolol HORIKOSHI BACK AT IT AGAIN. but “watchman” is a really nice bonus what with how it relates both to the whole spying biz, and in a more general sense toward what he is trying to do as a hero trying to protect society. plus the name “Keigo” just has a really nice sound to it in general. kind of a boyish, youthful sound. not too hard or soft. idk. I like it. that was my favorite character in Bleach too

also apparently both of the kanji used for “Keigo” mean “enlightenment” oooh. my god I could analyze this all day. this being Thursday night, I’ll have some time to ruminate before I read the chapter tomorrow, so if I have any epiphanies I will add them in later!

(ETA: no additional thoughts on this right now, but there is now a ton of other content out from Ultra Analysis, so let’s take a quick look at some of that!

Haagen Dazs’s gender:  I now feel vindicated in continuing to refer to him as a “he” even after the face reveal! let this be a lesson to everyone never to judge a shounen character solely by how pretty they are. not that it wouldn’t have been nice to have another female villain! anyways the important thing is that I still don’t have his name memorized and never will!

Thirteen’s gender?!: now this, I don’t really like. Thirteen was already in the previous databook IIRC and their gender was ambiguous. which to be frank was awesome. having a canon nonbinary character was sick. why you gotta do this now Horikoshi smdh.

Reason for Shouji’s mask: nooooo poor Shouji. people in quirk society are jerks! lol I get the arms being scary, but his face?? now I really want to see what he looks like though. it would be cool if he became more accepting of himself as a result of hanging with his chill classmates and decided to ditch the mask. anyways my boy needs a hug.

and there’s a lot of other stuff, including a whole series of cute segments showing the characters’ relationships with each other, but I think I’ll save those for another post because otherwise this would get way too off-track. but man, so far I’m really loving this.)

okay kiddos. it is now Friday, and time to take our horse to the hype town road. I have been waiting all fucking week for this shit so it had better not disappoint!

“Rising to Action” ooh, nice. guess this is not much of a “sit still” gang, here

okay so we’re picking off right where we left off, and guys, I just need to know, does anyone other than me find this kind of hilarious

like, I don’t know why but just. Endeavor’s face. omg. he just looks like he’s trying so hard to figure out what’s wrong. I think what it is is that this is the exact same bemused/perplexed expression that Shouto gets on his face all the freaking time, and it just tickles me to no end that the apple apparently doesn’t fall far from the tree. ahh Shouto I know you don’t want to hear this but damn boy you look like your dad

anyways. I think we can all agree Endeavor should not be looking this adorable and what the hell. let’s move on

LOOOOOOL

why is this so funny ahhhhhhh. they’re so fucking serious please stop. I mean, but of course they’re serious, though. the weird one is me, right? whatever!

so now here’s the handoff. between these two super-serious dudes

Endeavor you had better not do like me and be all “of course I’ll read it!” fully intending to follow through (really!) but then you never do and everyone is super disappointed and you start to read something else instead, all the while feeling incredible guilt! my point is, Endeavor, I hope you don’t have ADHD or we’re all fucking screwed omg

lol though thankfully we have a backup!

“oh boy!” clamors Deku, a gleam of excitement in his eye. “homework!”

OH MY GOD

WHO ARE YOU, OPRAH

ff now he’s just SLAPPING THEM INTO THEIR HANDS omg. this is amazing

love how Katsuki is keeping an extra 1.5 meters of space in between him and the others because cooties. or something

anyways! I really want them all to read it actually so this is awesome! KACCHAN YOU ESPECIALLY. I want you to read it and then give it a disgusted 1 star review on goodreads. show me how much you’ve grown kiddo

lmaooo

Todoroki Shouto. god’s perfect idiot. bless this child. someone explained Occam’s razor to him one day, and he just sat there nodding like “yes that makes perfect sense” and proceeded to apply it to every fucking thing in his life from there on out. “what’s Hawks doing carrying around 10,000 copies of The Book of PLF and just handing them out to strangers like an old lady on Halloween? processing... processing... oh I see, he probably just REALLY LIKES THE BOOK how keen”

this is what Hawks is up against. this squad of certified morons with two whole brain cells shared among them on a good day. boy literally brought three backup secret messages just in case Endeavor was too dense to figure this out, only to watch these kids exclaim, with perfect sincerity, “GOSH, HAWKS MUST REALLY LIKE THIS BOOK, HUH”

and meanwhile the best Endeavor can do is “............something.......... feels.... off.......” fml. we’re all gonna die. Hawks, I’m sorry. you tried!! next time give Momo your secret message instead!

so now he says that he’s actually recommending this book to all of his acquaintances omg. don’t tell me this handsome canary is actually going around handing out books to every single person he knows?? all to cover up this one action of giving Endeavor the book with the secret message highlighted in it?? okay guys help me decide: is this brilliance or stupidity? like, what is even going on inside Hawks’s head. “I’ll just fly around handing out copies of Atlas Fucking Shrugged to everyone I meet. that’ll seem really natural”

I s2g Endeavor if you don’t follow up on this...! THE WORLD IS COUNTING ON YOU YOU BIG MEATHEAD. GET TO READIN’. MAKE LEVAR PROUD

and now Hawks is flying away with his hands in his pockets

godspeed you dramatically casual bastard

now Deku is all “you know, he’s not much older than us, but he really seems like he’s got his shit together!” which, yeah. don’t you hate that? the truth is though it’s all an act, and he’s actually just as screwed up as the rest of you! the moral is: never trust any 22-year-old who seems like they’ve got their shit together. because, no. he sits on a throne of lies

Endeavor are you actually being thoughtful??!

oh my god. we may actually have a chance here. praise be

now we are cutting to the Endeavor agency! guys, fucking look at this fucking ‘E’, though

ngl that shit is dope. I’m mad. I would buy his merch just for the logo and I hate that about myself

holy shit

the... flaming hot... oh my god

holy shit there’s so many of them

(ETA: hold up -- “Bakugou” and “Shouto”? this is a crucial detail here; they’re using Bakugou’s last name, but Shouto’s given name. so either they’re calling him Shouto because they know his pop, or -- more likely -- they’re calling him “Shouto” because that’s his hero name. in which case, “Bakugou” most likely also refers to “Bakugou” as in the hero name, not his actual name. meaning that still is his hero name. meaning he is still undecided. fucking... Katsuki. honey. why.

ffff and the new databook seems to support this too. instead of a hero name, Horikoshi just wrote ��XXX” indicating he still hasn’t made up his mind. welp. looks like it’s back on that slow burn character development train, folks. maybe by the end of this arc, though? please? Horikoshi? Horikoshi damn it look at me.)

so this is how the number one operates, huh. meanwhile All Might only ever had one sidekick, and reluctantly at that. he really was so far out ahead of everyone else that he was basically untouchable. crazy

anyways, yes! they don’t know anything about anything so please teach them!

good grief this girl says Endeavor has over thirty sidekicks?? lmao and her name is “Burnin’.” please tell me the missing g is an actual part of her name please I need this

wow, Burnin’ really went and tried to pick a fight with my famously hot-tempered son knowing full well what his personality is like. and just look at him keeping his cool and firing back though

oh, Katsuki. [hair ruffle] he will thrive here

damn these guys are passionate

Endeavor seriously picked these people as his sidekicks? that Endeavor? they didn’t annoy the shit out of him?? that man is an enigma

btw can we all just stop here for a moment and give a shoutout to this horse-looking dude because. look at him. amazing. new fave

anyway so now the mummy-looking guy is explaining how they organize their shift schedule

so professional. this really is the big leagues

yoooooo my boy is FIRED UP. READY TO SAVE SOME BITCHES! YESSSSS WIN AND RESCUE LET’S DO THIS

LET’S FUCKING GOOOO omg I love him so much. Kacchan you need to cool it or I’m going to spend this whole fucking chapter ruffling your hair

(ETA: incidentally, here’s something I neglected to point out earlier: in spite of being a belligerent asshole in general, Katsuki for the most part is actually surprisingly respectful to most adults, especially heroes. so it’s interesting then that so far, this doesn’t seem to apply to Hawks. he almost seems to consider him another rival rather than another mentor/teacher-type figure to learn from. I wonder if this is because -- as Deku pointed out earlier this chapter -- Hawks is much closer to them in age than the other heroes. it’s interesting that that was pointed out -- and that in the very next panel Katsuki was grumbling about how Hawks pisses him off, at that.

anyway. this BakuHawks rivalry seems to be an established thing now, so I’m very curious to see how this develops.)

lol now Mummy Guy is all “that’s great! now we just need to wait for Endeavor to tell us what to do!” and Kacchan is like “WHAT”

I mean, he’s got a point lol. “we’re so busy!” “great let’s get to work!” “actually we don’t have any work yet!” like, what a fucking tease. don’t worry Kacchan, they’re just waiting to make sure they assign you boys a job that’s plot-related so we don’t waste any time

ahhh, and now we finally come to the moment we’ve all been waiting for! the part that apparently took four hours to translate! ENDEAVOR READING A BOOK

yeah he was acting like he had a freaking gun to his head. why don’t heroes have secret code phrases they can use to let each other know some weird fucking shit is up? or maybe they do, but since he’s being recorded and since PLF has some heroes on roster who probably know those same codes (looking at you, Slidin’), Hawks didn’t want to risk one of them figuring it out. that makes sense

ahhh, here we go

don’t tell me Caleb tried to translate this whole thing. though I gotta admit I am hella curious

anyway. so the rest of this page is Endeavor metaing about Hawks, and it’s some good stuff, ngl

he really is fond of him, huh. look at all those pictures. how many mental snapshots did you take of this kid smiling?? he’s so adopted it hurts

and look at the concern in that last panel! “why is he acting so weird, that’s not like him, I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.” damn, Hawks really did put his trust in the exact right person and it’s paying off

ENDEAVOR STOP MAKING THESE SOFT WORRIED FACES ABOUT HAWKS RIGHT THIS INSTANT I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THESE FEELS

god damn!! I don’t know why, but I continue to be surprised and impressed at how the character development of Endeavor is actually a subscribe and save deal and not just a one-time purchase. fucking look at Todoroki Enji, proud annual recipient of a different “world’s worst dad” mug every Father’s Day, actually caring enough about another human being to notice the subtle changes in his behavior and realize something is wrong. bruh. good for you!! human compassion is a damn good look for you, negl. fucking growth right here and I’m here for it

anyways, on to the hidden code!

and here are all of the highlighted portions for your code-breaking pleasure

fucking feel like I’m reading Detective Conan right now. yeesh

oooh!

BINGPOT LOOOOOL WHY DID I GET SO EXCITED OKAY LET ME GO BACK AND READ!

“the” “enemy” “liberation” “army” ahhhhhh! HAWKS YOU SNEAKY SON OF A BITCH. GOOD JOB ENDEAVOR!

and now we’re cutting back to Hawks, nooooo I wanted to see Endeavor’s reaction! come on!

lmao although it’s worth it to see Hawks mentally roasting Endeavor exactly like I was mere pages ago omg

his fucking face omg. that’s right Hawks, he’s not the brightest crayon in the box. not the sharpest tack in the bulletin board. he’s a few fries short of a happy meal. the elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor

but give him some credit, though! because he did figure it out! not necessarily because he was clever, but because he knows you!

oh shit lol

OH SO YOU PLANNED THAT PART TOO. WELL OKAY THEN

goddamn. he really is a clever bastard. and okay but in all seriousness, I fucking love that he has enough faith in this weird connection between them that out of all the ploys he could have gone with, this is what he chose. he seriously put all his eggs in the “Endeavor will figure it out from my face” basket. and it fucking paid off. this is awesome

AHHHHHHHHHHHH HERE WE GO

LOOK AT HIS EYE OH MY GOD. YOU CAN SEE THE EXACT MOMENT WHEN HE REALIZES HOW SCREWED THEY ALL ARE, YES, FUCK, THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR OH GOD

and we’re cutting back to Hawks again! I’ll just assume the rest of his message went something like “we” “are” “boned” and Endeavor’s face was like :o

BACK AT THE OL’ VILLAIN HOTEL!!!

LOL WHAT IS THIS

THEY HAVE A FUCKING COUNCIL NOW

whose seat is that over on the left? Hawks’s? is Gigantomachia actually wearing a shirt?? AND SHOW US TOMURA’S FACE HORIKOSHI YOU COWARD

lmao oh my god are they really buying this shit

look at him. so trustworthy. nothing to suspect over here! just a 100% sincere born-again villain committed to the cause!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NOOOOOO MY BABIES ARE EXPOSED. HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER PROTECT THEM I SWEAR TO GOD!!!

wow is the whole conversation just shifting over to the topic of Deku now, seriously?

oh my god oh my god oh my god. like. it’s been so long since the forest lodge and Kamino that I almost forgot that the League already knows these kids. they did fight Deku and Shouto briefly in the woods, and then they had an extended fight against Katsuki later on, although Dabi was unconscious for that part. anyways, shit. just like that they’re on their radar again I’m getting chills omgggg

(ETA: at least they’re underestimating them, though. “looks like he hasn’t gotten much stronger.” boy have you not heard about his bloop? that bloop will fuck you up just you wait!)

so now have some weird panels of Hawks walking through a door

(ETA: ohhhh you can see the door closing on the tip of his wing close-up! sneaky!)

ooh! wtf are you serious he can use his feathers to eavesdrop?!

(ETA: it only just clicked on my second read-through that Spinner of all people appears to be the mastermind behind this plan? like, am I reading this right? is he Tomura’s second-in-command now or what? damn, boy, good for you.)

okay, question. if he could do this the entire time, why did they even need him to pretend to join the League at all? I guess you never know when having a man on the inside who can possibly influence their decision-making will come in handy. but still, it seems to me like he could have easily done the spying bit without ever having to join up. ehhh but I guess there’s probably a range limit, and too much risk of the feathers getting caught and destroyed... eh, fine. I’ll allow it

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT EXCUSE ME WHAT?????

AND OF COURSE THAT’S THE END OF THE CHAPTER, LOL, FUCK. EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO STAND IN A CORNER AND SCREAM

lol “danger lurks” fucking you think?? what the hell! so they have an actual plan already, with the details outlined to the extent that they actually have a freaking timetable and everything? and the Liberation Army is on board with this whole thing too? the “destroying everything” part and all? this is too much to process all at once fuck me I can’t

okay! so four months from now is also when the kids will enter their second year! so that means Shinsou can get in on this action too. I’m trying to think of other significant plot things this could potentially imply, but none are coming to mind right now, other than it’ll be the anniversary of USJ. but that’s basically it. -- oh, wait, this also means that there’ll be a new first-year class of students at U.A. too! so that could be interesting. some potential new characters, and a chance for Deku and the others to be senpais. incidentally, to the best of my knowledge the kids will all stay in the same class and Aizawa will continue to be their homeroom teacher in year two. so nothing will change really aside from them becoming 2-A rather than 1-A. and Shinsou joining them, as mentioned. omg

anyway! let me see, any other stray thoughts before I wrap this up? I guess it’s worth noting that Toga’s eye is fine. the League has healed up pretty nicely in general actually. like, that’s seriously impressive for a group that doesn’t have Recovery Girl on staff. how long has it even been since Deika? a few weeks? this is almost ridiculous

and the “boom” -- is that literal? like they’re actually planning to blow everything up? or is that a metaphorical boom. fucking what kind of plan did they come up with where they actually think they can destroy THE ENTIRETY OF JAPAN all at once? is there a doomsday device?? what exactly is this “power” they’re talking about? HAWKS WHY DIDN’T YOU PUT THAT IN YOUR STUPID MESSAGE YOU BOOB

hahaha. anyways. it came down to the last two pages, but that certainly was a reveal worthy of all the hype. to sum: yikes

[tvdversefanfiction]

Canary Carnage

Chapter Thirteen: Killer Carnage

Warnings: I don’t own any of the rights, content or characters belonging to any of the DC content I use within the story along with not owning any rights, content or characters within The Vampire Diaries, Originals or Legacies.

18 Rating: Moderate/Graphic displays of violence, sexual innuendos, sexually charged scenes, SMUT, strong language and potentially triggering scenes.

Pairings: M/M, F/F, M/F.

Elijah Mikaelson couldn’t help but to be left feeling uneasy following Laurel Lance returning to New Orleans permanently although he definitely enjoyed having her back he could help but feel guilty for wanting her back in a city that held so much pain for the both of them.

However it was Lucas Lance’s return or rather the arrival of his Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne that Elijah was much more concerned by and so he wasted very little time in getting to know the infamous Blue Canary, quickly discovering that Lucas Wayne was a far cry from Lucas Lance.

Although there were similarities between the two doppelgangers other than their looks: Both Lucas’ were smart and calculating with a determined drive to stay alive, both had complicated relationships with their biological mothers and both had managed to capture the attention of Elijah’s brother Klaus Mikaelson much to everyone’s worries considering how bad the original hybrid’s curiosity with Lucas Lance ended.

“I see your settling into New Orleans rather well Mr Wayne.” Elijah greeted the Earth X doppelganger after vamp speeding into Rousseau's, speeding over to the bar counter to find Lucas Wayne serving drinks to customers with Josh stood by his side. “I believe your also living with the Lance sisters at their hotel.”

“I’ve got this,” Lucas told Josh before walking over to face off with the noble original vampire, leaving Josh to tend to customers as he spoke to Elijah. “The pristine suit which looks pricy as hell must mean you’re Elijah Mikaelson. I’ve met your brother Klaus he’s what I call an original stalker of sorts.”

“My brother Niklaus is merely being cautious you see your doppelganger Lucas Lance proved himself rather troublesome for everyone including himself and we don’t want a repeat of that for everyone’s sakes…especially your mother’s.” Elijah informed the Blue Canary.

“I get it Lucas Lance was the villain in your story but in mine people like you, your siblings and god even my mother were the villains.” Lucas replied to Elijah. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go and I’m beginning to believe I’m here to save this city.”

“What is it you think that this city needs saving from?” Elijah scoffed at him as he took a seat at the counter.

“First guess would be the vampires who treat humans like walking snacks, the wolves keep themselves to themselves so they’re not on the agenda and the witches are pretty hit and miss.” Lucas answered him before going over to pour the original a glass of straight whisky before walking back over and serving Elijah his drink. “I’m not coming for anyone in particular but I won’t stand by if anyone or anything comes for the few innocents around here.”

“Are you threatening me Mr Wayne or are you threatening my entire family?” Elijah asked him before taking a drink of his whisky, only to smile at the taste of this whisky. “I guess you’re the kind of bartender who knows their customer’s drink.”

“I like Sara and I’m even fond of Laurel so when they tell me somebody’s good I’ll accept it until they prove otherwise however nobody has anything nice to say about Klaus Mikaelson and his stalking of me isn’t helping me think otherwise.” Lucas admitted to Elijah. “As for your drink consider it on me as a thanks for putting your brother in line…unless you want me to do the job for you?”

“My brother Niklaus isn’t someone who is easily handled especially considering how fond he was of your doppelganger…personally I didn’t see why.” Elijah informed Lucas before downing his drink and placing the empty glass onto the counter. “I much prefer this Lucas standing in front of me however morals are a rare thing around here and they tend to get you killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Mr Mikaelson.” Lucas responded with a sincere smile on his face before Elijah vamp sped out of Rousseau's and out of sight.

“Declaring war on the Mikaelson’s doesn’t end well for you trust me my friend Marcel once thought he could survive that family and let’s just say you won’t see him in New Orleans anymore.” Josh warned Lucas as he walked over to his new employee. “He was considered family to them as well.”

“I’ve dealt with murderous mothers, overbearing fathers, endless superhuman enemies and literally Nazi’s in my time I’m sure I can handle a vampire or two.” Lucas boasted to his vampire boss only to be met by Josh laughing at him.

“Funny your less evil than your evil twin but your just as foolish.” Josh scoffed at the Blue Canary. “Forgive me for my advice I’m just the only person in this city that doesn’t seem to have a death wish.”

Josh Rosza was far wiser than his years but hid behind an adorable yet admit-tingly dorky personality which had served him very well as a vampire especially considering everyone around him had died and yet he continued to advise his friends to follow suit only to see them take different paths.

His first greatest loss was the love of his life Aiden who fell victim to the Mikael’s ruthless aunt Dahlia before he found himself losing his best friend Davina several times before losing her for what seemed like for good and in the last five years alone he had lost his close friend Marcel Gerard again due to the Mikaelson’s.

When Davina first returned to New Orleans five years ago Josh’s biggest fear was losing her again to a doomed fate but instead, she gave up her need for vengeance against Klaus as she fell back in love with Kol and got married.

Although the wonder witch still lived in the city their friendship had changed and became strained as Josh made clear his distaste over their handling of Marcel Gerard. Josh was determined to find Marcel being the only one who hadn’t given up on the updated original and that put a strain on his relationship with Davina Claire-Mikaelson.

However, in the last five years he had found himself forming a new friendship with the Black Canary keeping in touch over his mission to find his friend and her mission to save the world and now he had her son, or at least some version of her son, working for him and feared Lucas Wayne would either follow the same path as his doppelganger Lucas Lance or his estranged friend Davina.

Five years earlier Klaus Mikaelson had found himself growing rather close to Lucas Lance despite a determination to do anything considering the Red Canary was selfish, reckless, manipulative and calculating, all the things Klaus used to be before he became a father. It took him time to realize that what attracted him most to Lucas was how much the canary reminded him of himself.

Of course it grew more complicated as he learned more about the Red Canary realizing the meta-human was nowhere near as heartless as he’d have liked people to admit and far more troubled than even he realized unleashing Klaus’ need to want to help Lucas find his way like his siblings and his daughter helped him but unlike Klaus’ long and immortal life the Red Canary’s life was cut short.

Lucas Lance was never a great love of his life and Klaus doubted he would’ve been had they been together longer but his memory did serve as a painful reminder of a time he failed somebody he actually wanted to help and therefore the arrival of Lucas’ Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne only served to remind the original hybrid even more and for that reason he had been avoiding the Blue Canary like a plague until he was told to do exactly that and Klaus Mikaelson never did what he was told.

“Listen up Klaus because I’m only going to say this once under no circumstances whatsoever are you to come near Lucas. The last thing we need right now is your undead ass fucking up my sister’s chance of getting to know her son.” Sara demanded as she walked into the compound to find Klaus stood waiting for her.

“Just because my sister has grown fond of you doesn’t mean I’m not going to tear your head off for the nerve of trying to make demands of me besides the last Lucas found more danger with you than he ever did with me.” Klaus snapped back at the White Canary.

“That was different…we had just lost our mother…we thought there was no going back for him.” Sara replied with a clear sense of regret in her voice. “This is our chance to do right by him.”

“The only problem with that logic is Lucas Wayne isn’t Lucas Lance which means he’s not your nephew or your sister’s son. You’ve just let some stranger straight into your home because he looks familiar.” Klaus told her with a hint of judgement on his face, knowing Sara, Laurel and Rebekah were to blame for Lucas Lance’s demise.

“He is Lucas though or at least the way Lucas used to be until everything went to shit. This version of him is kind, loyal and heroic just like the baby brother I grew up with.” Sara admitted to the original hybrid as tears formed in her eyes. “He may have a different history and he may not know me or Laurel but he’s so much like the Lucas I used to know it makes me feel…”

“Guilty that you gave up on the original?” Klaus butted in, all too eager to make the canary feel even more guilty. “He’s not your second chance Sara and he’s not going to make it right how you and your sister plotted to murder your own blood all because he had an episode or two.”

“He murdered our mother that’s not an episode or two!” Sara reminded Klaus, furious that the original would dismiss her mother’s death like it was nothing, also furious that she gave up on her adoptive brother so easily and that he was reminding her of how she failed him. “Please just stay the hell away from this Lucas!”

“I’ll take it into consideration Miss Lance.” Klaus lied, knowing damn fine he was now going to make himself well known to the Blue Canary.

Klaus Mikaelson initially had no intention to have any contact with Lucas Wayne following their initial meeting weeks ago but after learning how much Sara Lance wanted him to stay away he just couldn’t pass an opportunity to put the White Canary in her place still loathing her for murdering his elder sister Freya Mikaelson and holding her just as responsible for Laurel in the parts they played in Lucas Lance’s death.

In fact, Klaus genuinely believed he had moved on from Lucas Lance’s death but the idea of his family being so quick to embrace a purer version of him angered the original hybrid far more than he thought it would and now he wanted to teach the Lance sisters a lesson for dishonoring the memory of a man they helped murder.

Caitlin Snow was a powerful woman long before she discovered she was a meta-human working as a well-respected bio-engineer at S.T.A.R. Labs alongside her fiancé Ronnie Raymond who was a structural engineer for the company but everything changed for her upon her fiance's mysterious disappearance eventually turning her from a loving and caring woman to someone with an ice cold heart as Killer Frost was born.

Caitlin chose a life of villainy following her heartbreak after discovering her powers of thermometric cryokinesis taking on the villainess mantle as Killer Frost leaving Caitlin Snow and all she worked for behind which led to her becoming enemies with some of the most powerful heroes including the Black Canary.

Killer Frost had a long and complicated history with Laurel Lance having once been best friends with the canary only to later become obsessed in bringing her down always failing until the death of the multiverse gave her an opportunity to arrive on Earth X, a world which followed none of the rules that the other worlds did in the now dead multiverse.

The realization that the Black Canary currently residing within Earth X wasn’t the Black Canary from her world hadn’t stopped her obsession especially with Killer Frost’s new friends, all of which were determined to destroy at least one if not all three of the canaries within New Orleans.

“In such a big and busy city, it’s quite remarkable to find such peace in a quiet little place like this.” Frost stated as she walked into the quiet Rousseau's bar to find Lucas Wayne stood behind the bar wiping down the counter. “Either you’re a really bad bartender or people are scared to come into this establishment.”

“I guess you’re officially stopping me from having to close anytime soon.” Lucas greeted the long white-haired woman as she walked over to the bar and sat down at the counter. “You look strangely familiar…have we met before?”

“Nope you don’t exist in my timeline or my world which also doesn’t exist anymore.” She replied, making it clear to the Blue Canary that she was from the multiverse. “This world is quite intriguing, but the only downfall seems to be there’s one too many Lances around here.”

“I’m a Wayne not a Lance but I’m more interested in who the bloody hell you are?” Lucas wondered just as Laurel walked into the bar looking horrified to see Killer Frost, who instantly rose from her chair and turned around to face the Black Canary.

“Killer Frost…you’re supposed to be long dead not to mention the world itself died after you!” Laurel said in shock, clearly uneasy to see an old foe.

“I’m not exactly the Killer Frost you know but I hate you just as much if not more.” Frost revealed to Laurel, as she found herself stood between both canaries. “If you think your Earth X son was the only one to jump ship before the death of the multiverse than you thought wrong.”

“You should leave now before you wind up just as dead as your other doppelgangers!” Laurel warned Frost, with a look of hatred in her eyes, a look Lucas had never seen from the Black Canary but had seen from the Black Siren one time too many.

“My father told me all about you, you were long dead on my Earth too but you were quite the formidable foe before that…in my world you were my twisted mother’s closest confidant so it only makes sense you hate the good versions of her.” Lucas piped in, once again showing a vast knowledge about the multiverse.

“You’re so much more than just a looker if only you were a bit redder instead of blue we may have got along!” Killer Frost told Lucas before lifting her hand in his direction shooting out a large ice blast from the palm of her hands as Laurel released a canary cry in her direction, the ice blast hitting Lucas and throwing him into the glass cabinet filled with alcohol destroying it before throwing Lucas down to the ground, as Laurel’s canary cry sent the villainess Killer Frost flying across the bar before hitting a wall and crash landing onto the ground.

“I warned you to get the hell out of here Caitlin!” Laurel shouted at the doppelganger of her nemesis. “Now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

The Blue Canary and Killer Frost both rose to their feet at the same time, the Blue Canary ready to charge at the villainess white haired woman while the white haired woman had all eyes on the Black Canary but before anyone could attack Klaus vamp sped into the bar, speeding all the way over to Lucas before grabbing a hold of him and vamp speeding out of Rousseau's with the Blue Canary leaving a confused Laurel Lance standing alone in the bar with her nemesis Caitlin Snow.

“Well I was planning on killing you both, but I suppose I’m not totally pissed it’s just you and me now!” Killer Frost told the Black Canary before raising her hand to release another ice blast in Laurel’s direction, just as Laurel released a large canary cry in the direction of the villainess.

If Laurel was going to win against Caitlin Snow’s ruthless alter ego Killer Frost then she had better get her head in the game but with the doppelganger of her son just being kidnapped by Klaus Mikaelson she couldn’t help but worry about Lucas Wayne and what the original hybrid had in store for him.

Klaus Mikaelson had learned a lot about the canaries during the five years in which Sara and Laurel had clashed with him and his family and although his siblings had built friendships with the Lance sisters he had kept wary of them deciding to instead study the canaries and learn their weaknesses.

Klaus was forever paranoid about betrayals and potential feuds after all his family’s worst enemies tended to be close allies at some stage before turning against them and so he found it wiser to study all that came into his life knowing how best to take them both down if he needed to, which he always did.

He knew Laurel’s canary cry was pretty powerful so much so that it destroyed the hollow and their blood was special enough to restore Elijah’s memories and he also knew the canaries could die just like Lucas Lance died or be turned into a vampire like Sara Lance.

The canaries were powerful but only as powerful as their cry or at least that’s what Klaus believed and thanks to a brief alliance with Nyssa al Ghul he knew exactly how to deal with a canary cry putting the Blue Canary exactly where he wanted him.

“This should give us some proper time alone!” Klaus stated after vamp speeding into Lafayette Cemetery with Lucas and putting a power dampening collar around the son of batman’s neck. “Don’t want you getting any advantage over me with that damn canary cry.”

Lucas wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the original hybrid’s arm as he bent himself over and threw Klaus over his back until the vampire hit the ground with force while Lucas twisted his arm, popping the arm out of its socket before harshly stomping his foot down on Lucas’ throat, easing off just enough to let the hybrid speak.

“I don’t need a cry to kick your ass Klaus!” Lucas shouted at him before Klaus grabbed a hold of the Blue Canary and flung him over his body forcing the canary to land on the ground next to the vampire, as Klaus popped his arm back into its socket after a series of groans.

“I hate you!” Klaus furiously stated to Lucas as he climbed on top of his body, preparing to strangle the canary only to be headbutt in the face by Lucas, followed by Lucas kicking the vampire upwards, before Klaus finally found his footing as Lucas stood up to face him.

“You don’t even know me!” Lucas snapped back at Klaus before the original hybrid sped towards him, only for the Blue Canary to deliver a series of punches across the vampire’s face before Klaus threw him to the ground, Lucas grabbing a hold of Klaus, making the vampire fall on top of the canary.

“I…” Klaus said before pausing as he looked into the eyes of the Blue Canary, as hidden feelings began to rise and suddenly the vampire found himself kissing a stunned Lucas only for Lucas to respond by grabbing the vampire and throwing his body over his own, making Klaus hit the ground harshly once again as Lucas rose to his feet.

“What the hell do you think your doing?” Lucas questioned Klaus, as Klaus quickly stood back up, both looking as confused as the other.

“You just look so much like him…” Klaus reluctantly admitted to the canary. “I guess the only reason I want you dead is because your forcing me to feel something I don’t want to feel.”

“I surprisingly understand where you’re coming from I mean I’m not going around trying to kill then kiss people but it’s not easy seeing a doppelganger of my mother whose nothing like her so I can only imagine how hard it must be to see a doppelganger of somebody you were once in love with.” Lucas replied to Klaus, surprising the original with his kindness.

“I was never in love with Lucas Lance…I cared for him, but I never loved him.” Klaus revealed to the Blue Canary, admitting not only to him but himself. “I don’t normally try to be a hero, but I really wanted to save him and not because I loved him but because he reminded me of him.”

“Sara filled me in on how you used to be a lot worse than what you are now which is saying something if this is the filtered down version.” Lucas joked with Klaus as he sat down on a nearby wall. “I guess my doppelganger reminded you of just how bad you were, how far you’ve come and how much better your life is because of it. You wanted that for him because if he could get it someone who was probably nowhere near as ruthless as you once were then in some way it’d be like you deserved the life your living but instead he got took down and you can’t help but think maybe you should’ve been taken out too.”

“Are you seriously trying to psychoanalyze me because I can promise you, I’m nowhere near as deep as you’re assuming, I am nor do I regret any action I’ve made in the past.” Klaus argued with Lucas, refusing to admit there was some truth in Lucas’ words.

“Sometimes heroes last long enough to become villains and sometimes villains find their way back to heroes once more but that’s not on anybody if they don’t find their way back least of all a thousand year old vampire whose actions are morally questionable on a good day.” Lucas explained to Klaus, as Klaus sat down next to the Blue Canary, listening to him despite looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “I’m not Lucas Lance but I’m not some pillar of purity and goodness either we live in a grey world Klaus although admittedly redder here on Earth Blood. I can’t say what happened to my doppelganger was the right way to handle him nor it was the wrong way but what I can say is he’s not me and he’s not you either…it’s time to let it go.”

Lucas was right about Klaus holding onto the past righter than he could have possibly known as Klaus realized the words coming out of this Earth X doppelganger were wise and if he was wise, he’d take the Blue Canary’s advice.

It was in that moment for the first time since Lucas Wayne had arrive on Earth Blood that Klaus Mikaelson had started to see the Blue Canary for who he was and not just who he reminded him of.

Laurel Lance’s history with her world’s Caitlin Snow was very different to the one she had currently found herself coming face to face with: they had never been friends just enemies and it wasn’t the death of Ronnie Raymond which led to the birth of her world’s Killer Frost it was the death of Barry Allen which was her world’s first flash before Wally West took over the mantle.

Laurel may have never seen a good side to Killer Frost but she knew people who did such as Cisco Ramone and Wally West and it was those friendships that constantly put her at odds with the villainess making the Black Canary very wary of the manic meta-human but not fully unaware of her potential to be redeemed.

The Black Canary and Killer Frost’s fight lasted for a long time much to the expense of Rousseau's which had been destroyed from the inside out with broken tables, chairs and bottles spread across the floor with planks of wood and glass scattered everywhere as Laurel found herself beaten, broken and bruised while laid on a floor covered in the ruins of Rousseau's as Killer Frost stood above her looking victorious.

“I’ve always wanted to kill Laurel Lance, but I never thought it would be this easy.” Frost said while taunting Laurel, ready to kill the Black Canary. “It’s just a shame you’re the one who made it here but oh well every Laurel’s practically the same even the not so pure ones.”

“You are better than this Caitlin! I may not know this version of you but every version of you becomes like this because you lose someone you love.” Laurel told the white-haired woman, hoping to appeal to some humanity within her. “I lost my son my actual son and it broke me more than I ever thought it would but what your doing isn’t going to bring them back it’s just dishonoring their memory and what they meant to you.”

“Yeah here’s the thing I no longer care about anyone or anything.” Killer Frost replied as she magically formed an ice pick above her hand from out of thin air before Lucas sped into Rousseau's and clipped the power dampener collar around the white-haired woman’s neck before throwing her to the floor much to Laurel’s relief.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this, but Klaus Mikaelson actually comes in handy from time to time!” Lucas declared as he walked over to Laurel, offering his hand to her and helping her get back onto her feet.

“Funnily enough I do believe it he always did have a soft spot for that face.” Laurel admitted to Lucas before the both turned to look at a pissed off Killer Frost whose was slowly getting back on her feet as her white hair turned brown.

“What are we going to do about little miss frosty?” Lucas asked Laurel who surprised him with a smile on her face as she watched Killer Frost’s hair turn completely brown.

“We’re going to help Killer Frost find Caitlin Snow once more.” Laurel revealed to a surprised Lucas, who was in awe of this version of his mother’s sense of forgiveness and kindness.

“Okay…but we’re going to need a cage or something to keep her in the meantime.” Lucas suggested just as Klaus sped into Rousseau's with a sinister smirk on his face.

“I may have a prison or two I’d be willing to lend the canaries…pending negotiations of course.” Klaus was eager to inform them all.

“Of course, you do!” Laurel scoffed while rolling her eyes, as she noticed Lucas and Klaus sharing a smile that made her feel very uneasy.

Laurel Lance had to deal with a lot since arriving on Earth Blood firstly the Mikaelson’s, then her twisted brother, then the Mikaelson’s and her brother only to then find out that baby brother of hers was actually her son before having to watch him meet a grizzly end but as she stood in the ruins of Rousseau's feeling the chemistry between Lucas Wayne and Klaus Mikaelson she had finally realized this was her all-time low.

The Black Canary was never a fan of the original hybrid, but she couldn’t argue with his weird sense of loyalty towards her son Lucas Lance even if it did confuse her she was happy someone was on his side especially considering she couldn’t be. However the Earth X doppelganger of her son Lucas Wayne was kind, honorable and loving, everything she believed Klaus Mikaelson wasn’t and the last thing she wanted was for the Blue Canary to end up just as bad if not worse than the Red Canary.

[docfuture]

Princess, part 7

     [This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16.  Links to some of my other work are here.  Updates are theoretically biweekly–next update is scheduled for February 16th.]

Previous: Part 6

     Full intragroup and intergroup relative advantage simulation run started.  Estimated time for results: 6 hours at current background priority.       Flicker finished her third high speed assessment of Practical Power Dynamics and supporting information on people and organizations that had used it.  It had sparked insights--it was full of interesting social science--but it was also full of traps.  Many of them seemed to be associated with naive scaling--the book's advice seemed unusually hostile to the incentive structures of large organizations, such as major corporations, government agencies, and international organized crime.  She didn't yet have the context to follow the social changes the book had inspired, other than the notable de-fetishization of gratuitous killing.  A long model run would help, but it would also take a while.       Flicker's focus was more on the personal.  Some of the advice on managing anger was intriguing, but it was unclear how applicable it would be for someone whose emotional processing was not entirely human.  What she had found most useful was the window into the thinking of a smart, astute human who had done serious work on the problem of long-term functioning with a large personal reservoir of anger.       She slowed down, moving herself back into squishy brain again, with active senses other than sight and touch.  Human senses, hearing and smell, for the sound from the high speed workstation fans and the cooling pumps for the server room, and the faint smell of the oil she'd used on a stuck robot earlier in the day.  She flexed her hands, which tingled as the normal flow of blood returned after a long bout of speed typing.       Her emotions shifted back to as normal as they ever got as well.       Journeyman was still watching.  It had been about a minute for him--and almost a day subjective for her, some of it spent thinking on her own while she waited on resource intensive bits of Database analysis.  She stood up from the high speed workstation and moved to the other end of the couch.       "The book's perspective on anger is useful," she said, "and there are some techniques that may end up helping with management--but that will probably take a while.  DASI is analyzing it and running simulations.  There is lots of subtext, and quirks because it wasn't really intended for someone with my level of power.  And we still have to sort through some of the traps, so I'll take my time, and it's securely recorded and backed up."       She handed the book back to him.  "Thank you for the loan."       "No problem."       Flicker exhaled slowly, releasing a bit of the tension she had built up.  "My level of background anger seems to be pretty high compared to most humans.  But not compared to the author of the book, apparently.  The way she talks about normal humans getting angry and calming down sounds like an anthropologist documenting weird alien behavior.  It's kind of funny because I find some of the same things weird.  So I can see why someone with normal human anger might find mine scary.  Like you do."       Flicker waved a hand.  "It's hard to explain because a lot of it isn't conscious.  It's just what I do, I don't know any other way.  But I can tell you something I know I do differently.  A lot of the things I see at high speed make me angry.  How could they not, if I care at all?  And my speed mind is wider than my squishy brain--it has way more short-term memory.  That's why I need to forget so much when I sleep--to keep the human part of me sane.  But some of the anger from the memories stays.  Only a little for each one, but it adds up.  More than anything I can do to calm down does.       "I have ways to dump that kind of anger, but only down to a certain point.  So I tend to be at or above my background anger level most of the time, unless I'm completely concentrating on something.  And new things can interact with the background and make it seem like I'm reacting disproportionately when I'm really not.  Does this help you understand better?"       Journeyman glanced down at the book, still in his hands, then put it back into his vest pocket.  "A bit.  I hope you're ready for some things that will make you angry, because I can't put them off any longer."       Flicker studied him.  "Speaking of traps and subtext, there was a bit in the book about not setting traps for yourself with unresolved conflicts.  We have one.  Have you been avoiding it to sustain your load-bearing social fiction?  Or because you were worried I'd be angry?"       "Both.  The spying you did the next time I was gone after scrambled memory day had some serious consequences."       "It was research on your background I needed to do because you didn't leave me any other options, and you never elaborated."       "You'd already stopped by the time I found out about it, and I didn't want to have that fight while you were my backup for the dicey mess I got myself into."  Journeyman spread his hands.  "You uncovered information about a fair number of my contacts.  One of them was a Diviner.  Doesn't matter how careful you are if you hit a canary secret from a prepared Diviner.  If the number of people who know it is small, and goes up, they can tell.  After I got back, I found a message from her telling me it had been fun, but she didn't want to die finding out the hard way that my new girlfriend was the jealous type.  She'd already disappeared.  I can't blame her--she knew you were my partner and correctly guessed you were the one digging.  Diviners that aren't paranoid about being hunted don't generally live to get old."       "But I wasn't--never mind."  She planned ahead based on plausible assumptions.       "Yeah.  My contacts don't know everything, and neither do you.  And that's the way it has to stay."       Flicker frowned.  "Okay, but I still don't understand the rules for how your magical communities function.  The information quality about them in the Database was really low:  A lot of implausible junk, some weird and disturbing stuff--most of it probably untrue--and occasional records of conflicts that left a body or bodies.  I wanted to find a good enough set of connections and opinions of you so I could see where you fit.  I was not trying to endanger anyone. That was why I put so much effort into preserving anonymity for everyone but you when I was digging.  And stopped when I realized it would fail.  I learned a lot of things I didn't expect.  Including how justified so many of the people you know are in fearing databases.  But only the Database knows who they are, I don't."       "They don't know that.  Limiting access to personally identifiable information can be a matter of life or death for them."  Journeyman smiled humorlessly.  "The torches and pitchforks crowds and burn-the-witch-itis have always interacted with privacy loss in ugly ways.  One consequence is that internal safety is an issue, and yes, that's something I have to balance.  I try not to make things worse.  But I did, when I became your partner.  I needed backup for too long, and you stopped waiting and started spying."       "I wanted to know about you, and if you'd been willing to sit down and talk to me--"  Not productive.  Redirect.  "I use the Database as a social prosthetic to keep from screwing up even worse than I do already.  You were being evasive.  I didn't know enough to tell if you were trying to get me to take a hint, so I used it to try to find out if I was taking the right hint.  There were Database privacy blocks keeping me from finding out what I wanted, and that stupid superhero social taboo against asking directly.  How else was I supposed to find out?  Telepathy?  Osmosis?  It was OSINT, active hacking and monitoring, or ghosting around to spy in person, and I picked the least intrusive option."       Journeyman nodded.  "That's what the Database told me, when I learned about the urgent trust hazard you'd created.  I understand.  But even open source intelligence is qualitatively different with your level of Database access.  Perceptions count for what I do, and it doesn't matter what you or I think, if my contacts start avoiding me because they're worried about a frighteningly powerful 16-year-old with high level Database access who is perceived as immature."       "How did this become common knowledge?  Did the Diviner tell people?"       "I did.  I knew there would be others, so I asked the Database for a list, got in touch with those I still could, and apologized."       Calm.  "Without telling me."       "I told you I'd handle the fallout--that it was a social problem, not a speed or power problem.  Remember?"       "Yes, but this was something I needed to know to correctly evaluate consequences.  And isn't it still a problem, just from us being partners?"       "At the moment, yes.  It's going to take time for me to rebuild trust."       Flicker shook her head.  Staying angry at him for concealing an apology would be both unhelpful and unfair.       "I see," she said.  "Any other unpleasant surprises you want to get out of the way?"       Journeyman clasped his hands and looked down at them.  "Several.  I've had time to think a little more about Doc not telling you things.  And you make assumptions based on what you think he must know.  But there is something I've picked up as a magician that you probably haven't.  Diviners tend to be paranoid and secretive, for good reasons.  A lot of Seers have serious trouble staying mentally healthy.  And true Oracles have to take extreme measures to stay sane and alive, and be really careful how they talk."       "What definitions are you using?  The Database says 'Seer' is used so broadly and vaguely it's almost meaningless."       "Ah, sorry.  Magicians can be sloppy with terminology, but what can you do?  A Diviner is a magician who specializes in information magic.  Seer is a catch-all label for anyone who sees or perceives things not accessible to normal senses that are at least sometimes accurate--they don't have to be trained and Seeing often isn't voluntary.  Breakpoint is an example of a Seer who isn't a magician.  An Oracle is a Seer who can see the future, know it's the future, and possibly affect it.  They are frickin' dangerous.  And rare.  And Doc comes across to me as an Oracle doing a very good job of hiding it."       "He isn't an Oracle, he's just good at long term extrapolation.  He does do some pretty weird analysis and debiasing tricks with Database projections, though."       "I think there's more to it, but it might not matter.  There are quirks he has, ways he talks about certain things, that make me wonder if he has a future-vision-o-mat down in the vaults.  And a way to stay functional as an Oracle is extreme compartmentalization--literally putting some things completely out of your mind.  That's risky if you get attacked, and I think Doc has been.  But he does have the Database, and the support for the kind of compartmentalization he would need was already there when I needed some of it, for the data I just put in escrow."       Journeyman looked back at her.  "So don't assume he has to know something because he knows other things.  And be careful about dismissing warnings if he can't share direct evidence.  Oracles can know without being able to show."       "That sounds pretty speculative," said Flicker, "but I'll keep it in mind."       "That's all I can ask."  Journeyman nodded slowly.  "And now for something else you'll probably consider speculative, but sure doesn't look that way to me.  Did Doc ever tell you how an Oracle duel works?"       Flicker sped up briefly to check the Database, then slowed again.  "No, but it sounds like something theoretical called a dual loop virtual time travel instability.  Does it involve nothing you can really see except strange apparent coincidences?"       "Yeah, that's what Doc called them.  I'm pretty sure now that the entire mess I got dragged into over a year ago--the deciding factor for my agreement to become your partner in the first place--was tangled up with a long running Oracle duel involving at least two sides.  And that's not even counting whatever indirect effect Doc's projections might have.  When I started to realize something was weird, I didn't think it had anything to do with you.  Aaand... I was wrong.  Figured that out last night, but it doesn't help much.  Even if you know you're caught in the gears, it's way too easy to tie yourself up in self-delusion, seeing things that aren't there..."       "Confirmation bias?"       "And a bunch of other kinds.  Multiply the problems in Doc's rant about using Bayesian analysis to catch a probability manipulator by a hundred.  And I'm fairly certain I was targeted to get at you."       Flicker frowned.  "Why?  Why am I not targeted directly?"       "You are--that would be Hermes.  There are multiple things going on, which is what makes this such a pain to try to unravel.  But you have a lot of protection from direct probability manipulation.  A bunch of older magicians that lived through the Cold War still cast regular little blessings against nuclear annihilation.  You get part of them because you can--and would--rip apart a nuclear war with thrown rocks.  And Doc and I still argue about the origin of some less obvious buffers for you that definitely exist.  But there's lot of hostile probability manipulation, too.  Like, everyone who can do it who wants to destroy the world or part of it, because you're pretty good at stopping that, and the easiest way to get it to happen is to trick you into doing it for them.  Now I'm not defenseless.  But it's like..."       Journeyman paused to think, then looked up at her.  "Suppose I'm somewhere with bullets and shrapnel flying around.  I'm better off than the average bystander because I have an anti-bullet ward.  But if I'm standing next to Armadillo and a bunch of machine guns are shooting at her, I'm in danger, because bullets miss and bounce, and my ward can only handle so much.  And if some of the gunners get the bright idea to shoot at me instead, I'm in real trouble, because what might only annoy her can kill me.  I'm the weak point."       He pressed a hand to his forehead.  "I think I'm your weak point.  In more than one way.  And yeah, there are things we could theoretically do to try to handle it all, but you know what those machine gun equivalents are very effective at preventing?  Calm, uninterrupted consideration of anything personal or contentious."       "I think we're managing okay," said Flicker.  "I mean, it's not exactly fun, but..."       "We haven't gotten to the contentious part.  And, uh... I'd kind of like to move somewhere neutral for that.  This is your home, and you may suddenly prefer I be elsewhere."       "I may even more suddenly need to talk to the Database, and the latency is lower here.  If I want you to leave I'll tell you.  And you can port out any time, if you stop feeling safe."       "I'm not feeling particularly safe now.  But I promised I'd stop evading, so...  Do you still want to go ahead?"       Flicker briefly consulted her reminder list, much of which now seemed outdated or inappropriate.  "I had a plan, but you derailed it by bringing up other stuff--important stuff--like you're afraid we won't ever get another chance to talk."       A steadying breath.  "So I'm wondering if I even should, with everything you say is getting in the way.  And you aren't acting or sounding okay.  When you came back to Earth yesterday, you'd been through something horrifically bad.  Forgot you'd been stabbed in the back bad.  Paranoia turned up, reliving things under cover, not all the way back yet bad.  I changed the subject to Hermes, then later botched my sleep-fuzzy attempt to help.  Partner, can you tell me what's wrong?  And how we might go about fixing the Oracle thing if you think it's interfering with you too much?  Because I can wait a little longer if I have to."       Journeyman laced his hands together behind his neck and shook his head.  "You're right that I'm not okay, but waiting isn't going to make it better.  I think bad shit would just keep happening.  And I know you hate incomplete answers, but I've told you as much as I can about what's wrong.  As for fixing things... I don't think there is any quick fix.  I put details in Database escrow just in case, but I sure don't want you going off on a rampage in another dimension because I suspect some of the inhabitants might be responsible for some of our problems."       "Then why bring it up?"       Journeyman smiled wearily.  "Doc's old rule:  Tell you what not to do clearly and first, because there may not be a chance for a 'wait, stop'.  And with the way things have been going..."       "Fair.  So you think we're just going to have to live for a while with incomplete information, bad luck, unfortunate misunderstandings, inconvenient interruptions, and so forth for everything we do together?"       "No."  He took a deep breath.  "We aren't going to live with it because we aren't going to be together."       "...Until?"       Journeyman spread his hands.  "Don't wait around."       Flicker stared at him with a hollow feeling in her stomach.  "What does that mean?"       He looked down, then back up at her.  "First:  You're 16.  I would not be okay with starting anything before you're 18.  Next:  Even if all the interference went away, I still couldn't be Make-Everything-Better Man for you," he said.  "I'm glad I was able to help you as your partner.  But it's not a healthy basis for a relationship.  And those aren't the only problems, but going through a list with the implication that the goal is to find a way around them all would be a bad idea.  Some of the issues are mine.  Getting together with you would not work, and I don't know when, if ever, that might change."  He shook his head.  "You have your own life.  You should feel free to grow, and learn, and become... whoever you're going to be.  And right now there's too much I can't tell you, you have too many good reasons to be angry with me, and I don't want to be used as a weapon against you."       Flicker stood, and looked over at the entrance to the server room.  "So you'll just blow everything up yourself.  It sounds like you want to drop our joint duty shifts, too?"       A pause.  "I wasn't kidding about the load-bearing thing.  At least for a while, I think they would just make things worse for both of us."       "Now that makes me angry.  I put a lot into our partnership, and trusted you to maintain it.  But okay.  It's not like you need your partner's backup anymore."       The hollow feeling had given way to the grim disgust of seeing a tangled mess she couldn't possibly have helped, because it was wrecked before she even started.  But it was best to be sure.  She sped up.       DASI?  Does Journeyman appear to be suffering from mental sabotage, mind control, or anything else relevant?       I do not have sufficient data to judge the soundness of his decision process, but his actions are consistent with his prior behavior.  He is showing signs of prolonged stress.  As are you.       Thanks.  I knew that last part already.       Amelioration measures are still in progress.  Please do not do anything precipitous.       Yeah, yeah.       She slowed back down and shook her head.  "I just don't understand your thinking.  Why even agree to our partnership, if you were going to do this?  And if your model of an attack on me is right, and not just a paranoid overreaction, why pull away... everything I thought we had, without even trying to help?"       "I do intend to try to help, after I spend a while recovering," he said.  "I'll stay in touch through the Database.  But first I need to see if I can track down some Diviners, because half the ones I know are indisposed or missing, and the other half are getting 'future not found' errors or disturbingly ambiguous signs of some sort of global catastrophe that may or may not be happening the day after tomorrow."       A sudden frown.  "You weren't planning on doing anything drastic to the planet that day, were you?"       "Not particularly.  I'm not even going to be on Earth for some of it."       "What."       "I'm going to the Moon to run Speedtest, finally.  Scheduled it with Doc this morning."       "Ah," said Journeyman, his face noticeably paler.  "I don't suppose you'd be willing to reschedule?"       "No.  As you said, I have my own life, and things to learn.  If you are seriously convinced some entity is actively trying to sabotage something specific that I've put off for too long already, tell me where they live, and I'll visit them with some physics.  Before catastrophe day.  Then you can find those other Diviners and see if the problem has cleared up or there is someone else who needs a visit.  An Oracle should be able to tell if their personal future is about to become very short, right?"       Journeyman looked down.  "I... don't think that's a good plan."       "Then maybe you should have raised your concerns before dumping your partner?"       "Priority interrupt," announced DASI from the wall speaker.  "A candidate psychological expert has been located."       Flicker sped up to read a summary on her visor.  It was good news that DASI had managed to identify and contact someone.  But she had conditions for her help and an unusual background...       Flicker puzzled over some of the details, then slowed down to frown at Journeyman.  "All right, if you really still want to help, the Database profile of this person is weird.  There seem to be rumors that she has some kind of magic resistance.   Have you ever heard of a Dr. Stella Reinhart?"

Next: Part 8

[swindlersstole]

7, 32, 42?

i really hate to do this to you right now because it’s Go Time but also. it’s Girl Time

32. hammock

Gemma was learning a lot of things about herself these days. Specifically, about herself and travelling, and the lesson of the day was this: she was not good with boats.

This was good to know for the future, because now, as the official first apprentice of the master merchant Derk (titles pending), she would be doing a lot of traveling, both with him and alone as his proxy. Traveling to Dundrasil now was exactly such a proxy service--Derk had been away from his wife for far too long, and Gemma had done such a remarkable job organizing Cobblestone’s repairs, that Derk insisted that she help oversee Dundrasil in his stead. 

Of course, even if he hadn’t asked, Nova had wanted her to come along for the exact same reason. It would be hard work, to be sure, far harder than their village, but Gemma would do anything for her best friend--and she couldn’t turn back from a challenge. The people of Cobblestone were resilient, perseverant, and did not give up, and Gemma was no exception.

The boat did not respect that resolve in the slightest.

Gemma rose from the table on unsteady feet, and Nova caught her before she could hit the floor. “Oh, crumbs…”

“Not a fan of the ocean, huh?” Nova laughed, very obviously worried.

“Ugh…” She pushed herself up off his shoulder, one hand holding her stomach. “It’s not your grandad’s boat on the river, that’s for sure.”

Sylvando leaned out from behind the partition of the galley, chin in his hands and a frown on his lips. “Oh, Gemma, honey, I’m so sorry! Everyone got their sea legs so quickly before. I didn’t even think about someone getting sea sick.”

“If memory serves, Sylv, we didn’t have much of a choice on the sea legs front.” Erik poked out from behind Sylvando; without Jade on board, he’d been tasked to help prep dinner in her stead, but he seemed ready to jump at the slightest inclination that Gemma needed another hand. “You gonna be alright there?”

“I’m going to hafta be, aren’t I?” Now standing straight and independent of Nova, Gemma forced a smile. “So, I’m a little green around the gills--it’s alright! Better I find out now than later. I’ll just… ask to go on foot next time! That’s possible, right?”

It wasn’t the most convincing bluff of her life, and whatever parts of it actually held up as believable were quickly dashed when her stomach lurched again, loud and clear and impossible to disguise as creaking floorboards. Gemma doubled over the table with a groan; Nova raised his arms ready to catch her again, and Erik leapt over the counter in a bolt, and the only thing that stopped them was her was the hand she held up.

She took a few deep breaths, and then stood tall, but much more pale. “I’m okay!”

“Oh, no, darling, you’re really not.” Sylvando had crossed into the dining cabin, hands on his hips. Gemma might not have known him for as long as Nova had, but she definitely understood right away why Nova had said he reminded him so much of his mother. “Now, you need to go take that pretty little face of yours to the sick bay and get some rest. Captain’s orders.” 

“But…” She looked between the three of them, somewhat helplessly. “What about dinner?”

“Honey,” Sylvando raised an eyebrow, “do you think you’re actually going to be able to eat anything right now?”

Gemma opened her mouth.

“Without throwing up.” Erik added.

Gemma closed her mouth.

“Please, Gemma,” Nova pleaded, “We need you at your best in Dundrasil, and I don’t want you catching something more serious because of this.”

Gemma wasn’t sure that seasickness was an open door for pneumonia, or shypox, or--well, actually, it was probably more of a prelude for shypox--but the point was, even after a near two decades of knowing him, she still hadn’t built up an immunity to Nova’s puppy-dog eyes. Which, she supposed was fair, he wasn’t very strong against hers, either, but this was a weakness that had worked against her time and again, and this was no exception. Gemma accepted defeat with a sigh and falling shoulders.

“...Fine, fine. You win,” She’d accepted her defeat, yes, but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. “I’m awful sorry, Sylvando, it smells lovely…!”

“Darling, I won’t hear of it!” Sylvando had a complete turnaround from his motherly insistence, clasping his hands together in delight. “This ship runs on happy faces, you know, but forcing a smile on someone isn’t how I do things. So, you go get lots of rest, and then you come back and show me the best smile you’ve got! Deal?”

“Deal,” Despite what he’d said, that did get a smile and a laugh out of Gemma--but, she knew she could do better, and a deal was a deal. She breathed in deep, and steeled herself for the brief trek ahead, turning towards the door to the deck.

As she walked, Nova turned to Erik. “I’ll go with her to be safe. I won’t be too long, just a--”

“Ohhh, no you don’t!” 

It didn’t matter how ill she was, nothing could have stopped Gemma from turning on her heel and stomping back to Nova, just to stick the scolding; he jolted back from her shift in mood. “You’ll be up all night worrying about me if you do that, and then what are we going to get done in Dundrasil? Maybe I have to skip a meal tonight, but that’s not an excuse for you to, Nova. You’re so much more worse about taking care of yourself than I am.”

“Gemma, you’re over exaggerating,” Except she wasn’t, and everyone present knew that, but Nova persisted. “It really wouldn’t be that bad if I--”

“Ah-bup-bup!” She raised a finger to his mouth, effectively shushing him, before turning to Erik. “Erik, you have to make sure he stays put while I’m out. Feed him yourself, if you have to. He had a dream about it once. I read his journal.”

Nova’s face erupted in red. Sylvando cackled. And Erik brought a hand to his chin with a devious smile. “Oh, he did, now?”

“He’s a gentle, romantic soul, you know,” Gemma returned the smile despite her weariness, saccharine sweet and sly, “So I’m trusting you to do whatever you have to do to make sure Nova won’t leave to check on me--or even want to.”

“Ooh, Gemma!” Sylvando howled with laughter, slapping a hand on the dining table. “You naughty little thing, you, I love your style!”

Nova opened his mouth to object, to Gemma, to Sylvando, to anybody who could understand his sputtering, but whatever words he had turned into a gasp and a jolt when emerald-clad arms wrapped around his waist. Erik laid his chin on Nova’s shoulder, and looked to Gemma, all too proud like the cat that ate the canary.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” He sounded far too enthusiastic about this allowance, and it made Nova groan and hide his face in his hands, “I won’t let you down~”

“...You know,” Nova said at last, after the resounding ‘clap!’ of Erik and Gemma’s high-five had faded, “there was this… a good ten minutes, when I was so happy you two became friends? I would love to live in those ten minutes again right now.”

~

Gemma found her way to the infirmary cabin without much difficulty. Once she was on her feet and moving, it was fairly easy to find a rhythm that could deter the rocking of the boat, and she reached her destination with little stumbling.

The sick bay itself looked not much different from the regular cabins. It was certainly bigger, to accommodate all the beds needed for an infirmary, but much of the room for closets and bookshelves replaced with a good deal of cabinets for medicines and herbs. She thought about taking an herb for herself, to see if it would ease the pain, but decided against it; if it was that easy, Nova would have just used magic in the first place, and that would have been that.

Interestingly enough though, Gemma noted, was the hammock strung up near one of the windows--at least, she thought it was a hammock, she’d never seen one shaped like a box before, but there wasn’t much else she could think it to be--which struck her as a bit odd, considering. A hammock on a ship wasn’t a strange mental picture, but in a sick bay, it seemed more… counterproductive, to the seasickness problem. Not that seasickness was the only reason to go to a sick bay but--

A loud churn from her stomach cut off her string of thoughts, and Gemma crumpled over onto the nearest bed with a whine. The more she thought about being sick, the worse it was going to get, and she wasn’t about to spew and make a nuisance of herself on Nova’s account. And that was a worry that was already eating at her appetite enough without the ocean’s help, thank you very much.

Gemma shuddered miserably at the thought, and when her stomach had stilled once more, she kicked off her boots and tucked herself under the blankets, waiting to slip away into troubled sleep.

~

A knock at the door roused Gemma with a groan. She glanced at the window, and grumbled when she saw the sun setting above her, turning her back to the door, and tugging her headscarf over her eyes. “Novaaa, go to dinner…!”

“Oh no, he’s there!” came a voice that was very much not Nova’s, “I brought you something to eat, Gemma.”

It took a moment for Gemma’s groggy mind to fully recognize the voice, but when she did, she rose out of bed slowly from surprise; her headscarf fell around her neck. “...Serena?”

Serena came in at the sound of her name, all smiles and polka dots--she was in that pretty red dress that Gemma had complimented to no end (and that Nova had said he’d made her, and that Gemma could still not believe that Nova had made with his own, human hands), carrying a tray of bread and mugs along with her. She reminded Gemma in that instant of the old picture books her grandad would read to her when she was little, of milkmaids and farmhands living happily in the flower fields of Zwaardsrust before heading off on a grand adventure; all Serena needed was her hair in braids.

Well. Not really, actually, Gemma thought, because then Serena would look too much like Veronica, and she rather liked Serena the way she was.

“Oh, my! You’re looking much better already,” And if such a profound healer like Serena was saying that, Gemma supposed it had to be true, “Do you think you’re well enough to eat something?”

Good question, actually--Gemma supposed she was feeling a bit peckish now. “I… maybe? Is that a good idea for me?”

“As long as it’s nothing too heavy, yes.” Serena closed the door behind her with her back before entering the room in full, setting the tray she’d brought on a nearby table. “Some fresh, warm bread ought to do you good. And ginger ale will do wonders for nausea!”

The scent of the bread wafted through the room. That was one of Gemma’s favorite smells in the world, and her stomach made a noise again--but this time, it was an honest to goodness growl, and she was too relieved that it was a normal sound to be embarrassed that Serena heard it. Then Serena giggled her sweet giggle, and Gemma felt just a smidgen of embarrassment, but not enough to deter her from food.

“That sounds... really good, actually,” Gemma stood up from the bed, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and made her way to the table with care. “Did you bring all this for me, Serena?”

“I did!” Serena waited until Gemma had sat down before doing the same. “Although… I was hoping if I could join you, if that was alright. I couldn’t eat much of dinner tonight.”

“Oh, no! Ah, I mean--of course you can stay, but did you get queasy, too?”

“No, not quite,” Serena waved aside the worry bashfully, and reached for the bread; she cut a generous slice for Gemma before serving herself. “There was cabbage in some of the servings. I’m allergic.”

“Oof, that’s a rough one,” Gemma nodded in sympathy as she reached for the butter, “My grandma? She’s got a little onion allergy. Refuses not to eat it, though, so it makes cooking a right nightmare sometimes.”

“Gosh, I can imagine!” Serena covered her mouth while she chewed, soft and dainty, like a pretty princess Gemma had dreamed up long ago. “You’d have to substitute it, I’d imagine?”

“Oh, of course--but Grandmum’s so stubborn about it, y’see, so we have to be careful with switching things around so she doesn’t see. Nova’s had to sneak me fennel from him and his mum more times than I can count,” And speaking of, actually... “You know, I’m surprised Nova didn’t come with you!”

“Ah ha, well! He tried to, bless him,” And Serena laughed behind her hand, and that princess Gemma had dreamed up seemed more and more to come to life, “But we all know what he’s like when he gets worried. Nobody was having it when he said he wanted to come with! Erik had gone far enough to sit in his lap to feed him by hand so I could leave alone.”

Gemma squeaked, and put down her mug before she could take a drink and choke on her laughter. “Crikey, I didn’t think he’d actually do it!”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Oh--I was teasin’ Nova, before I got here. Told a little fib about reading his diary. And I said to Erik, if he tried to follow me, to do whatever he had to to stop ‘im,” Gemma raised her mug again, and grinned around the rim. “Might’ve given him a few ideas on how to do that.”

Serena’s eyes went wide as dinner plates, her cheeks tinged pink, but she soon fell into a fit of laughter--a bit more boisterous than her giggles, Gemma noted, but no less elegant and lovely. “Goodness, I wish I’d known it was that easy! Veronica teases him sometimes, too, but he always seems to shake it off. I didn’t think anything could get under his skin! You must have a gift for speaking ‘Nova’, Gemma.”

“Aw, it’s nothing special, really,” Gemma tugged off her headscarf and fiddled with it in her lap just the slightest bit shy, “I’ve just known him a long time, is all. I know what buttons to press.”

She wasn’t sure she could keep talking about herself, with Serena praising her so genuinely for something so small. She had to shift the topic. “But, you said Veronica’s tried? What’s she done before?”

“Oh! So,” Serena set down her mug, and her hands fluttered to life, a story on her lips and fingertips, “there was this one time, I remember quite clearly--we were visiting Gallopolis, and it was a particularly dry day—Veronica made a joke about Nova’s hair, and how he must use an army’s worth of conditioner?”

Gemma hummed, already understanding where this was going. “And he had no idea what she was talking about, right?”

“We were floored! Erik looked like he was about to lose his mind when he said that. I wouldn’t be surprised at this point if you told me he’s never used a brush in his life.”

“Oh, he wouldn’t get away with that one, not if his mum had anything to say about it,” Gemma shrugged, clearly faking exasperation, “Dumb boys, right? What can ya do?”

“Not very much at all!” Serena laughed again, and it struck Gemma now that Serena’s laughter was so striking to her because it sounded like a melody--a sweet, simple song that made Gemma fall into laughter too, and into a gentle, easy evening gossiping with her new friend.

~

They talked late into the night, much later than Gemma had realized, but not enough to make it urgent. Serena had a calming aura about her, which was something she’d always known since meeting her, but her voice had such a timber to it that all of Gemma’s earlier troubles were forgotten. 

They swapped stories, about nothing, about everything. Gemma talked about Cobblestone, about growing up with Nova (“I can’t tell you the real embarrassing stories, he found out I told Erik about when he put the slimedrop in his hair and he’s still mad about it,”), about how she wanted to go into the clothing business, and how some of the other kids thought she was odd for liking math so much. Serena responded in turn with stories of Arboria, about her and Veronica’s misadventures (“Oh, I was so hungry, Gemma, you have to understand, I was desperate to get out of studying! And the page had a picture of an herb on it, and I just--”), about all her favorite books and songs and plays, and, “I would be happy to loan you something, I have some books I think you’d rather like!”. 

And Gemma was sure she would like them, but hearing Serena tell her about those stories instead was fulfilling in its own way. She was such a gifted storyteller--Gemma could have listened to her forever.

She might have very well done just that, the way they were going; Serena was just finishing up an explanation on the musical complexity and range of Graham Globe when Gemma yawned, much louder and longer than she’d meant to. She clamped a hand over her mouth in shock, and it took her a moment before she could meet Serena’s worried gaze.

“Oh, gosh,” Gemma felt her cheeks burn. If it had been Nova, she wouldn’t have been nearly as embarrassed (he’d seen much worse with nary a blink as a response), but she couldn’t stand the idea of Serena having seen that, “Serena, I’m so sorry! I’m not bored, or anything, I promise.”

“No, no! You’re perfectly fine, Gemma,” Serena took it all with grace, as Gemma must have imagined she did with everything, “If anything, it’s my mistake. I didn’t even realize how late I’ve been keeping you.”

“‘Late’? But it’s not…” Gemma’s point was lost as soon as she turned to the window and was met with the dark, night sky. “Oh! Well, what do you know?”

“The lamp’s almost out of oil, too,” Serena noted, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“I’ll say,” Gemma wasn’t about to comment on how happy she was to hear that Serena had fun talking with her, there were bigger concerns at hand, “Should you be getting to bed, Serena?”

“Hmm… oh, probably,” She sounded disheartened by the idea. How odd, “but I would hate to leave if you’re still unwell.”

Oh. That was right! She was seasick! That’s why they were here! Gemma had all but forgotten about it, though now that Serena brought it up, she was conscious of the dull ache slowly growing again in her stomach--not painful, yet, but present.

“Well…” Gemma placed a hand over her stomach, brows furrowed, “We dropped anchor already, didn’t we? I don’t think it can’t get much worse until we start moving again.”

“No, you’re right,” Serena admitted, “I suppose I’m just being a bit of a worrywart… but, since we’re talking about it? I wanted to ask you something, Gemma.”

“Yes? What is it?”

Serena reached forward, tentatively, curiously, and picked up one corner of the blanket around Gemma’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you lay down in the hammock?”

“Uh--” Her sudden forwardness stunned Gemma into silence, and it took a moment for her to collect her thoughts. “I--it didn’t seem like the best idea, you know? If all this rocking is what’s making me sick, then more of it would just make it worse, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, no! Quite the opposite, actually.” Serena clapped her hands together; her expression was still no less concerned, but her eyes sparkled with knowledge she was more than happy to share. “Sea sickness is just motion sickness. Laying in a hammock helps cancel out the movement of the boat, so you should have a much easier time sleeping in one than a bed.”

“Ah--no kidding!” So much for the hammock being a weird addition to the room. She wished Sylvando had mentioned that earlier. “You think that I should…?”

Serena, ever the dedicated healer, nodded assuredly. “With how out of sorts you were, I don’t think it would hurt.” 

“Well… I guess you know best. Gosh, I hope it’s as comfy as the bed was,” Gemma fiddled with her scarf in her lap, laughing a touch awkwardly to herself, “Definitely won’t be as easy getting in, that’s for sure. Never was too good getting settled in a hammock.”

“No?”

“No, but… hm. I guess I might’ve been just too little, then? I could never get in one without… oh.”

Gemma stopped. 

“...O-Oh.” Oh.

Something… struck her, just then. She’d been sharing so many stories tonight so haphazardly, she’d barely given it much thought, but now that she was giving them thought, the dull ache in her stomach began to grow into a pounding intensity--the strongest it had been all night. She doubled over, wincing and whining and clutching onto her abdomen, and all too suddenly, she felt far too small.

“Gemma!” Serena was upon her in an instant; she’d barely let a gasp escape her before she began to reach out. “Gemma, what’s wrong? Is your seasickness back?”

But Gemma shook her bowed head, quietly denying the hands that came to her aid. 

“Gemma…?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Gemma spoke quickly, and pained, trembling in voice and body, “I couldn’t do it without Nova’s help.”

The confession alone made Gemma run cold. She’d agreed to this trip--to work in Derk’s stead, to organize the reconstruction of a kingdom she’d only seen in storybooks, to help her friend when he called on her--to make a point to herself. To prove to herself that she could stand on her own two feet, without relying on Nova all the time. Gemma had grown dependent on him, and complacent, she could admit that now, and such a thing wasn’t fair to her or him.

She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t bitter. They would always be best friends, Gemma always in his heart, and Nova always in hers, but Nova wouldn’t always be right next to her to catch her when she stumbled. She had to learn. She had to get better, but she’d already caused Nova so much trouble and worry with just a stomach ache--and now here she was, being a nuisance to Serena, too. Serena, who was so soft and gentle and impossibly lovely, who said her name so sweetly, who had only ever shown her kindness since they met that night in Heliodor, and Gemma couldn’t understand why, but it didn’t matter. A burden was still a burden.

She didn’t think her heart could bear much more of this.

“Gemma.”

Serena’s hands were warm over her own, pulling them away from her stomach, and Gemma realized just how badly she was shaking. And when she finally made herself meet Serena’s gaze, she found that Serena was looking at her with soft, gentle, almost revering eyes, and any response Gemma could have made was gone before it saw the light of day.

“...You know,” Serena started, “you and Nova are very much alike. You both think far too loud.”

Gemma sniffled, and pulled away one hand to rub at her eyes. “W-What do you mean?”

“You’re both rather hard on yourselves. You both take on so much, on your own, because you think that you have to do it on your own. And… to be fair, that might be true, for some things. But certainly not everything, and I think that ends up forgotten along the way.”

Serena paused, breathing in deep. Gemma couldn’t think of a time she’d ever seen her so serious. “Nova’s gotten better about it. He has a lot of help from a lot of people...plenty of people who are happy to remind him that he doesn’t have to do everything by himself. But, Gemma… I’m not sure if anyone has ever told you that.” 

She swallowed. “So. I’m going to.”

Gemma felt her shoulders tense, and her cheeks burned in the dimming lamplight. Her lips parted, as if to speak, but so in shock, she didn’t dare interrupt Serena now.

“I… I think you’re very amazing,” Serena said, “If I try to put myself in your shoes, I’m not sure I could do what you do. You’re a much braver and more resourceful person than I think you’re giving yourself credit for, Gemma. And I really mean that.”

And she really did, Gemma could tell, but she didn’t think she’d ever know why.

“So… please, don’t be disheartened. We can’t make it on our own--we need other people to help us, and they need us the same. Asking for help isn’t a crime, Gemma. It’s in our nature. It’s what makes us human.”

Serena bit her cheek. Her thumb ran circles around Gemma’s knuckles.

“...I wish I could make it better for you, just saying that, but… we both know I can’t. It’s a deeper problem that magic and words just can’t fix. But if nothing else… you should know I’m here for you. And I’ll help you in any way I can. If you can’t turn to everyone yet, please know you can turn to me.”

Gemma swallowed, but she nodded a grateful nod, and subconsciously squeezed Serena’s hands. She really did know, Gemma thought, she understood, and the world didn’t feel so lonesome anymore.

“...Thank you, Serena,” she sniffled out her thanks, but Gemma managed a tiny, grateful smile, if only for a second, “I’m… sorry, you had to see all that. I was planning to talk to Nova about it all, I swear…”

“Please, don’t be sorry, Gemma--I truly did mean what I said,” Serena patted her hands consolingly, “We’re all companions here, remember? And that means you and I, too.”

Companions. Right. The word alone alleviated some of the pain in her stomach; in retrospect, it figured that Gemma would stress herself sick. But it had been reassuring beyond measure for Serena to say that regardless. Nova would never tell her if she was causing trouble, so he was an unreliable opinion, but Serena had no previous attachment or ulterior motives to lie. 

If Serena said she wasn’t a bother, then Gemma could finally, slowly but surely, start to believe it.

“Now then,” Serena stood from her chair, her hand still holding Gemma’s, pulling her up with her, “let’s go and get you all settled, shall we? I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found a warm bed the best comfort after a good cry.”

She bent down a moment, to pick up the blanket that had fallen off Gemma’s shoulders, and wrapped it back around her. Gemma watched her, stunned, but vacantly grabbed at the blanket’s edges and tugged them over her chest. Satisfied with this, Serena gave her an affirming nod and smile, and stepped around her to prepare the hammock, and she watched her go, a thousand thoughts spinning in her mind, and suddenly-- 

“Serena?”

Serena stopped. “Hm?”

“Could I ask… would you stay with me? If it’s… not a trouble to you,” Gemma fidgeted with the blanket, burying her face in the fabric, “I--I’m feeling better, really, but I… I’m not sure I can be alone, right now.”

Goodness. Asking for help did ease some more of her aches, but it did nothing for how embarrassing such a thing was to say out loud. It wasn’t as though Serena hadn’t made… something of an offer like that herself earlier, but that had been before she’d seen first hand how needy Gemma could be. It felt silly of her, to bank on Serena’s support so soon after she’d made it known.

“It would be my pleasure.”

But Serena, voice tender and delighted and relieved, answered her as clear as day, as easy as breathing, and a part of Gemma had to wonder why she’d been worried in the first place.

~

As promised, Serena helped Gemma in first.

The hammock was snug, to say the least. Gemma wasn’t sure if that was because it was meant for only one person, or because she and Serena were just too big. Distantly, she remembered those warm autumn days where she and Nova and Sandy would nap in her grandfather’s hammock, but they’d only been children, then, and Sandy still a puppy; a part of her wondered if this hammock might fall over like Grandad’s did, too, when Sandy jumped on it fully grown.

But Serena climbed over the edge and settled in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist like they’d done this a thousand times before, and Gemma pushed the thought away, because that was then and this was now, and now felt much more important to address.

Their legs brushed together, and Gemma jumped from the contact. “Ah! Sorry—“ It was unavoidable, but Serena was so warm and soft the brief touch made her heart race.

Serena whispered a laugh, and her smile illuminated by the moonlight made Gemma’s heart race even faster. 

“It’s alright,” she explained, hushed, “I’ve done this before. Veronica--she never got seasick before, but when she shrunk, it changed her center of gravity. The first few nights we were at sea, I stayed with her here like this.”

“O-Oh,” said Gemma, unable to parse if that actually did set her at ease or not, “was it... easier with her?”

“Easy or not doesn’t matter,” Serena answered, “I just want to protect what’s important to me.”

Something about hearing that made Gemma let go of a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding, and as her mind and lungs reeled, Serena raised her hand to the back of Gemma’s head, stroking her hair idly. She hadn’t realized until now, with her head near tucked under her chin, how much taller than her Serena was--or perhaps, Gemma was projecting confidence onto stature. It wouldn’t be the first time; Erik still refused to tell her his real height because her (apparently wildly incorrect) guess had fed his ego far too much.

“Shh--don’t overthink it,” Serena’s voice grew softer, more soothing than it already was, and Gemma felt her muscles start to lax from that alone, “Just feel. Let yourself relax. I’ve got you.”

Gemma had heard stories of mermaids before, and about how their songs could hypnotize even the most fearsome of sailors the seas had ever seen. Nova had explained that those stories of sirens were greatly exaggerated, but listening to Serena talk, and feeling the way her body gave in to her every kind request, she had to wonder if that was really the case. 

Serena had told her to relax, and she did. Serena had said that she had her, and Gemma felt beyond secure. She let her eyes close, to fully immerse herself in the feeling; the scent of a bakery was on Serena’s skin, and a hum buzzed delicately from behind her lips, and Gemma thought--

No. Don’t think. Just feel. And what she felt was...

“...Serena?”

“Yes?”

Gemma nuzzled herself closer to Serena’s chest, as close as she could dare. If she concentrated, she swore she could hear Serena’s heart beat like the beat of a drum, in perfect tune with her voice. “I think you’re amazing, too.”

Serena stilled against her, and for a second, Gemma worried that she’d gone too far, but she was pulled into a tight, warm hug, and the worry ebbed away with the quiet lull of waves. 

~~~

“Knock-knock, get the door, it’s Erik.”

Serena looked away from the window--she’d been watching the clouds roll by the rising sun as Gemma slept--and craned her neck towards the door with a smile. “Quiet now, it’s Serena.”

It took a moment of fumbling with the handle before Erik opened the door just a crack, slipping in without so much as a creak. From Serena’s angle, he looked like he’d just woken up, still in his pyjamas and hair more wild and askew than usual. It must have been earlier than she’d thought; Erik was usually one of the first awake, and he put enough care into his appearance to be dressed before anyone could see him this disheveled.

He closed the door behind him with a soft ‘click’, then turned to her with a knowing grin. “How’d I know,” he whispered.

Serena smiled at him, and there was an underlying air of mischief in her smile that she knew he would pick up on, and she whispered back, “Oh, you knew, did you?”

“Not exactly, but I had a pretty good feeling,” Erik shook his head with a sigh, but he wasn’t trying at all to hide his amusement as he made his way over, “Leave it to you to vanish for the night, and then be found cuddling a cute girl.”

“Well, that was just a pleasant surprise. But you and I have always had similar priorities, Erik,” She spoke wisely, knowing full well that she was correct, “I’m impressed Nova let go of you long enough for you to make it here.”

“It’s never easy. Despite what dinner would have you think, he’s incredibly clingy.”

“And it’s great?”

“The best,” He peered over the hammock to look at Gemma, still nestled up underneath Serena’s chin, “Seriously, though. Is she doing alright?”

“Mmn. Much better now,” Serena fiddled with the ends of Gemma hair between her fingers, “I think she was just anxious, is all.”

“That’s seeming more and more like a Cobblestone standard every day. Not that I can blame them.”

“It’s a good thing we’re here for them then, isn’t it?”

Gemma sighed in her sleep, and the two of them fell silent, but it quickly proved to be a false alarm; instead of waking up, she burrowed herself further into the blanket, and into Serena’s arms. Serena beamed at the sight.

“Man,” Erik whispered with a roll of his eyes, “and here I thought I had it bad.”

“You did,” Serena didn’t look up, “You had it worse.”

“Details,” he nudged Serena on the head with one knuckle, drawing her back to look at him, “I’m gonna go get dressed. I’d say you have another two or three hours before breakfast happens.”

“How long before Nova comes to check on her?”

“If we play our cards right? Hopefully he’ll sleep till midday,” Erik raised his fist above her, “I’ll keep him in bed long as I can.”

Serena raised her first in turn, bumping it quietly against Erik’s. “You’ll succeed.”

“Not unless I want to eat, too. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“And thank you for yours.”

Erik pulled back, his fist becoming a two-fingered salute, and he stepped away as quietly as he came. The door opened and shut again with barely a sound, and soon enough, the only sound remaining was the quiet crash of waves against the boat, and Gemma’s soft, peaceful breathing.

Serena had to watch her while she slept--to watch the way her lashes fluttered and chest rose and fell, to watch the subtle puff of her cheeks and the way her lips puckered ever so slightly, and Serena had no other option but to smile at the sight. 

She already knew that Gemma was amazing, for a multitude of reasons both said and unsaid, and had long since thought that--but it was always nice to see those facts take shape.

[flvghtlessbvrds]

⧼ willa fitzgerald, cis!female, she/her / circle game by p!nk + flowers growing where they shouldn’t, neat planners, the comfort of being with family ⧽ ━━ let me tell you a thing or two about HALEY LAUREL LANCE QUEEN. the TWENTY-SIX year old daughter of OLIVER QUEEN & DINAH LANCE is a TA of ETHICS & MUSIC at paragon academy, and has sometimes been referred to as THE FINAL GIRL. they’ve always seemed very PERSEVERANT & IDEALISTIC, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty JUDGEMENTAL & BLUNT, too. it’s common knowledge that they have the power of the CANARY CRY; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh?

tw: injury

BIO:

Haley Laurel Lance-Queen was an accident. Ollie and Dinah had never had the most stable relationship and so they did not even know that Dinah was pregnant until she was badly injured when a mission went sideways and she wound up in a hospital room.

At this point the foetus was already quite badly damaged and it was made clear to Ollie and Dinah that the baby would likely not survive to term, and if it did then it would likely be severely impaired.

Against all odds Haley was born four weeks prematurely, and even more surprisingly that tiny baby lived despite all the odds stacked against her.

She was named after her godfather Hal Jordan who would go on to play an incredibly large role in her life.

Such a traumatic birth however did leave it’s scars. Haley is disabled having a condition called CEREBRAL PALSY meaning that her amount of movement she has in her legs was severely impaired, what little amount of walking she can do is incredibly painful, she’s been going to therapy to try to improve it.

You would think that Haley being born would have had a massive impact on Ollie and Dinah’s lives, that they would have gotten their act together. This did happen for a while but it wasn’t long before things fell apart again.

Her childhood was frustrating, as she never got to do a lot of the things her younger siblings got to enjoy, it was hard for her to even get up in the morning never mind learning martial arts or how to manage her powers.

As she got older however she grew more determined to win rather than lose. She practiced archery until her fingers burned, learnt how to do martial arts in her chair, until she was as good a fighter as her siblings, albeit with a few restrictions.

As a teenager Hals spent was very much a loner. She had to learn to fend for herself and be comfortable in her own company while Ollie and Dinah were busy being Ollie and Dinah. Something that culminated with Nora going to boarding school. Haley was around seventeen when she learnt she was better simply expecting nothing from her parents, although they both tried their best.

On the whole her unstable childhood, and not so great relationships as a teenager lead her to the belief that everybody leaves, with the exception of her siblings who she sees as her responsibility, it’s a viewpoint she hasn’t been able to shake even now.

At the age of nineteen she really didn’t know who she wanted to be, but at the age of twenty two she had become a TA at Paragon Academy, mainly to keep an eye on her siblings but she also found that she quite enjoyed teaching. Even if she’s a fan of the tough love approach in a lot of cases.

NOW:

Hals has been a TA for five years now and at this point and feels like she’s seen it all. as always her focus is on looking after nora and her students but i can also see her being drawn into the chaos if she gets a chance. chair or no chair she’s never really been one to sit back passively.

FACTS:

She’s a singer. There’s a small cafe in town were she sings sometimes but it’s something Hals likes to keep to herself.

Despite how much she’s tried to distance herself from the man she does have quite a few traits from Oliver; wanderlust, passion, impatience there are plenty of ways you could call her her father’s daughter.

Hals is a big plant lover (her succulent collection is impressive), she has a polaroid camera that roy gifted her for her twentieth birthday which she only trusts about three people with, and she keeps a planner almost obsessively.

CONNECTIONS:

OLIVER QUEEN: father // sperm donor // frustration :: Despite what the above might lead you to believe Haley does not hate her father rather instead it is the opposite. When she was a child she idolised him, it was just when she got older she became less and less blind to the mistakes he seems to make over and over again. she’s come to the conclusion that she doesn’t need him, but at the same time she knows if she needed her that she’d be there in second to help him clear up his mess.

DINAH LANCE: mother // idol :: When she was younger haley wanted nothing more than to be just like her mother from the jacket to the singing. she makes up a big part of of haley’s personality. even now the distance between them isn’t quite as large as between haley and ollie. she still blames both of them for leaving and what happened to both of her siblings but she had far more sympathy for Dinah than she’ll ever have for ollie and tries to keep her in the picture where she can.

HAL JORDAN: godfather // parental figure :: Hal is haley’s godparent, but really she classes him as a second father. He wasn’t around too much when she was a kid, he couldn’t have been thanks to the lantern ring he wears, but whenever he was he made sure to make a fuss of her, even now she makes sure to check in with him every once and a while.

NORA LANCE-QUEEN: little sister :: Haley has always adored her younger sister. Their age gap large enough that she also wanted to be someone she could lean on. Their relationship was not however always the best, Nora took great pleasure in the socialite lifestyle while haley herself had always tried to steer away from it. Then the incident happened and Nora was hurled into this whole other world and as much as Hals tried to be there for her sister another wedge was forced in between them. They’re in the same place now but things are still a little disjointed compared to before.

CLINT BARTON:  understanding adult :: A disabled superhero isn’t that cool ?? teenage Hals certainly thinks so. The two of them have a very interesting dynamic in that they bonded over nothing more than arrows and now she turns up at his office with pizza every so often needing to vent.

EMMA FROST & SCOTT SUMMERS: teachers she works with :: despite her natural talent for music it’s ethics that Haley really has the passion to teach. as a result she has an enormous amount of respect for both Emma and Scott even if she tries to stay out of the way of their personal lives (even if she thinks they should get back together).

WANTED CONNECTION:

summer love: mamma mia style no strings attached romance? sign me up

more students: she’s a good teacher i swear

a girl squad: girls supporting girls whats not to love

all the friendships: (the more unlikely the better)

a disability support group thingy: idk but they’re around all these extra able people i bet it can be a lot

people from her past: (exes, once friends etc) just angst in general ok guys because hals really isn’t perfect

people she can look up to

league kids she feels responisble for

ta squad maybe???

[msbeccieboo]

Arrow 7x20 Brain Dump

I liked this week’s offering!! We got our little ninja Roy back!! Like last week, however, it felt out of place in the season, where was this goodness when we were still mucking about with the Dragon nonsense mid-season?? For me it was lacking in Oliver, and sorely missing Olicity scenes, given our finite time 😭, but was still a good episode overall! I liked how the team transpired to be working as a true unit, for once (only after some persuading from Oliver)! In fact, it was so hard to break up the episode this week, as it was such a team-focused story.

Episode Summary

We had some serious Agatha Christie vibes going on, the story told in a classic whodunnit style. The bulk of the plot was told through flashback *cue sepia* and was interspersed with Dinah interrogating the team one by one in real time.  The fact that the officer was killed using lead piping also tickled me a lot 😂.

The show opens with Dinah and Sergeant Bingsley arriving at a crime scene with the bodies of 2 subway guards. It then cuts to them questioning the first of ‘the suspects’, who turns out to be none other than…Oliver Queen!  Dun dun duuuuunn!!! Oliver denies killing the officers, saying that Team Arrow actually stopped a terrorist attack by Emiko and the Ninth Circle. After questioning Oliver, we realise that besides Team Arrow, there was also someone else there at the scene…ROY HARPER!!!

By flashback, we realise that the team discovered that the Ninth Circle intended on using the bioweapon we saw last week to ‘destroy the city’ or something like that (I can’t say I was 100% on the ball with the backstory this week guys 😂😂). In order to deal with this threat, they call in our favourite parkouring ninja street fighter ROY!!!!!

Source: arsenalroy

Continued below the cut

Dinah and Bingsley (ugh, I hate him) interview all of the team, including Roy, during the course of the episode as we see the story unfold. It appears as if Dinah had no involvement in the operation and is looking to put one of the team away for the murders, but in a somewhat predictable ‘twist’, it is revealed that she was there as the Black Canary for the whole thing, and so is still a suspect herself!

Source: lucyyh 💗

Back in the sepia times, we see the team, including Felicity and now also Dinah, move in to stop the threat, eventually all separating off, as we hear the guards’ defensive shots, and see all of them reacting in turn (I really liked this part…so dramatic!). We then see my sweet baby Roy, battering the guards with the lead piping in a violent rage. Oliver manages to drag him away, horrified and covered in blood, but it is too late, the guards are dead, and everyone looks to Oliver to decide what to do next.

Back at the lair, Oliver realises that Roy has pit-rage, asking him “how did you die” (that murdered me😭). Nyssa had administered the lotus elixir to cure him, but they think his previous exposure to Mirakuru somehow stopped the rage from killing him, but let the rage remain to an extent. This somewhat explained why he doesn’t go into a coma whilst marooned on Lian Yu for 20 years, with noone to kill. Oliver tells Roy, and the others, that Roy is part of the Team and they will cover for him, and thus all the interrogations etc. are explained.

At the end of the Episode, Oliver finally confronts Emiko at the Ninth Circle’s base. Emiko drops the figurative and literal bombshell on Oliver that she knowingly sent Robert off to his death, then proceeds to blow up the building they are in, leaving Oliver trapped under cement blocks and rebar ALL THE REBAR!!  THE TOMMY FEELS GUYS I CAN’T EVEN 😭😭😭

Source: olicitygifs

To be continued 😱😱😱…. 

Olicity

What even is an Olicity? We got next to nothing this week, no glorious episode 20 sexy times, no conversation, no Olicity-only scenes, no kiss, no hug😡. We got a couple of cute touchy moments but that was it. Bitter, you ask? Fuck yes, I am! Hopefully we can make up for this with some hurt/comfort next week, but anyway, let’s look at some pretty!

Source: lucyyh 💗

Source: feilcityqueen

Felicity

Felicity Megan Smoak was a dream in this episode. Start to finish. Fabulous! Would I have liked to have seen more of her? Hell to the yes, she was for sure underused in this episode, but what we did get was perfection!!! Her adorable reunion with Roy, barging past Oliver to attack hug him 😂😂

Source: feilcityqueen

Her whole babble about her emotions was hilarious; “Nerves of Steel. You know me. I’m cool.” How no one else guessed she’s pregnant I will never know, but Roy did kinda raise his eyebrows, so my head canon says he guessed, until they tell me otherwise!

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Felicity dragging Dinah during her own interrogation was beautiful! From her pointed nonchalance at the entire situation, all whilst eating a sandwich and asking for cake (god I love her so much), to her constant corrections, to “Oh, you mean when Diaz kidnapped Roy to try to turn him against Oliver? You might have forgotten about that since you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Oliver and I at the time” YAAAASSSS burn herrrrr!!!!!

Source: seeing-red-arrow

I loved that we saw her in the field again, side-by-side with her original and new team mates. I’m so pleased that even though we didn’t get a heap of Felicity, they really used her as much as the style of the episode permitted.

Bonus one-liners:

“That’s a no on the evil sister redeeming herself then”

“Roy is incredible at parkour” 

😂😂😂

Oliver

We really needed more Oliver in this episode. The storyline should be ramping up and focusing in on Oliver (and the core characters) at this point in the season, and Oliver was in the episode for no more than anyone else, really.

Source: olicitygifs

His highlights for me, beyond a doubt, were his interactions with Roy. I missed this relationship so much!! In many ways, Roy was Oliver (and Felicity’s) first child. He brought Roy into this life, he helped to guide him, to nurture his existing abilities and passed on skills that he had learned. He saved Roy from himself and The Glades, and in return Roy saved Oliver right back, giving him back a part of his humanity that Oliver had long thought lost back in the dark days of seasons 1 and 2, and literally saving him from a life sentence in S3. These men became family not through Thea, but through their bond within Team Arrow.

Oliver didn’t hesitate for a second to declare “we have to protect him”, when they found Roy killing the guards. He knew right away about the pit, defending him against Rene and Dinah when they didn’t want to cover for him at first (shocker), telling them they didn’t understand what he’d been through, that “Roy is and always will be as much a part of this team as the rest of us” and reiterating that “if someone on this team goes down, this entire team goes down.” When he speaks to Roy about what happened, Roy doesn’t initially want to ask for Oliver’s help, but Oliver simply tells him “you never have to ask me, ever”. Ugh I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!

Source: smoakmonster

Something also finally seemed to click for Oliver this week, that he could not help Emiko, that she needs taking into custody. I loved his words to Rene “at a certain point, people need to take responsibility for their actions”, YES MY LOVE!!! I can’t wait to see how he reacts to Emiko next week and in the finale, now that he realises how far gone she is, and that she effectively set him on this path 12 years ago, killing their father, and sentencing Oliver to his time on the island etc.

Source: olivergifs

Dig

Dig was criminally underused in this episode. He had barely any interactions with Roy, despite their history, his interrogation was super brief, and we barely saw him in the field. DO BETTER WRITERS! We’re running out of OTA time!!

Source: feilcityqueen

Roy

ARSENAL IS BACK BITCHES!!! I love Roy Harper. Always have, always will. Sooo glad to see him in the current timeline! He looked so happy to be back with his family too! I’m glad that they explained Thea’s absence (they called for Roy specifically) and talked about how she was doing. Oliver was honest with Roy straight-up about Emiko, and explained how he didn’t want to tell Thea about her until she was caught, as he didn’t want to hurt her by Robert’s actions again, especially now she’s free of her life in Star City.

I love, and actually screamed when Felicity acknowledged Roy’s parkour! They specifically used his bouncy-bouncy ninja skills to break into the vault. However, I will still never get enough of Roy’s unnecessary parkour haha, and we got to see a little of that during his fights, and it still made me smile!!

Roy’s reaction to his pit-rage was heart-breaking. This was worse than when he found out about killing the police officer on Mirakuru. I can see these killings (and I’m hoping maybe even Emiko, also) being what sends him to self-exile on Lian Yu, where we found him 20 years later in the flash forwards.

Dinah/Rene/Emiko (a.k.a. the annoyances)

Dinah remains fucking annoying! Even turning out to be in on the act in the end, it was so easy to buy into her trying to send down anyone and everyone on the team for this crime because she is just generally a shitty disloyal person!

Likewise with Rene. It was easy as the viewer to believe that he had ratted out Oliver again, because he’s done it before, and I have no doubt he would do it again. Neither he nor Dinah wanted to help Roy at first. That they needed reminding by Oliver about how protecting one of the team protects all of them, just reiterates how they are not true team players and why most of the fandom still doesn’t class them as real members of Team Arrow.

Regarding Emiko and Rene…Rene basically just stalked Emiko for half the season, they are not ‘close’, ugh, stop! Emiko gets bonus points for shooting Rene when he confronts her! I actually didn’t mind how they used Emiko this week, she appeared only when necessary, and moved the story on. I still can’t take her seriously as the big bad of the season, but it is what it is. Emiko will stop at nothing to take down the Queens (which at this point is quite frankly just stupid), and her latest dastardly deed is to bury Oliver under a building (from behind a protective wall, because she knows that’s the only way she would escape Oliver) to ‘kill him’ and then to destroy his reputation on the outside by outing the video footage of him covering up for Roy.

With no flash forwards this week, I just can’t help think of all the extra time we had, and that extra time was spent on Dinah and Rene *violently rolls eyes*, when we could have had more OTA & Roy (my favourite combination)! Anyway, next week looks awesome!!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to the gif-makers! I love you more than Roy loves excessive back flips 😉

💗💗💗

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: All Stories, in the End

Mick knows that stories can't really fix things. They can't bring people back, and they can't mend broken hearts. Or can they?  (Captain Canary and platonic Coldwave)

So, today is my three-year ficaversary for Legends! This fandom has been so wonderful to me and brought me so many new friends-and got me back into writing fiction, which has had excellent repercussions in many ways-even professionally. In honor of the anniversary, here's a little tribute to stories and their power. Hope you enjoy it!

So many thanks, as usual, to LarielRomeniel for the beta and to Pir8grl for being a great sounding board!

Can also be read be here at AO3 and here at FF.net. Please be aware that it’s divided into two parts on those websites, but both are posted.

We're all made of stories. When they finally put us underground, the stories are what will go on. Not forever, perhaps, but for a time. It's a kind of immortality, I suppose, bounded by limits, it's true, but then so's everything.” 

― Charles de Lint 

 Once, Rick had resented the pirate queen who’d drawn his partner, his friend, his blood brother, into this mad quest.

To be honest, she hadn’t been a pirate queen at the time. And she hadn’t been trying to lure him, either. She’d been a pretty face and an untold story when she’d joined the rest of the old captain’s motley crew of hand-picked losers. But Rick had seen the light of curiosity in Sean’s eyes when he looked at her, and he should have known then.

This wasn’t going to go the way he thought it was going to go.

Mick sighed and put down the papers he’d taken from their locked box in his room on the Waverider. There was a reason he’d put this story away unfinished. More than one reason, really.

But today, Haircut had actually brought up Snart while they were all sitting in the galley, telling his new squeeze Spooky Girl about the lost Legends—one of the lost Legends—and it’d stirred up all sorts of memories.

Not for just Mick, either. He’d been looking at Blondie when Haircut had dropped the name “Snart,” and he’d seen the stillness in her that was more telling than even a flinch. It was what Blondie did when she was holding back a flinch, really. Mick had seen the lines of pain around her eyes, and he saw her look away quickly, rising to her feet when it became apparent the oblivious Ray wasn’t going to leave off his story.

He’d thought about stopping her as she swiftly left the room, then thought about following her. But Sara had been a bit—touchy? probably wasn’t very healthy to be calling a former assassin ‘touchy,’ even in his own thoughts—since she’d split with Bureau Chick, and maybe she needed the space. Mick let her go.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about it. And when he’d returned to his room, he’d pulled out this story, rereading it with the usual feeling of somewhat awkward regret.

Sean Lance had a reputation some might call cold. Icy, even. He’d built that reputation very carefully over his lifetime. Being cold and careful kept you safe. He was even cold with Rick Mor, his partner in crime and the closest thing he had to a best friend. Rick had led the same sort of life he had. He was pretty sure the other man understood.

But. Lara.

The blond badass hadn’t been anything he’d planned on. Certainly, he hadn’t planned on falling for her. That was stupid. That kind of shit didn’t happen in real life.

But ….she’d worked her way under his skin somehow. Made him want to be a better person—and wasn’t that a riot?

Mick sighed again. It’s not like he’d known for a fact that Snart had that kind of…feelings…about Blondie. But he’d put the pieces together, from both before and after Snart had…after the Oculus, and goddamned if it didn’t all fit. Snart deciding to go all hero-like (which probably had a good bit to do with Allen, too), choosing the team over Mick (who was willing to admit, now, that his actions on the Acheron had been pretty damned stupid) and then…and then…

And Blondie’s reaction, afterward. It wasn’t like Mick really wanted to…oh, sit shiva, for Len and everything that entailed. But especially after Savage was toast (literally, a thought which still gave him some satisfaction), he might have liked to sit down with a drink and a friend…someone else who’d known Snart…and remembered, just a little.

But Sara had avoided the topic like the fuckin’ plague, and she’d also gone from someone who seemed kinda uncertain about hooking up with anyone to flinging herself at any woman who seemed the least bit interested. Never guys, although Mick knew she liked guys too, and that was maybe a little telling in its own right.

Just because Mick never liked to talk about feelings didn’t mean he didn’t understand them in his own way. In others, anyway.

Lara Sahfer knew she was the deadliest person on this ship. That went without question. Far deadlier than the priestess and her boytoy. Deadlier than the alchemist and his apprentice. Deadlier than the eager crusader or their hapless captain.

And deadlier than the clever thief and his partner.

The partner was dangerous, but she knew the type. He was content to let his friend be the brains of their team. But the intriguing Sean Lance…

She didn’t know what to make of him.

Though she did know he kept watching her ass given the merest opportunity.

If Mick was being honest with himself (and he tried to be, these days), he’d started putting this thing down on paper first because he could see Blondie struggling and couldn’t figure out how to manage the words to talk to her about Snart—even if she’d let him.

And in stories, you could give someone—more than one someone—the happy ending they didn’t get in real life. Maybe someday, Sara would even be ready to read it.

Then all sorts of shit had happened, and Mick had stopped writing again. He’d been stuck at the bottom of the ocean for years, even if it didn’t seem like so long. And then Ghost Snart—who hadn’t been real, but who had seemed real at the time—had showed up and snarked off about even the hint of the feelings Mick was starting to acknowledge.

And then, that asshole in the Legion (well, more of an asshole than real Snart—he was still convinced that Legion Snart hadn’t been real Snart) had showed up. And Mick decided, painfully, that he wasn’t ready to write about even fictionalized Len for a while.

He locked the pages away, taking the lockbox with him when Rip had taken the Waverider back—and bringing it back with him when they’d stolen the ship in return. He added a few more bits and pieces here and there—especially, with a certain grumpy annoyance, when he sensed Sara’s interest in Bureau Chick, who really couldn’t be more different from Len. (It’d felt like a betrayal in a way, though he’d never tell her that. Snart was gone.)

And then there was Leo. Leo, who merrily flirted with Sara (and just about everyone else). Leo, who everyone seemed to like. Personable Leo, the hugger, who was the only Snart the newbies had ever met. And it seemed like everyone but him forgot about real Snart just a little bit more.

He quietly tucked the pages away and hadn’t taken them out since. Until today.

The voyage had lots of ups and downs. Rick knew that; hell, he’d caused a lot of them. He’d committed mutiny against the captain himself when the man had thrown his own lack of status on the ship and elsewhere back in his face. And he’d paid for that, paid more than a lot of those fools would ever know.

But the thing he regretted most was that it’d cost him Sean’s friendship.

Oh, he’d been angry first. Enraged, even. That bastard had hauled him out of the pirate haven where they could have been kings, just because the captain and Lara were in trouble. And then he’d chosen the crew instead of Rick in the mutiny. Because of Lara, Rick thought. And then Sean had marooned him on that desert island and left him behind.

It’d taken time and distance to see things clearly again.

By then, it was too late.

Snart had definitely had a thing for Sara—Mick had known the man long enough and well enough to have seen him show interest in men, women, and folks who mighta been either or both, though Len had always been real quiet about any lovers he took. Still, he knew the signs.

But that hadn’t gone how Mick thought, either. He'd figured the two of them would have a fling. Get it outta their systems. Snart didn’t have a heart any more than Mick did, and it wasn’t like he and Sara were gonna fall for each other or something. That was story shit.

Mick looked down at the pages in front of him and sighed yet again.

Instead, Snart had circled around Blondie like he was planning a heist, careful and curious, and Blondie had reacted much the same way. They’d started spending time together, playing cards, and while Mick had wondered what was going on there a few times, he hadn’t asked. Even when Snart had gone back to get Sara in Russia, even when he’d insisted on saving her and Rip in Star City, and, yeah, even when he’d iced Mick in the engine room.

A few days back, Mick had overheard Zari and Charlie talking about Sara and Bureau Chick, about how (they thought) Sara’s tendency to happily break rules and apologize later, if at all, had finally taken a toll on the two and led to the breakup, along with Sara’s resistance to becoming more…domesticated.

Snart wouldn’t have tried to change her. Snart had liked her just the way she was.

Sean couldn’t help being fascinated by the assassin the captain had recruited. OK, she was gorgeous, attractive in a way that seemed designed to appeal to his sense of danger, and he wouldn’t have minded having some sort of a fling with her. But flings were all he did, these days, and dipping a toe (so to speak) into those particularly dangerous waters while on this ship seemed like a bad idea.

But that didn’t keep him from watching. Or them from playing cards. Or talking. Or watching each other’s back. Or...

Oh, hell.

There were a lot of reasons Mick himself wasn’t fond of Bureau Chick. (He knew perfectly well what her name was, he just liked to pretend otherwise.) But her attempts at changing who Blondie was…well, Mick had had too many people trying to change him to what they wanted him to be over the years. People who generally didn’t get what’d made him who he was. He didn’t take kindly to it.

And he didn’t take kindly to it happening to his friends, either.

Oh, sure, he’d changed, by this point. But he’d chosen to change, himself. It was different.

Now that Bureau Chick was out of the picture…

Mick sighed, putting a hand down on the partially written story. Snart was still dead. Nothing would change that. Ever.

No matter how much he tried to fix things in a stupid story.

Lara had been through a lot in the past few years. She wasn’t looking for a lover, or even a fling. She hadn’t been down that particular road since before she’d died and come back, and she wasn’t ready for it now. Maybe she never would be.

But. Sean.

The thief didn’t seem to care that she’d killed for hire. Didn’t seem scared of her bloodlust or intimidated by her history. He just seemed intrigued. And, somehow, he had an uncanny sense of why she wanted to be...better. She got the feeling that he did, too.

She wasn’t scared of anything. But...

She thought maybe she should be scared of this. Not because it was bad.

Because it could be all too good.

Mick had just pulled out the pages of another story, his latest sci-fi epic, the one he’d asked New Girl to read sometime soon, when Gideon’s voice echoed through the ship.

“Captain Lance would like everyone on the bridge,” she announced, sounding just a little harried. That wasn’t good. “Immediately.”

Then the ship shook. That definitely wasn’t good. Mick cursed, dropping the pages on the desk and turning for the door.

He didn’t even consider that he’d left the other story out, too.

It was quite a bit later when Zari wandered into the room, smiling a bit as the door slid open to admit her, per Mick’s orders. She was glad he’d come to trust her that much. She didn’t think Mick trusted many, and it felt like a rare and rather precious accolade.

Even if it was mostly so she could play editor.

The unexplained temporal storm earlier still had the ship in disarray, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about that at the moment. Mick and Sara and Ray were going over temporal data that was nonsense to her and the others were dealing with some variety of seasickness. Time sickness. Whatever. It’d been caused by the ship’s motion through the storm, so close enough. Zari had tried, but poor Charlie, who’d had a really bad reaction to it, had refused any help at all, locking herself in her room and snarling through the door.

Zari hummed to herself as she looked over Mick’s desk and the old typewriter he still insisted on using. There were a few different piles of papers, but they’d been knocked around a bit by the turbulence. Looked like one had slid to the side, and another toward the front of the desk. Which one had Mick had in mind?

The one at the front caught her eye, so she picked it up, gathering the pages into a pile, turning to find a seat amidst the clutter of the room and settling in to read.

Once, Rick had resented the pirate queen...

The cult that’d started this whole damned thing had them again, even after all the crew’s plans and attempts to change things. They had Rick, minions strapping him down into a chair while one of the cult leaders—the one who’d broken him the first time—stared at him thoughtfully. Rick stared back, determined not to show any fear.

Maybe, he thought, even as the manacles closed around his wrists, Sean and Lara had gotten away. They’d been holed up again, like they did sometimes. Neither of them was stupid. They might have gotten away.

Gods, he hoped they’d gotten away.

Zari had completely lost track of time when Mick came through the door and stopped, acknowledging her presence with a grunt. She blinked, slowly coming back to reality as he ambled toward the desk and gave it a cursory look—before suddenly freezing and then spinning to stare at her. And the pages she was reading.

“You can’t read that,” Mick told her abruptly, something odd in his tone, even as Zari tightened her grip on the papers involuntarily. He sounded almost...upset. Embarrassed? Mick?

“It was right on your desk. I thought it was what you wanted me to read.” She studied him, then looked back down at the story, letting out a long breath. She liked Mick’s writing, but she’d really been caught up in this one.

“Mick, this is great,” she told him, lifting her eyes again and giving the pages a shake for emphasis. “You’ve got this...this incredible romance going on between these awesome, real, flawed characters, the thief and the assassin, and this amazing...platonic soulmates thing with the male protagonist and his friend at the same time.” She shook her head, impressed. “And you don’t see enough of that in fiction, especially in cases where the romantic relationship doesn’t eclipse the platonic one and they’re both good stories on their own. It’s great.”

Mick stared at her, expression still opaque. Zari stared back a moment, then rifled through the papers. Now that she was near the end, she didn’t think there was enough...yes, it just left off there, right in the middle of a scene.

“You need to finish it,” she insisted. “And there are a few places you just fade to black...and I want to see how it ends!”

But he turned away then, toward the desk, shoulders set.

“I can’t,” he said, tossing the words back over his shoulder at her. “He died.” A pause. “The end.”

Zari blinked again. “Who? Rick? Sean? You can’t...”

But her voice trailed off as she saw Mick leaning on his desk, hands gripping the wood and knuckles white, staring at his typewriter like it’d hurt him. But it hadn’t; she had, somehow, by sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong, even though she hadn’t meant to. So, after another minute, she got to her feet, quietly putting the pages down where she’d been sitting and taking a step toward the door.

Mick didn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. And left.

The others had decided to destroy the cult, and possibly the island it claimed as its base as well. Sean couldn’t say he was surprised. He wasn’t fond at all of how much power the group claimed, far more than they’d originally suspected. And now that they knew the cult was supporting the warlord they’d vowed to stop, it was necessary if they ever wanted to complete that mission.

Still, he could see Lara watching him out of the corner of her eye as all the others chimed in, agreeing to this plan. Even Rick was in—though, of course, he had more reason than most to hate the cult.

“We set out on this mission to stop Vindictus and save the world. To become legends and change our fates,” the crusader, Edmund, said earnestly. “That mission hasn't changed.”

Sean made a scoffing noise. “This is madness,” he said, glancing around at all of them before letting his gaze light on Lara—and an almost-smile touch his mouth. “I like it.”

She smiled back at him.

Behind her, Rick rolled his eyes. But the other man was smiling too.

He died.

Zari frowned to herself as she strolled the corridors of the ship, pondering Mick’s reaction and his words. Given that no main character had died yet in that story, it was apparent that the tale must have been based on a true one. But...

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Lara, assassin turned (at some point) pirate queen. Sean, the thief. Rick, his friend and partner.

Oh.

It seemed to fit. She only knew the sketchiest bits of what the Legends had been up to when their original captain had first recruited them, but she should have figured this out sooner. The power of Mick’s tale had obfuscated the reality behind it. And she knew almost nothing about Leonard, Mick’s former partner, just that Mick missed him and that he’d died, doing something that had saved the world.

Had he and Sara really been a thing? Almost a thing? Zari nibbled her lip, thinking. She didn’t think she’d heard Sara so much as mention his name. Ever. Which...actually did point more toward some powerful feelings there rather than the opposite.

Zari thought for a few more minutes. Then she turned toward the bridge.

Lara knew that Rick had taken refuge in one of his hidey holes in a cargo bay, probably drinking his way through more of the captain’s rum. She’d figured Sean was with him.

Which was fine. Really. After the thief pulled a gun on her after the cult members had taken their friends, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to talk to him. Oh, she could have had that gun away from him in a heartbeat, and he’d backed down awfully quickly, given how stubborn she knew he was, but it was the principle of the thing.

She’d been furious. And heartbroken, though she wasn’t ready to tell anyone that and probably never would be. She’d thought they were friends, at least. Maybe...maybe skirting around something more?

But he wasn’t in the cargo bay with Rick, after all, as it turned out. He was here. At her cabin door. Now. Looking at her with eyes that had a veneer of his habitual attitude over even more uncertainty. It probably said something, too, that she recognized that.

Sean cleared his throat. “Hi,” he managed. “Can I come in?”

Lara leaned on the doorway and glared at him. “What do you want?”

“To talk.” A look from under lowered lashes. Damn him. “And apologize.”

“You could do that right here.”

“Mmm.” He glanced away. “Maybe I want to say more than that.”

She shouldn’t let him in. She should shut the door in his handsome face. She should...

Lara stepped back, letting him in.

Sara was sitting in the captain’s chair. Oh, there was no particular flying to be done right now, but she wasn’t in the mood to go back to her quarters. Her empty quarters, with no sign of Ava in them. More evidence that she’d fucked up for real this time.

Or not. Frankly, Sara kept waffling between anger and annoyance at the other woman’s conviction that Sara needed to change and grief over the loss of someone else she'd cared for. OK, loved. Sure, Ava was back in the Bureau offices, healthy and fine compared to some of the people Sara had lost, but Sara had lost her regardless.

Or maybe she’d never really had her to begin with. Had they both been operating under false pretenses? Ava, thinking Sara would settle and become a good little soldier, or wife, or both? Sara, thinking that Ava would stop wanting her to? Would stop wanting to make her over in a different image?

Sara wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, slumped in the chair with her jaw in her hand, eyes closed, thoughts and feelings circling in her head, when she heard the footstep. Closer than she’d usually let someone get, but she’d let her guard down, knowing that Gideon would warn her if it wasn’t a friend.

“What’s up, Z?” she asked, seeing Zari there, watching her with a rather enigmatic expression. “Everything OK?”

The other woman shrugged, moving closer and studying Sara as if seeing her in a new light. Sara was just about to ask again when Zari glanced away, nodded to herself, and looked back.

“Who was Leonard Snart?” she asked, point blank.

Sara was pretty sure she didn’t move, but for a moment, she almost felt like she’d reeled. “What?”

“Mick’s old partner.” Z tilted her head. “One of the original members of the Legends, right? But no one ever talks about him. Why is that?”

Get him out of here.

No.

Just do it.

Sara swallowed. “He died,” she said abruptly, knowing her voice sounded harsh. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Other people have too, died or left, and the team talks about them.”

“Why are you asking this now?” Sara’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair. “Mick...”

Zari seemed to consider. She looked a little like she regretted bringing this up, but she was too stubborn to back down now. Sara knew that well. “He wrote something about him. Snart. Well, you and Snart.”

“Me and...Snart.” She should say there was no “her and Snart.” She should.

“I wasn’t meant to read it, but I didn’t know that. And the story just...ended. And when I asked, Mick said he died.”

What on earth could Mick have written? How would he even have known...?

...what the future might hold for me...and you...and me and you.

Zari’s eyes are direct. “Did you love him?”

I might have.

“I don’t want to talk about this now.” Her broken edges and Leonard’s, they’d somehow fit together.

“Sara...”

“Don’t push it, Z.”

The bomb in the center of the island wasn’t working right. Someone needed to hold the button down for the connection to be made, for it to blow the whole thing to kingdom come.

The crusader had been going to do it. But he was the sort of guy the world needed, one able and willing to help people, to fix things that needed fixing. Not like Rick, with all his damages. It’d been an easy decision to knock the other man out and take his place. And the captain—pragmatic, despite all his fine talk—hadn’t hesitated to take Edmund and leave Rick there, hand on the bomb, considering his fate.

But then:

“Rick!”

After Zari left, Mick had stayed in his room for a while, stewing, discontented and angry at the memories. He didn’t blame her—he'd left the damned story out, after all, and she didn’t know enough about what had happened to connect the dots right away. But, still, it’d been a stupid thing to write down in the first place.

With most books, anyway, writing things didn’t make them come true.

After a while, he left the room, trying to pretend nothing had happened. He had dinner with Haircut in the galley. He worked out a bit in the training room. He watched an episode of “The X-Files" with Charlie, who’d laughed so hard at the show’s version of shapeshifters that she’d nearly gotten sick again.

Then he’d slowly sauntered back to his room, wondering if he should go find New Girl and apologize.

But there was someone else in his room.

Blondie was sitting in one of the chairs, knees pulled up to her chin, a posture that looked more vulnerable than nearly anything he’d seen from her in a long time. She looked up as he entered, and he was startled to see red-rimmed eyes—and a sheaf of papers in her hand.

Damnit. He’d left that locked up again. Honest, he had.

Mick looked back at Sara, who smiled a little at him.

“I did learn how to pick locks,” she murmured. “It wasn’t hard to find.”

“New Girl.”

“Sort of. She said you wrote something about...about Leonard. And me. I didn’t realize what it was. And I shouldn’t have gone into your things, but I. Well.” She looked down at the pages. “I wasn’t at my best. I’m sorry, Mick.”

Mick dragged in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. They’ve been through too much together to let this get to him, especially since it’s so unusual. “S’OK.” He took a seat himself, watching her.

Sara met his eyes, then glanced away. She looked at the pages again and the quiet drew out.

Then: “This is really how you saw...it? Us?”

Her and Snart, she meant. Mick hesitated.

“Saw what could have been,” he said finally. “Was I wrong?”

A long silence.

“No,” Sara admitted. “No. I think...I think we could have been something...something really good. If we’d had more time. Isn’t that how it goes?” Her fingers contracted, wrinkling the papers, but then she smoothed them out, handing them back to him. “And you knew Leonard longer than I did, better than I did. If this is what you saw...”

“Eh. In some ways, I knew him better. People change.”

“True.” Sara sighed, getting up from the chair. “I’m sorry, Mick,” she said again. “I shouldn’t have just come in here and rummaging around. That was beyond rude. I just...needed to see...”

She shook her head, as if trying to get a grip, then gave him an arch look. “No sex scenes though, I noticed.”

Mick could actually feel his face heat. “That woulda been way too weird.”

Sara laughed a bit evilly—and a bit sadly, which was an odd mix. But still, she just patted his arm again, sighed, and hurried out the door.

Mick watched her go. He looked down at the pages in his hands, then put them down on the desk and studied them for a long moment.

Then he fed a clean piece of paper into his typewriter, nodded to himself, and started to type.

Time to give those losers—all of them—a happy ending.

You could do that, in stories.

About three months later, Waverider time

“Heard you been writing again. Since I...well.”

The words were casually said, in the usual drawl, but Mick could hear a number of things in them. Regret, for having been gone. A pleased attention, because Snart had always accepted his writing in a way others hadn’t. Amusement, probably because New Girl had almost certainly been the one to tell him that. And guilt, he thought, for so many reasons.

Snart stood in the doorway to Mick's room and looked around, his expression still and not real informative. But he hadn’t commented on the clutter or anything else, focusing after a moment on the typewriter still sitting on the desk.

Mick nodded, watching his long-lost friend. “I’m doing the final edits on a manuscript that’s goin’ to a publisher,” he volunteered. “Got two other books out, too. Sold pretty well.”

The other man actually smiled.

The temporal storms that had started that day about three months ago had gotten worse and worse, while both the Legends and the Time Bureau had tried to figure out what was causing them and were kept busy trying to clean up their aftermath.

Finally, they’d figured out the storms had been touched off by the deepest part of the time stream trying to rid itself of an irritant, something that shouldn’t be there.

And that irritant had turned out to be Leonard Snart.

The real one. Now back on the Waverider, confirmed by Gideon, whole and healthy—albeit with an uncanny sense for temporal disturbances and a weird ability to reset time a few seconds here and there. They hadn’t quite fully sorted through the repercussions of that power yet.

Snart was...different, now. Apparently, he’d been at least somewhat aware of the passage of time while he was stuck in the...well, Haircut called it a time pearl, a barrier the time stream had formed between itself and the annoyance. It hadn’t felt like three years to him—more of an odd, lengthy waking dream—but it had given him lots of time, he said, to think.

His personality was a step closer to Leo now, in a way, though he was still extremely capable of pointed snark and sass, as Haircut had already found out. But he was also a little less cold, and a great deal more thoughtful in a way that didn’t seem to have much to do with heists. (As far as Mick knew, anyway. Could be both.)

Now, Snart was looking at the manuscript on the desk with a definite glint of curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah?” His hand hovered over the neat stack of papers. “Can I…”

Mick hesitated. And Snart curled his fingers again and withdrew his hand in that smooth way he had, tucking it behind his back and acting like he’d never reached out to begin with.

Classic Snart.

Well, Mick was done with that old dynamic. He’d lost too much, and he’d been so lucky to get some of it back. Abruptly, he reached out too, scooping up the papers and extending them to Snart, who took them with a blink of surprise.

Mick waved a hand at them a bit awkwardly. “Uh,” he said, “that one wasn’t originally for publication. New Girl…Zari…talked me into finishing it and sending it out. And Blondie gave me…permission. Even wrote some bits.”

Snart had frowned, just a little. “Why would Sara have to…”

But he stopped, fingers tightening on the papers. And Mick sighed inwardly.

When they’d pulled Snart from the time stream…time pearl, whatever…there’d been more than one person who’d been intently watching the groggy, dazed crook when he first came face to face with Sara, who’d been staring at him like she was seeing a ghost.

But all they’d gotten was a breathed, barely audible “Sara” from Snart before the man had crumpled and Mick had carried him off to the medbay. Once he’d woken and gotten a clean bill of health, well, it seemed they were rarely in the same place at the same time. In fact, Mick was pretty sure they were avoiding each other.

Which made no sense at all. New Girl agreed.

Well, maybe this will get them to pull their heads out of their asses. Worth the embarrassment for the chance of that.

“You nearly died, you jackass,” Lara whispered to Sean, standing there on the boat with her hands wrapped in his coat, holding him close. Not as close as she’d like, but...even after everything, she knew he still had his lines that were tough to cross, still had his damages, his own rocky shores. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“I couldn’t just let him die.” Sean didn’t seem to mind that she was holding him. In fact, his hands slipped up and around her shoulders, pulling her closer too. His blue eyes looked seriously down into hers, making it hard to breathe.

“Of course you couldn’t.” Lara took a deep breath. “But...”

But then Sean was kissing her, right out on the deck in the open, a kiss that was everything their desperate kiss while he was holding the bomb hadn’t been. A promise, not a farewell; an invitation and a dare. Lara tightened her hold on him and kissed him back, the rest of the world fading around them, focused for once on the here and the now...and just maybe, a little bit on the future.

And if there were a couple of wolf whistles from Rick and the others...well, they just ignored them.

Mick had tried to be unobtrusive about watching the door to Snart’s new room. Fortunately, since it was right down the hall from the galley, he could just lurk in there and listen, occasionally peek outside. He’d been nursing the same beer for a while when New Girl slipped in, too, eyes brightening as she saw him.

“Snart’s reading it?” she whispered. He’d passed on the message through Gideon.

“Yeah.” Mick shifted a bit uncomfortably.

Maybe he shouldn’t have let Sara add the sexier bits. But there was no way in hell he was doin’ it, not with this book, and his publisher expected a certain amount of that. Sara, at least, had seemed to get a kick out of it—just how much of a kick, he’d decided he really didn’t want to know.

He also didn’t think he wanted to know how much of it had really happened—though he suspected, at least, that the kiss at the Oculus/bomb had.

New Girl looked pleased. “This has to be the kick in the ass they both need,” she said.

“ ‘Less we were all wrong.”

“We weren’t. Sara said so. Right?”

“That was before Snart came back.” He thought about it a minute. “Easier to say that when it was just a ‘mighta been’ and not a ‘could really be.’”

New Girl got an odd, considering expression on her face. Mick wondered what—maybe who—she was thinking about. “Yeah,” she acknowledged after a minute. “That’s true. But...”

There was a sound. A door opening. Mick and New Girl—he really should start calling her Zari, he supposed, or Z—exchanged a look, waited a moment, and then peeked out the door.

Snart was headed down the corridor. Toward Sara’s quarters.

Z made a happy sort of humming noise, waiting until Snart turned the corner before stepping out of the galley. Mick followed her as they both slunk down the hall, pausing just before the corner. Close enough to Sara’s doorway.

They heard it slide open.

“Len.” Sara sounded a little surprised. Not unhappy. Thoughtful. Waiting.

“Sara.” Had he really said her name like that before? Ugh. Mick couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed that tone. That was get-a-room territory all on its own.

Another pause. They heard Snart step inside, heard the door close...mostly. It was cracked, just enough to hear what was being said, as long as they snuck a bit closer and the occupant used normal voices. Mick heard Z whisper a “thank you” to Gideon—who, in her usual way, knew perfectly well what was going on around her ship.

“Mick apparently thinks we had some sort of great torrid romance going on,” they heard Snart say to Sara. There was amusement in his voice and Mick breathed out a sigh of relief. So, he wasn’t mad or too embarrassed.

There was amusement in Sara’s voice, too, as she responded. “You read it.”

“Yeah.” A pause. A long one. “He said you did too.” A shorter pause. “Said you even added...a few things.”

Sara’s laugh was low and rippling. Z elbowed Mick, who ignored her.

“Wishful thinking,” the captain said quietly. “I thought you were gone.”

“Hmmmm. I’m back now.” Pause. “Can’t change the earlier story. But maybe could...start a new one?”

Z clapped a hand over her mouth, her grin obvious. She darted a glance at Mick, eyes shining.

“What sort of story, though?” Sara’s tone was teasing...but not without a hint of real question. “Comedy? Adventure?” Pause. “Torrid romance?”

“Well. Kinda partial to the idea of that last, at the moment.” Snart’s own tone was low, a bit rough. “Not too late?”

Z stepped forward, listening intently.

And Gideon firmly slid the door shut the rest of the way.

“Hey!”

“What happens next, Ms. Tomaz, you certainly do not need to be privy to.” Gideon sounded just a little prissy.

“I most certainly do!”

But Mick grinned, reaching out to put a hand on her arm and pull her back toward the galley. He knew Snart, and he knew Sara. And he figured they’d be just fine.

“They gotta write their own story now,” he told her. “Let’s leave ‘em to it.”

“We’re all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?”

— The Doctor

[laboratorioautoral]

Lol i got hit me with your best shot stuck in my head now, so how about a chance meeting at a club with it playing? Preferably with missing each other and not instantly realizing who they are dancing with?

I guess I got a bit too excited about this plot and things got…Hotter than I expected. So…This is M rated for security reasons. Not sure if that’s what you wanted, but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonny.

Itwas claustrophobic inside the club, but she wasn’t going home thatnight without being completely wasted. Arya grabbed a shot of tequilabefore she could try to reach the stage and listen to whatever bandwas playing.

Ithad been Myrcella’s idea and it was surely a bad one. Cella’sbreaking up with Trystan wasn’t even something unusual, but she haddecided she would have a girls’ night and picked the lamest club intown.

Thesongs were old rock’n roll. Something nostalgic and loud, all aboutrebellious youth and booze. It reminded Arya of one of those musicalsSansa was so fond of. Rock of Ages or something…Well, at least TomCruise was worthy of her time and patience, and the music was dope,but Arya honestly wished Cella had a better sense of fun than a GunsN’ Roses cover, or something just as bad.

Tequilawould have to help Arya to get through the night. Maybe she couldfind a cute boy and have some fun. Preferably forget what Robb hadtold her earlier that day. This is not the time nor the place foryou to think about him! Her mindscreamed over the noise in the room.

Jonwas back in town. That was no big deal. He was just a guy. One ofRobb’s mates and surely not better than Theon…Just another guy,except that he wasn’t. Not for her.

Somecrushes are embarrassing, but that in particular should have turnedto smoke a long time ago. It was ok for them to be friends. When Jonleft town Arya was probably too young for him to think about her asanything but Robb’s little sister. She was probably in the friendzone – if such a thing existed – or maybe in an even morefrustrating position. Arya was probably placed in an altar among anydeities he might worship. Some genderless being.

Thatwas probably why they kept talking along the years. It was harmlessand Jon missed home. They had always been close and they talked abouteverything, until they didn’t talk anymore. Since he found anotherto date. A real woman for sure and a red head to make it worst. Thatwas too much for Arya to bare and she had been the one avoidingcommunication for most of the time.

Ithad been a good decision and she was fine with it. She even datedsome guys along those years. IfJon appeared right in front of her, Arya wouldn’t even recognizehim at that point. She was incollege now and she was way more confident than she had been in thepast. Nothing could possibly make her lose her cool, or so shethought until that morning when Robb told her that Jon was in townand had asked about her.

Shewas a mess ever since and at least Cella, the loud music and thebooze would keep her away from doing something stupid…As long asher cellphone was out of herreach.

Afterthe second shot Arya decided that she would need more than alcohol tokeep her entertained. She need a guy. Someone to flirt with and havesome kisses. Casual sex was also a possibility but she doubted thatshe would be in the mood since the only thing inside her head inbright neon lights was Jon’s name.

Aryalooked around and tried to find someone worthy of a second glance.Like a she-wolf sniffing the air looking for a prey, Arya tried todistinguish between the shadowy figures all around. A dark and smokyroom surely didn’t make it easy and the alcohol seemed to improveeveryone’s looks around her.

HitMe With Your Best Shot wasplaying and at least that song spoke to her soul in a very particularway. Arya couldn’t help moving her hips a bit as she walked aroundthe club and leaving Myrcella behind. It was a discreet attempt atdancing, but she wouldn’t give away her talents so easily andcertainly not in that place full of guys dressed in black leather.

“Hey!”Someone shouted behind her, trying to call her attention, but Aryacouldn’t hear until the guy touched her shoulder. “Hey, you!”

Aryaturned to face whoever it was. Maybe something had fallen from herpockets and the guy was trying to return it to her.

Ohmy gods! It was the only thingher brain managed to process about the stranger standing in front ofher. Dark curly long hair,a full and well cut beard,lithe and elegant even all wrapped up inside black jeans and leatherjacket. Oh baby…You had to be exactly my type, hadn’tyou? I think we could be friends tonight.Her mind at this point was roaming among all of her wildestfantasies.

“Hi!”Arya answered simply. “Can I help you?”

“Maybeyou can.” He said before flashing a sly smile at her. One of thosemeant to start that game she liked so much. Small talk, sensuousmoves, slow hands and clothes falling all around if she was luckyenough. The guy offered her his hand. “Will you dance with me,Miss?”

“Idon’t dance!” Arya shouted so he could hear her over the loudmusic.

“Ithink you do!” He replied insistently. “C’mon! Just a dance.”

Wellyou’re a real tough cookie with a long historyOfbreaking little hearts like the one in meThat’sokay, let’s see how you do itPutup you dukes, let’s get down to it

It was just a dance. It couldn’thurt and he was handsome like the devil. She had a thing for a shortaffairs with tall dark strangers and that guy was surely her type oftrouble.

Arya accepted his hand and theystarted to dance in the middle of the club. Nothing too complicated,only some random moves dictated by the alcohol and the lust. He was aterrible dancer, but she could overlook that as long as he made it upfor her with a mind blowing kiss.

Hitme with your best shotWhydon’t you hit me with your best shotHitme with your best shotFireaway

Aryaspin around and turn her back at him. That certainly felt like aninvitation for him to come and chase her and at least the guy got thehint. His arm held her by the waist and pulled her body closer tohis. Arya swayed her hips in the rhythm of the music, just to teasehim a bit.

Heburied his nose in the curve of her neck. His beard tickling hersensitive skin and making her shiver in anticipation for a kiss thatdidn’t come for a while. His hips tried to follow hers and hesmelled of cigarettes, bear and post shave cologne. Something in thatsmell was inviting and familiar, but Arya couldn’t tell why.

Youcome on with it, come onYou don’t fight fairThat’s okay,see if I careKnock me down, it’s all in vainI get rightback on my feet again

Thatguy was a gentleman through and through. He teased, he provoked, butnever once tried to cross a few lines, like kissing her neck orsliding his hand under her pants. He was waiting for her to make upher mind and go down that road with him. She had the wheel, she wasin control and the gods knew she loved it.

Aryaturned around again and looked directly at him. His hand restedagainst the small of her back and pulled her closer once more. Theyforeheads touching and their breath entwined as they flirted with thepossibility of making of that dance a one night stand.

FuckJon! I already have company tonight!Her mind finally decided and Arya threw her arms around his neck andkissed him hard. That guy wasn’t much of a dancer, but with a kisslike that she couldn’t care less.

Hishands got bold and grabbed her ass covered by her tight jeans. Thatwas a kiss you only get to experience once in a life time, when youeither think you are gonna die or when you are so high that the worldaround you might be ending.

“Wannago somewhere quiet?” He asked in a low voice close to her ear.

“Can’tgo for long. My friend is waiting for me to take her home.” Aryaanswered lazily. Why did she agree to give Cella a ride?!

“Wecan be quick.” He replied sensuously. “Or she can take an Ubberback home.”

“I’ma good friend, ya know?” Arya grinned at him. “You’ll have togive me one good reason to leave Cella behind.” The guy smiled ather as if he was the catthat just ate the fucking canary.

“Iwant to suck you until your toes curl.” Oh gosh! If that wasn’t areason good enough for her to tell Cella to find another ride backhome, than Arya had no idea of what it was.

“FuckCella! You lead the way.” Arya answered.

Theywalked out of the club and got inside an old black Camaro that wasparked outside. He pressed her back against the car and Arya closedher eyes to receive another kiss. His hand unzipped her jeans andslid under her pants to rub her clit.

Hewas good. He was verygood.

Herbreath became labored as his fingers played with her body. He kissedher neck as Arya got half way to paradise. If that was just theforeplay, she could barely wait for the real deal. It was only fairthat she would repay his gesture and to feel him hard, thick and hotin her hands made her feel the most powerful creature on earth. For amoment his fingers stopped as he gasped for air.

Heheld her wrist after a few strokes, making her stop completely.

“I’mnot doing this in a parking lot.” He said with difficulty. “I’mstaying at a hotel a couple of blocks from here. Not fancy, but ithas a nice bed.”

“Ifwe are doing it tonight, you should at least tell me your name,stranger.” Arya grinned at him.

“Ladiesfirst.” He insisted before getting his hand out of her jeans andtry to recompose himself.

“It’sArya.” She said lazily.

Fora second there was utter silence between them as they stood in a darkparking lot. Arya sensed a change in the air. Something between shockand panic.

“AryaStark?” He asked breathlessly.

Hitme with your best shotWhy don’t you hit me with your bestshotHit me with your best shotFire away

Thatwasn’t what she had expected to hear. Yes, there was somethingfamiliar about him, but Arya was pretty sure she had never seen thatguy before. Long hair, full beard, leather jacket…He looked likemost of the guys inside the club, exceptfor the white wolf emblem on his chest.

“Jon?”Her eyes were suddenly wide open and she thank the gods for thatfucking parking lot being too dark for him to see her bright redface.

“I…Ican’t believe it.” Jon was clearly in panic at that point. “How…?You are a kid! How did you get inside this place?!”

OHGREAT! After getting his hand under her panties now he wanted to giveher drive license a look! Arya was pretty sure that some deity up inthe sky was having a great laugh at her expenses.

“I’m21.” She said as a matter of fact and pretty annoyed by his suddendistress. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown woman.”

“No!You are Arya!” He insisted in the middle of his panic attack. Thatcouldn’t get any worst, could it? “You are Robb’s little sisterand I should…I should probably take you back home before eitherRobb or Ned come for my head.”

“Gosh!I forgot how dramatic you can be at times!” She rolled her eyes asshe tried to straighten her shirt and fix her hair. “It has beenwhat? Seven years? I wouldn’t stay frozen in time waiting for youtocome back and mess up with my hair.”

“Arya…Idon’t…I don’t know what to say!” Jon answered exasperated.“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“Well,guess what?” Arya looked directly at him and this time the tequilaand the sheer need for him took the best of her. Sometimes all thatyou need is five seconds of insane courage. “I’m not and I’mstill waiting for you to suck me until we both forget our names andI’ll not pretend that I haven’t dreamed of this for most of myteens so…You either get your shit together so we can continue withwhat promises to be a hell of a ride, or you go joying the church andembrace celibate, but if you turn your back on me you’ll have tolive with your conscience and all the “what ifs” inside your headforever.”

“Whatthe fuck, Arya?” He looked at her scandalized for a second.

“Youwere with your hand inside my jeans to not say something moreintimate, so…We are going to hell anyway.” Arya said as a matterof fact. “It’s up to you to decided if you are going to enjoy theride or not. Robb doesn’t have to know what we do in dark parkinglots.”

“Fuckit!” Jon growled and Arya prepared her spirit to turn around andpretend that night never happened. She just wanted the ground to openand swallowed her whole so she wouldn’t have to look at his faceever again. “Get inside the car.” Jon commanded angrily andkissed her one more time before the night got wild.