#clark could die happy knowing he is an inspiration for things like that...

[supurman]

man do i love younger heroes who see clark as a big insp going starry eyed when they meet him . or i love younger heroes being clarks lil baby hero for a trip... just fun old and wise and young and chipper dynamic stuff.

[freetobeeyouandme]

I'm Starvin', Darlin'

Tags: Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Bylerween 2023, Slight Angst, Starvation, Brief Mentions of Cannibalism and Dying, Prompt: Trapped in the Upside Down

Words: 2.8k

Summary:

In the end all he can say is: “I have a bad idea.” “Worse than standing too close to a gate and getting dragged into the Upside Down as it closes?” “Depends.” He scoots closer. Lets go of Will’s hand to properly cup his face. He’s so close that he can smell Will’s breath: Acidic and dry. Kinda bad. “On what?” Will says, breathless. - Or, Bylerween Day 1: Trapped in the Upside Down

read on Ao3 or below; see whole collection

A/N: Happy Bylerween one and all! I normally have a hard time coming up with shorter stories, so it's been fun trying to figure out what to write for each day, especially since I wanted to do every day and not just the ones I immediately had inspiration for. The solution was picking a common theme across the board, which ended up being kissing - something else I could use the practice with and something that was very fun to combine with the sometimes more horror themed prompts I picked. For today we got "Trapped in the Upside Down", so enjoy! CW (not sure if necessary): Starvation,brief mentions of cannibalism and dying

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It’s strange, Mike thinks, how quickly the temperature has stopped bothering him. It feels like perpetual winter here, except that it’s no winter wonderland. Wish that it were – the magic of that would have quickly faded, too, but at least for a while they could have pretended. Instead they had gotten dim light with spores flitting through the air like tiny evil dust motes and vines crawling along the floor like snakes, ready to constrict and suffocate whatever enemies their master had.

And they had gotten the cold.

It’s the sharp, freezing chill of a calm winters day, with no harsh winds biting at your clothes or heavy snowfall obscuring what little remains of the sun when the days are short. It’s a cold that doesn’t even register at first until you’re already freezing, frog in a boiling pot except Mike would do anything right now to be that frog. Because down here the sun has never once risen to warm a single inch of this lifeless, barren land.

They had done their best to combat the cold, but by now it has seeped under the blankets and their shirts as well, settling wetly into every inch of them, toes to fingertips. But Mike has gotten used to that, since. Exist in one state for too long and you got used to a lot of things.

He’s used to the hunger, too. His stomach had given up a few days ago now, and the dizziness that came with the hollow in his stomach had turned into simple, perpetual exhaustion. It’s a softer feeling, less painful. His body simply does not have enough energy to keep warm and also stay awake.

They’d counted days, at first, but once they’d begun drifting off, they had begun blurring into one another. He remembers the first day, the trek through the dead landscape until they found the dark mirror of Hop’s cabin. They had contacted the other side, carefully spelling out messages in morse code and then using El as a radio to let their families know where they were. That they were as safe as they could be in this place. That they would be waiting right here.

He’s not sure how long it’s been since then. He’d been freezing already by the time they tried to fix Hop’s old bed and collected whatever half decent blankets they could find to create some semblance of comfort. And since then they haven’t really moved. There’s no food to forage, no water to find. Spending their energy on a trek into town to find more fabric isn’t worth the energy they’d lose.

So they’ve just been laying here. Trying to conserve heat and energy (which really are the same things, Mike’s inner Mr. Clarke points out unhelpfully). Trying not to think about how they might die here. Just like this.

A few years back one of his grandmother’s neighbors had died at home while Mike and Nancy were visiting her. Nanna had said he’d gotten lucky, that to die in your sleep was really the best way to go. You just fell asleep and that was it. No pain. You didn’t even notice. She’d said that was how she wanted to go, and back then that had seemed like a sensible thing to Mike.

Now it’s the scariest thing he can think of. To simply drift off and never wake in this cold hell? To leave Will to fend for himself? To die not knowing if Will, at least, will make it out?

Worse, to wake up and find Will even colder next to him, no heartbeat, no breath?

Mike reaches out, tapping his finger lightly against Will’s elbow. He’s laying curled around himself, his back ever so slightly to Mike, but Mike’s insistent tapping brings him back around. He uses the opening to slip his hand into Will’s. This time Will doesn’t pull back.

Mike had tried earlier, thinking that the closer a space they could create under the blankets, the easier it would be for their bodies to recycle the heat. But Will had scooted away at the lightest touch, and Mike hadn’t given chase because the bed was only so big.

Now Will lets him slide his fingers between his. Lets him scoot closer.

Not that it’s going to help with the warmth at all.

“If you wake up and I’m dead you have my permission to eat me,” Mike says with no preamble. There is no way to lead into this conversation.

Will stares at their intertwined hands, frowning. Then he says: “If anything you should be eating me. It’s my fault we’re in this situation in the first place.”

And there it is. Mike had been waiting for Will to say that – knew Will was bound to take the blame. It doesn’t mean Mike is ready to agree with him. They both could be stubborn like that.

“Will-”

“No. If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be here. I was trying to hold onto something and then you fell in with me, and I’m sorry.”

Mike shakes his head. “You weren’t the only one trying to stop you from falling in. I could have let go before I fell and I didn’t. Because this way at least you’re not alone.”

Will turns away, staring up at the dirty, overgrown ceiling above them. He says nothing. And Mike can’t read his face. Can’t figure out why his eyes shine with tears.

“Or did you want to be over here alone again?”

Will’s lack of a response should be answer enough. It’s not like Mike can’t guess what he’s thinking in that regard. But as Will continues to be quiet, looking pointedly away from Mike with tears in his eyes, he can’t bear letting him be quiet.

He pokes Will in the side with his free hand. “Did you? All alone while monsters prowl and-”

Will meets his eyes again, expression dead serious. His voice is shaking when he replies: “No.”

“Sorry,” Mike says.

Will shakes his head.

Mike squeezes his hand. He has the weird urge to reach out and brush the tears away from Will’s face, except no tears have even fallen yet. And he doesn’t think putting his thumb to Will’s quivering lips is going to help either.

“They’ll find us,” he tries to reassure Will and himself. “They’re working on a way to get another gate open and then we can leave. No one’s going to eat anyone.”

“What’s the first thing you’ll do when we’re right side up again?” Will asks, indulging Mike’s overly optimistic speculation about their future.

Mike has to think about that for a second. He had been busier conjuring visions of death than of survival. “Drink something? I think we still had like half a bottle of iced tea in the fridge when I left, so I’ll drink all of that. I’ll take a warm one too, I don’t care.”

“Yeah. Or some coke. Even a nice shaken up soda.”

Mike hums in agreement. “And then I’d pop some pop tarts into the toaster while I drink. I could eat a whole carton.”

“And some chocolate.”

“Yeah, some chocolate. Some eggos. Fuck, I’d eat broccoli right now if that just meant I had something to eat.”

Will giggles.

“What?”

“I like broccoli.”

Mike puts his hand against Will’s cheek but doesn’t actually push him away, not even playfully. “You’re weird. Like so weird. You know that, right?”

Will smiles tightly but says nothing. Mike shakes his head, shuddering as his dead mouth remembers the taste of broccoli. Maybe he’ll take that back. It’d be the ultimate test of how hungry he really is if the choice was between broccoli and starvation.

Finally, Will says: “You’d just throw it all up again.”

“Did you?”

Will shakes his head. “They wouldn’t let me eat enough to throw it back up. But- I didn’t even want to eat that much. You stop being hungry after a while, even when there’s food again.”

Mike doesn’t know what to say. He wants to wrap his arms – wrap his whole body – around Will. Both to comfort him and to reassure himself that Will’s still there and breathing.

“Well, we’ll throw ourselves a feast and we’ll eat until we’re sick. They can’t stop both of us.”

Will laughs. He twists to the side, curling up towards Mike, and Mike feels thrilled by that simple movement. He can feel Will’s body shake across the mattress. Mike grins at him.

When he’s calmed down again, Will places his hand over where theirs rest intertwined on the mattress. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Mike gives him a smile. “Always.”

Will shakes his head. “That’s not- that’s bad self preservation.”

Mike shrugs.

“Mike-”

“I don’t care if we’re still fighting the Upside Down by the time we’re fifty, okay? We know about the dangers now so I’m not ever letting you deal with it on your own again. It’s really simple.”

Will smiles sadly, the tears back in his eyes. “You’ll have a wife and a family by the time you’re fifty. I don’t think they’ll like you running off to fight the Upside Down every time the Mindflayer rears its head.”

Mike is about to retort that he’d not leave Hawkins if he didn’t know the town would be safe, and so his future wife better know all about the Upside Down and fight it beside him, when Will’s phrasing gives him pause. He turns it over in his head for a quiet second, then says: “And you won’t?”

Will looks away but doesn’t turn. Yet.

When he doesn’t say anything, Mike says: “I know it looks like we’ve all figured it out already because we’ve had girlfriends, but it’s okay to be late to that.”

“Mike.”

“And I mean I think out of all of us girls like you the most. I mean Amanda Miller asked you to dance at the snowball. And Jennifer Hayes cried at your funeral. I’ve only ever been with El and we all know how that ended, don’t we?”

“Mike!”

“I’m just saying! Just because you haven’t figured out all your shit in High School doesn’t mean you’ll be single forever. Dating in college is gonna be much better anyway. Like, seriously, screw High School.”

Will squeezes his eyes shut, as if unhappy with the reassurance Mike was trying to give him. And Mike’s not sure why. Because that is the issue, right?

Will sighs as if he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say next. “I have my shit figured out, it’s just that-” He breaks off, looking away as he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“It’s just what?” Mike asks.

Will looks at him and then looks away again just as quickly. As if ashamed. And suddenly Mike understands. Will isn’t going to have a wife – or even just a girlfriend – because he doesn’t want one. Because what he wants-

“Oh.”

Will grimaces. “Yeah. Oh.”

“Hey,” Mike starts and then doesn’t know how to continue. What is he supposed to say to that? How is he supposed to make Will feel better? When he’s never even given much thought to it? Of course he knows that this is what the bullies said about Will, but to find out it’s true – it’s not a problem for him. He knows it can’t be, because it’s Will. And he could never have a problem with Will.

But there’s a queasy feeling in his stomach and Will looks close to tears again and they’re trapped here in the Upside Down together so he can’t even pretend to go to the bathroom to figure this out in private and instead has to readjust his worldview while Will watches on with those really, really sad Will Byers puppy-dog eyes and if Mike does anything wrong Will is going to be hurt even though he doesn’t want to hurt him because it’s Will and of course it’s alright with Mike that he’s-

“Mike?”

He closes his eyes. Exhales.

It’s alright with him. Does anything else matter right now?

He tries to give Will a smile. “It’s okay. You’re alright.”

“Yeah,” Will replies, not sounding like he believes it. “I’m alright.”

Mike scoots closer, squeezing Will’s hand. With his free one he brushes through Will’s hair. He’s not entirely sure why. It’s not a comfort they are used to giving each other, but it feels right.

“You are alright. It doesn’t matter to me. And it’s not going to matter to Lucas or Dustin or Max and El. Or your mom or Jonathan. Or anyone who’s important. And everyone else can go stick their opinion elsewhere.”

This time Will’s smile – his little laugh – is more genuine.

Mike lets his hand slip off Will a little. Pulls back until his palm is resting against Will’s cheek, cold and clammy. It’s there he freezes when the thought comes: How does Will know he wants to be kissing boys instead? Would it feel good? To kiss a boy?

To kiss Will?

“Mike?” Will sounds a little breathless, and for a second Mike worries he gave voice to those thoughts. But Will doesn’t look like he knows what Mike was thinking. Rather-

His pupils are blown wide. His mouth is open, his breath grazes Mike hotly.

Does Will want to kiss him?

For a second he can’t think or act as the possibility plays out in his mind. If the tension in his stomach is any indication he definitely wants to be kissing Will.

In the end all he can say is: “I have a bad idea.”

“Worse than standing too close to a gate and getting dragged into the Upside Down as it closes?”

Oh, he really wants to be kissing Will.

“Depends.” He scoots closer. Lets go of Will’s hand to properly cup his face. He’s so close that he can smell Will’s breath: Acidic and dry. Kinda bad.

He still wants to taste him, though.

“On what?” Will says, breathless.

Mike doesn’t say anything. Just meets his eyes.

Will swallows. Mike can feel him swallow, can feel the movement in his jaw. His eyes drop down to Will’s lips involuntarily.

Mike says nothing. Neither does Will. Somehow they take the last step together, though.

Will’s lips are dry against his. Not hard and unyielding, still soft, but there’s something of sandpaper in it. Cold sandpaper. And it doesn’t get much better when their mouths open. The bad breath translates to bad taste. There’s something sharp and metallic in there, and for a second Mike worries he’s split the tender, dry skin on Will’s lips by pressing in too hard. He pulls back to make sure there’s no blood, but Will’s lips are a pale, blueish purple, not red.

The kiss leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to care. Can’t bring himself to stop. Will sighs into the next kiss and it doesn’t matter that they both taste of death – it’s warm and it’s good and if the little bit of exertion didn’t have them both panting like they ran a marathon Mike wouldn’t want to stop at all. Will’s fingers tracing his face feel so nice and he’d much rather lose himself in this than in the dim exhaustion of starvation.

Even as they pull apart they don’t move far, and Mike’s grateful for that. He’s not sure he has enough life left in him to go chasing after Will.

“Verdict?” Will asks, quietly and still somewhat out of breath. He’s not meeting Mike’s eyes, afraid of the answer.

Mike tilts his head, pressing a third, short kiss against Will’s lips.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Mike says with a smile.

Will smiles back, first hesitantly, then unable to keep his joy inside of him. Mike knows the feeling. He presses another kiss to Will’s lips.

It’s bad, though. The bitter, acidic breath. The tang of cold metal.

He rolls onto his back a little, stretching out his arm behind Will’s head. Will accepts the invite without hesitation, scooting closer and putting his arms around Mike’s middle. They readjust the blankets. Cuddle up properly.

It’s the closest they could possibly be and still Mike doubts they’ll be warmed by it.

It only half matters, though. Because at least Will’s with him. At least they have this. Will starts tracing patterns onto Mike’s ribs. Mike starts playing with Will’s hair. They’re cold and hungry and somehow, briefly, content.

“Actually, I think the first thing I’ll do is brush my teeth,” Mike says after a while. “Second is going to be kissing you better.”

Will chuckles, the sound reverberating in Mike’s rib cage where his head is pressed against it.

They only have to wait for help to arrive.

View Collection on Ao3 > Next Prompt

[blushballerina]

Lana Del Rey's "Text Book" from Blue Bannisters: A Unique Interpretation

I wanted to share my take on one of my favorite songs from her album "Blue Bannisters," specifically the song "Text Book." While I've always had a soft spot for "Chemtrails Over the Country Club" and "Born to Die," this album and this song in particular have captivated me in a unique way. I've noticed that it doesn't always get the love it deserves, and I've developed a rather unconventional theory about it. Bear with me, as I present my interpretation of "Text Book" as a song possibly inspired by Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy.

I guess you could call it textbook - The term "textbook" here may refer to a history book or some form of new education, suggesting that the song is about a significant historical period.

I was looking for the father I wanted back - This line hints at Marilyn Monroe's lifelong quest to find her real father. Her mother, Gladys, concealed his identity from her, even going so far as to suggest that Clark Gable was her father, a notion young Norma Jean believed.

And I thought I found it in Brentwood - Marilyn owned a home in Brentwood, where she tragically passed away.

It seemed only appropriate you'd easily had my back - This could refer to John F. Kennedy, the most powerful man in America at the time, who should have protected Marilyn, either through a romantic involvement or by helping her with her mental health struggles.

And then there was the issue of her - Here, "her" could be JFK's wife, Jackie, or perhaps it's Norma Jean speaking about her Marilyn persona.

I didn't even like myself, or love the life I had - This line alludes to Marilyn's mental health issues and her constant yearning for a family and a baby.

And there you were with shinin' stars standin' blue with open arms - JFK is known for his blue suits and his "blue blood" image as a heroic figure in America.

You touched the detriment most of the friends I knew already had - Marilyn's relationships were often superficial, with men primarily interested in her for her physical attributes. Perhaps this line suggests that JFK's connection with her went beyond the surface.

You've got a Thunderbird, my daddy had one, too - Both Marilyn and JFK owned Thunderbird cars, though the meaning of this line is less clear.

Let's rewrite history, I'll do this dance with you - This line could signify a desire to go back and rewrite the past, possibly preventing the tragic fates of both Marilyn and JFK or even suggesting a desire for their reincarnation in today's society.

You know I'm not that girl, you know I'll never be - Marilyn, as Norma Jean, might be expressing that she's more than the public image of the "dumb blonde" on the silver screen.

Maybe just the way we're different could set me free - This could mean freedom from Marilyn's mental health issues or from the unhappiness of her life as Marilyn Monroe.

There we were, screamin', "Black Lives Matter" - Both JFK and Marilyn were advocates for civil rights in the 1960s.

In a crowd, by the Old Man River - "Old Man River" might symbolize the perpetual struggle for civil rights in the 1960s.

And I saw you saw who I am - Perhaps JFK truly saw Norma Jean and not just Marilyn.

God, I wish I was with my father - This line conveys Marilyn's longing to be with the father she never knew.

He could see us in all our splendor - Her idealized father would be proud of her and the love she found.

All the things I couldn't want for him - Marilyn wished for happiness for her father.

I screamed for them, oh, oh - Possibly a cry for JFK and Marilyn's lost love.

I screamed for them, ah-ah - The longing for a different outcome or for reincarnation.

Could we do this dance again? - A plea to live their lives over and over, correcting past mistakes.

Do you think if I go blonde we could get our old love back? - Wondering if JFK would love her as Norma Jean rather than Marilyn.

I guess this is really the end - Recognizing that JFK chose Jackie over her.

I never felt jealous before this year, but I'm jealous now - Jealousy that no one will ever truly see the real Norma Jean, no matter how close they get.

People say we're too much alike - Both were powerful figures in their respective fields, advocating for equal rights.

But maybe, finally, that'll make it right in the end - Suggesting that their shared characteristics might eventually lead to a just outcome.

Old Man River keeps rollin' - The ongoing struggle for civil rights.

With or without him - JFK contributed to the civil rights movement, but it remains a challenge even without his involvement.

Old Man River keeps rollin' - The ongoing struggle continues.

Without him, oh, my old man - The hope that progress will continue, even without JFK's direct influence.

In essence, "Text Book" may be a song that weaves together the perspectives of Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy, touching on their shared history, struggles, and the possibility of rewriting their story in a different era. It's a unique interpretation that adds an intriguing layer to Lana Del Rey's lyrical storytelling. What are your thoughts on this take?

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary420

11/17-18/24

sunday - monday

up too late, need to sleep soon.

and not a lick of drawing done. but that's okay. tomorrow, there is always tomorrow, today the thought of sundowning got put in my head, forgetting the sun comes up, that some people feel that dread. it is good i live my life as if tomorrow always comes, though, you never know i guess, you can die, or the world could end.

i was just reading some of my friend's poetry book he's working on, it is good, moving stuff. i thought earlier in the shower, how it's good to know people who are making art of any kind that is inspiring and interesting and jumps that little hurdle a lot of stuff made by people you know might have, where it is meaningful to you the way other things are, influences the way other things might, feels like it's doing something you feel strong and strange things about, i wonder if part of that is knowing, beyond the hard work of just doing it you know, the thought process laid out, even people who i don't talk to so much, when they make that available to read or something, although, in this example i am thinking of (i imagine eventually you will see this, if you think this is about you, it is (you always see these, eventually)), their work was rather interesting to me pre ever seeing/knowing, but still the thought put into things, beside the work, ultimately though i'm not sure. i guess i just tend to like certain things, and i've found people who make those things, and i am happy for it.

i watched 2 more alan clarke films today, scum and the firm. those are both insane films, i seriously don't know what to say about them honestly. one is about pig brutality, oppressed youth, the 2nd is about nationalism in britain via football hooliganism and its transposition up into middle classes kind of... really insane film that feels harder to parse than scum. it's such a pointed image at the end though, a huge cluster of men now joined together by a dead man, a ritual sacrifice almost, wearing german folk dress (brings to mind the notion of the 'volk') with the union jack printed all over, their country's colors. a hideous image. utterly strange film. it's not like he hates football, it's about this insane social apparatus, even at the end there's this ad lib one of the actors did, if it weren't football, we'd do it over boxing, snooker, anything, because we want to. it's almost like they don't give a shit about football anymore, it's just this thing that gives you access to violence, and that violence is a bonding thing and a way to gain a buzz. again, it feels like those negative forces, violent pulsions, cruelty, the need to destroy and waste, put to use, as bataille might put it. it's insane to see in clarke's films this feeling that he articulates theory like that in the texts of his films but maybe that's just the plays he is adapting being genius. or he and the plays are genius, cooperating in that way. in scum, we see along multiple lines the racism, classism, and the cooperation of the pigs and the boys in the borstal in criminal enterprise, and this too occurs on racial lines, thus making everything, not complex i suppose, it's plainly obvious, the horror of the state, but the complicity of the state in inventing these situations, and especially in the case of the criminality, that there is an acceptable and useful criminality that the state seeks out because it can be used / manipulated / attenuated as a type of valve for, not transgression though maybe in part it is the transgression that refers back to the law / needs the law (always transgression does, this is its rule, its fact), but i guess it isn't a valve, it is useful because the state can gain benefit from it, capital disciplinary, as in, in this alternate hierarchy, there is a chain of command and if they have access to the head, they have a point from which to operate, just as well, with the head underneath them, they have a particularly anxious individual in their pocket, as he always must prove to others what he is and remain useful to them to no receive infraction, as always as they are on top, and are aware, though pretend to not be (and by pretending to not be, they can wrangle more 'trouble' in whatever aftermath appears by what they turn blind eyes to (often this can be used to impose racist desires upon others)), they remain in control, it is another valve for control i suppose.

but yes, complicated and odd films, or complex if you look, or think in these ways but in truth they're very obvious and if one wants to see these ideas in action, in an approachable way, i think honestly they are incredible primers for this sort of reading. or perhaps mid-points or capstones, they demonstrate it to you, give you a sense of it, by illustrating this reality, the potential for some way out, as begged for in road, appears perhaps. in scum, certainly, there is a scene of collective action, and it made me tear up. how strange it is that his films work like that.

okay...what else. i did some writing today, a good idea came to me, so i did it... that feels good, and i finished that song, for that contest, of course no winner but here it is:

guitars are a little shaky, um, that's okay, my voice too since i'm not screaming it's been a while since i've done delivery like this. very fun though, i liked doing the bit of writing for the lyrics when i did this last night, iterating very quickly on the ideas i was having, that felt good, like learning how to run. it always does when i work like this.

this week's theme was sex songs, so this is a sex song basically. not really a happy one but, oh well, who cares.

okay now i;m watching some stupid video about slop... what ever... i just need to sleep,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[geekkatsblog]

Things the batfamily have done after being woken up too early. (Headcannons)

Because we all know the bats would sleep though the day if they could. They're literally up all night kicking criminals asses. Everyone's sleep deprived.

Dick

He's actually the only bat who doesn't mind being woken up early. He likes the morning. It's the only time no one can judge his overindulgence for cereal.

Jason

Tried to throw Roy out of the window of his apartment because he was using the microwave and the beeping woke him up. Jason got out of bed and literally threw the microwave out the window. But the day after he ended up feeling bad and brought a new silent microwave to replace the old one, he damaged.

Shot two bullets at Tim who had only come because he'd forgotten his laptop at Jason's apartment. Jason was still sleepy so his aim was a little sloppy, the first one narrowly missed Tim but he ended up grazing him with the next one. Which was how Bruce ended up switching his bullets with rubber ones. He always manages to replace them without Jason knowing and eventually just gave up trying to stop him. Watching the criminals curl up in pain from the bullet hitting them was much more fun anyway.

Tim

Sleeps like the dead, the only way he will wake up is if the person has a fresh cup of strong coffee waiting for him, the smell alone will lighten his sleep. He once managed to sleep though an entire kidnapping at the manor. The kidnappers swiped Damian from right under his nose while Tim slept peacefully. Damian still hasn't let it go 2 years later.

Damian

He didn't have a problem the first year, when he moved into the manor. He slept like if he was in a coffin successfully scaring the crap out of everyone and making them avoid his room in the mornings.

Threw a dagger at Bruce when he tried to wake him up for school. His actions caused Bruce to enforce the rule of no weapons being allowed to leave the batcave unless it's an emergency or it's time for patrol.

Cassandra

Where does she sleep? no one knows by the time anyone can try to wake her up, she's disappeared. Sometime in the middle of the night, Cassie manages to hide and finish her rest undisturbed no one has figured out that she sleeps in her laundry basket to avoid people waking her up.

Duke

Threw an alarm clock directly at the victim's head it broke and the person ended up with a mild concussion. Jason (the victim) had to spend a week of the manor with everyone doting over him. He'd sooner die for the 2nd time than admit he enjoyed it.

Duke in a sleep haze one offered the person waking him up the secret identity of Batman if they would just let him sleep for an extra half an hour. Needless to say Bruce almost flipped out and Duke was forced to do extra endurance training for a month.

Stephanie

Threw a bottle of nail polish at Dick who wanted to wake her up and be the first to wish her a happy birthday. The nail polish bottle wasn't capped tightly enough and the sparkly purple paint landed right in Dick's head. He legit cried when he had to shave off all of his hair and start from scratch..

Bruce

Once Clark tried to wake him up for an emergency Justice League meeting. Bruce staggered out of bed down to the cave and returned with a Kryptonite glove and decked the crap out of Clark, since then Clark would rather watch Bruce sleep and wait for him to wake up before he tries to disturb the man's sleep again. To Bruce the staring is creepy, but atleast he gets to sleep.

In attempt to prank Bruce Jason was all ready to draw on the man's face and body with sharpies when Bruce suddenly got the upper hand and hugged him in his sleep. Jason had to stay there for a whole hour cuddling with Bruce while the older man slept. Jason claims the whole ordeal was more traumatizing than the Joker beating him with a crow bar and blowing him up but Bruce knows better. He and Jason used to cuddle up all the time whenever the boy was sick, had a nightmare or just needed to feel safe and Jason loved it then, plus there's the fact that Bruce was pretty sure Jason would have been able to escape his grip at any time.

Alfred is not involved because no one can touch him.

Last one was inspired by a comic I read where Jason was sick and Bruce sat on the couch and watched tv with him.

And I'm still upset about the whole Ric story arc so I made up another explanation for why he cut his hair. (Forgive me I have problems.

[karanna1]

AU - Lena Luthor Saves Krypton

Lena is somehow sent back in time and finds herself on Krypton 30 years before the planet explodes. Kara doesn’t exist yet. Krypton has no idea what’s about to happen to them.

Lena realizes that with her knowledge of what’s to come and intellect to devise a solution, she can do two things. One, she can save an entire species from near extinction. Two, she can save Kara from ever having to experience the pain of losing her family, her home, and being abandoned. Kara could live a happy life and never know the burden of Supergirl or being the last daughter of Krypton.

So instead of trying to find a way back to Earth, back to her own time, she settles into life on Krypton, becomes fluent in Kryptonese, and sets about with a spectacularly single-minded focus of changing the future - to save this dying world (and Kara).

She succeeds...mostly. They can’t fix the damage that’s already been done to the planet. Their sun will die and destroy Krypton still, but with Lena’s help they’re able to locate a barren planet in another system that has a white star. It’s brand new, strong, and will live for untold trillions of years (provided Kryptonians didn’t try to harness its power again).

They terraform the planet and create “New Krypton” using the dome concept that Zor-El invented fused with Coluan bottling technology. All Kryptonians are instantly transported to their new home that’s identical to the old one save for one difference - the white sun grants them god-like powers that are beyond what Lena ever saw Kara and Clark capable of on Earth. Kryptonians are overwhelmed en masse by these powers. Some go power mad and attempt coups and form radical sects. Others realize the gift they’ve been given and, with Lena’s guidance, Kryptonian society develops under a new mission - to travel the galaxy and offer help to all those in need. Not just offering knowledge and technology this time, but themselves with their newfound powers.

Lena keeps her distance from the House of El as much as she can. It’s nearly impossible considering their standing with the Kryptonian High Council. Lena has to work very closely with the Council. Jor-El and his brother, Zor-El, are brilliant scientists and statesmen. Alura In-Ze is a rising star in the judicial system. Her marriage to Zor-El, second born son of the House of El, caused quite a few waves, but when Lara Lor-Van, a brilliant biologist and prominent noble of the House of Van, agrees to marry Jor-El, it’s all anyone can talk about. All 4 of them live very public lives due to their professions, their positions on the High Council, and their nobility.

They’re ever so fascinated by Lena Luthor, the human from Earth that appeared one day to save their entire planet. Their savior. The one their people have named “The New Dawn”. Lena wants nothing to do with the House of El. It’s too much. She can’t bear to be so close to Kara’s family without Kara. It feels wrong. Unfortunately, with how much Lena tries to avoid them, the 4 nobles think they’ve done something to offend her, and constantly attempt ways to make amends. It only makes Lena’s life that much more difficult.

But she still knows the exact date and time that Kara Zor-El steps into existence. Later, she will know the moment Kal-El is born (mostly because Lara’s natural birth is all anyone can talk about).

Lena meets Kara on New Krypton entirely by accident one day when Zor-El brings his brilliant young daughter, a prodigy in the Science Guild, to see Krypton’s finest laboratory entirely unannounced. The same laboratory that Lena founded and runs. She’s stricken, having tried to avoid this moment for as long as she could, knowing that eventually she’d have to see Kara as child, which would spell the end of every fanciful dream or slightest hope she had of a chance that someday she would find Kara, her best friend, again. Seeing the reality both warms her heart and breaks it all the same. This bouncing bundle of joy and inquisitiveness has the same blinding smile, in all its purity, with that same head of golden hair.

“You’re THE Lena Luthor?”

She kneels before her so they’re at eye level. “I suppose I am. And you’re THE Kara Zor-El?”

The ten year old gasps. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. I know all the important people. And you are a very important person, Kara.”

“I am?”

Zor-El interjects. “I’ve told Lena all about you, my dear. I’m sure she’s grown tired of my endless babbling about my wonderful daughter and her keen scientific mind.”

“Not at all,” Lena replies a bit flatly and tries to tune him out as she focuses on the young girl who will one day be a most extraordinary woman. “Do you enjoy the Science Guild, Kara?”

“Yes! I love to learn new things. As many things as I can! Sometimes father asks me to work with him in his laboratory at home and I help him with his projects!”

“That does sound like fun. I enjoy creating things as well.”

“You’re the most brilliant bio-engineer on Krypton! I’ve read all about you! You saved us.”

Lena shies away from the praise and instead fumbles her way forward, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Zor-El, whom she’d never given the time of day until he walked in with his daughter.

“Tell me, Kara, do you like other subjects besides science?”

Kara fidgets, a little confused. “Well, I don’t...they don’t give you much time for other subjects. I-I do try to read about other things like art and history when I have free time, but I’m not really allowed—“

“She’s a hard worker and a wonderful student,” Zor-El interrupts again.

Lena ignores him. “Do you enjoy writing, Kara?”

“Writing?”

“Creation comes in many forms. I enjoy being able to create things with my hands. Machines. Technology. Things to help people. Science is my passion, but there are many other ways to help people. Ways that I’m not very good at, but others are. Writing takes a curious mind, creativity, and a way with words. I believe you might have a gift for that.”

“A gift for words?” Her little brow crinkles as she considers it.

Lena nods. “A writer can do a great many things that a scientist cannot. They are equally as powerful and important. What matters is doing what you love most, what inspires you most. You’re going to do great things one day, Kara. Maybe with the Science Guild, maybe with something else... The future is limitless for you.”

“You really think I could be that important someday?”

“You already are.” Lena smiles and breathes deeply. “Do you know what your name means where I come from?”

She shakes her head. “I have read about Earth. It’s very far away and my Aunt Astra says their civilization is primitive and filled with savages. They have my name there too?”

“Daughter, do not speak—“

Lena waves off Zor-El’s warning without looking at him.

“That’s not an unfair assessment of Earth compared to Krypton, but I do believe humanity would surprise a great many Kryptonians, including your Aunt. In my native language, Kara means ‘beloved friend’.”

Kara beams in a way that is so achingly familiar. It’s like an echo in Lena’s memory. Not exact, not complete, but the beginning of what it will become.

“I like that. Does that mean I’m your friend?”

Lena feels it in that moment. The melting warmth simultaneous with the absolute shattering of what was left of her heart.

“I will always be your friend, darling. Always.”

Kara leaves with her father and Lena’s coworkers are concerned when she goes off planet for an impromptu holiday without notice. She returns two months later and picks up as if she never left.

It’s around that time that one of the people she’s befriended in her years on Krypton remarks at how ageless she seems for a human that supposedly has a short life span. It sparks Lena’s curiosity. Indeed, it’s been nearly 30 years since she traveled back in time and found herself on a new planet. Yet you’d be hard pressed to find a single physical difference. Kryptonians aged slowly under a red star, and even slower still under the white star, but Lena was human. Her body wasn’t designed to accommodate solar radiation the way Kryptonians did. She was over 50 years old now, yet she still didn’t look a day over 28.

More years pass and New Krypton thrives. The galaxy is brought together through New Krypton’s diplomacy and thousands of planets and species are united under a banner of peace. There are always dissenters, but happiness and prosperity is widespread. Lena finds joy in friendships and attempts romantic relationships, but nothing ever really takes. Still, she’s content. She misses Earth, of course, and hopes to return one day before she dies, whenever that will be, but she’s found peace in knowing that she is able to be the one thing she’s always wanted - a force for good.

She’s at dinner with coworkers one night when Lara and Jor-El spot her. She sighs and straightens, preparing for their next attempt to get in her good graces.

“Do they never desist?” One of them mutters next to her ear. “Surely they’re intelligent enough to know when they’re not wanted?”

“Don’t be unkind, but help me keep it short if it goes on too long.”

“Lena! It’s wonderful to see you,” Lara says.

“You as well. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Lena’s table has gone conspicuously, and therefore awkwardly, silent.

Lara and Jor-El look around at the group uncomfortably.

“We were wondering...well, our niece is being inducted to the—“

“The Science Council as First Order,” Lena finishes for her. “Yes, I’m aware. It’s a great honor. I’m sure the House of El is quite proud.”

“Indeed we are,” Jor-El jumps in. “She’s a most remarkable young woman and we couldn’t be prouder of who she’s become.”

“We are holding a celebration to mark the occasion and were wondering if you might honor us by attending? It will be quite the event.” Lara does a slight eyeroll. “Jor is insisting on all the fantastical things.”

Jor-El nods enthusiastically. “My brother isn’t one for celebrations so I’ve taken up the mantle. Kara deserves all the praise she’s earned with her hard work and dedication.”

“You’ll have to forgive my mate’s enthusiasm. He’s quite invested in Kara since she can share his passion for his life’s work while our son is—“

“Disgustingly hopeless,” Jor-El grumbles.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “A great disappointment he’s been then?”

“Goodness no!” Lara shakes her head and shoots a warning look at her husband. “Kal is a fine boy. Just...a little lost.”

“Perhaps he is simply in need of a different path than the one his father has in mind,” Lena finds the words tumbling out of her mouth without thinking twice. The couple stares at her agape, but she continues without care. “I can certainly sympathize with the need to step out of the shadow of a family’s overbearing legacy.” She sighs. “While I thank you for considering me, it’s simply not possible with my days usually booked from dawn to dusk. Besides, parties have never been altogether pleasant endeavors for me.”

The disappointment on their faces isn’t what changes her mind. It’s that as soon as she says the words, she regrets it. She’s, of course, kept up with Kara’s doings and was concerned when she heard about the recent move in the Science Guild. Was journalism just a secondary passion since she couldn’t truly use her mind on Earth the way she could on Krypton? Or was this a woman just following in her family’s footsteps because she believed it was the right thing to do? Lena hadn’t seen or spoken to Kara in 16 years. Not since the day Zor-El brought her to the lab.

In the end, it’s Lena’s concern and curiosity for Kara’s well being that wins out. Though she very well knows that the woman that existed in another life, on another planet, is not the woman who lives here now on New Krypton. Even if she shared the same name and the same face...maybe even the same bright eyes and sunny smile. Even then.

“Send me the invitation. I’ll see what I can do,” Lena says, to the surprise of everyone at her table, including the two standing next to it.

They nod, stunned but pleased, and say their goodbyes quickly, walking away.

Lena’s coworkers all turn to her in surprise, but she refuses to answer their questions and excuses herself early for the evening.

She doesn’t show for the celebration. She torments herself for a week coming up to it and can’t bring herself to go. The fear of the past and her memories being trod upon are too strong. But somehow she finds herself in the Starling Grove anyway, just as it comes to an end. The evening is late and guests slowly make their exit after the long day of partying. Lena practically sneaks in, staying in shadows, not knowing what she hopes to find or what she could see that would make all her fears come true.

Is it any wonder that fate would intervene? That there would be no circumstance in which Lena could fly so close to the sun and not be touched?

“If avoiding people is your specialty, you’re very skilled at it.”

It’s almost terrifying to hear her voice again. It’s a different language being spoken, but the voice is the same. As if it’d been snatched from the deepest recesses of Lena’s memories, of a different life and a different world, and brought to the present in flesh and blood with a bolt of lightning.

She turns and it’s Kara smiling at her. Not the sunny smile. The soft, tender, reassuring one. The one that she used to share with Lena when she had one of her harder days. Kara was no longer the small and precocious child she met all those years ago, the one that she could almost convince herself was a complete stranger and that there was no connection between the child and the woman she knew. But that was gone now. The Kara standing before her was the same one she’d left behind on Earth. The one she’d given up in order to save her. The one who walked into her office so many years ago, trailing behind her cousin, and Lena knew she was done for. 

Her eyes were so blue as she looked at her...bluer than Lena remembered and it seemed so impossible. Perhaps it wasn’t real. Perhaps she was dreaming. But she wasn’t...was she?

“My skills must be rusty since you were able to catch me.”

Kara put a finger to her smiling lips. “Shh. Finding people is one of my untold gifts.”

“I imagine you have a lot of those.”

Kara looks pleasantly flustered and she stammers over her words in a way that Lena knows so well that the sound of it squeezes her heart in a vise like grip.

She’s not the same person. She’s not your Kara. Your Kara doesn’t exist anymore. Over and over she repeats this in her head.

“Wait...” Kara finally collects herself and peers at Lena more closely. “You’re-you’re Lena Luthor! My Uncle said you might be here, but I never thought...”

“On my home world, they like to say it’s fashionable to be late. However, tonight was just a tad bit too far. I...I simply wanted to stop by and wish you well. A-and to congratulate you on your achievement.”

Did she manage to say that with any passing conviction?

“Thank you. That means a great deal coming from someone like you.”

“Are you happy?” She blurts before her good sense can kick in. “This life...does it make you happy?”

Kara looks at her oddly for a long moment, clearly thrown, but not put off. Lena doesn’t know what else to say that could fix her blunder. 

“Yes,” she says, a serene smile creeps across her face. “I’m very happy. I love my family and my friends. I enjoy my work. I hope to have a family of my own one day, but I don’t mind waiting for the right person. Everyone always wants to rush me into something, telling me that I shouldn’t be alone, but I don’t mind it. When it’s right, I know that it will be worth the wait.”

Lena’s heart stutters and freezes. “I-I’m glad to hear that. Truly. I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time though. I’m sure you have somewhere to be and it’s late so I really should be going anyway.”

“Oh! Um. Yes, of course.” She looks disappointed, but Lena can’t think about that. “Thank you for being here.”

Her legs feel as though they’re weighted with cement as she walks away. Her mind screams at her to run, but her body doesn’t seem to get the message. She doesn’t want to leave Kara’s side. Not like this. Not after she’s found her again.

But it’s not her. Not really.

“My Lady?”

She turns around at once. Kara stands there, fiddling with her hands, her head tilted to the side.

“Apologies. I-I remember reading that you never liked that title. You prefer...what was it...” She closes her eyes as she searches for it. “Oh!” Her eyes fly open again. “Miss Luthor. I should have addressed you as ‘Miss Luthor’, yes?”

The ‘Miss’ was heavily accented and sounded nothing like how she used to say it, but it still tore Lena apart.

“I never forgot what you said.”

The voice in Lena’s head screams again for her to run, but instead she draws closer. She needs to hear it. 

Her Kara.

No, it’s not her.

“What did I say?”

“I was a little girl. My father brought me to your lab to show me around.”

“I remember.”

Don’t let her do this. Don’t let her pull you in again. You can’t. For both of your sakes, you can’t.

“You talked about different ways of creating. Of passion. It’s silly, I know, and I’m sure you say it to all the children who read about you in school and have a serious case of hero worship, but...you told me I was important.”

“You are.” 

It’s a reflex. She can’t help it.

“And you said that I had a gift for words. I never understood why you would say that. How you could know...”

Lena chuckles awkwardly. “Looks like I was off the mark since you’ve just joined the Science Council.”

“But you weren’t.”

Lena’s breath hitches.

“I’ve never told anyone else this...” 

Kara steps closer, sharing a secret that Lena doesn’t know she deserves to hear. She wonders if she still knows how to breathe with Kara being this close after so long...so many years gone... 

“I started writing that day. That very night I went home and I tried it. I never stopped. I’ve never been happier than when I’m writing. Imagining stories or just writing my thoughts, putting memories into words, keeping a record of each day and what I’ve done, who I’ve seen, what my first thought is in the morning and my last thought at night. All of it.”

Kara was so close. She could smell her. Nothing like what she remembered. It was something altogether new and still...still... Lena’s heart beat so loudly, she was sure every Kryptonian within miles was wondering what that raucous drumming noise was. What must Kara think? Surely she could hear it. Lena was embarrassing herself.

“You inspired me.”

Lena doesn’t know how she manages it, but she somehow strings together coherent words. 

“But you continued to pursue...”

“The Science Guild, yes. I’m very good there. It comes easily. It makes my family proud.”

“It’s not your passion though.”

Kara shakes her head gently.

“What stops you?”

“Well, what if I’m not really good at writing after all? I’ve never told anyone about it. I’ve never let them read anything... What if I make a terrible mistake and humiliate myself and my family?”

“Following your heart isn’t a mistake.”

“That’s not a very Kryptonian sentiment.”

“No, but it is a human one.” Lena sighs. “I tried so hard, for so long, not to listen to mine. But it won out every time. Despite all the pain it brought me...I remind myself that it’s what brought me here. To this planet. To this time. To do good. To be good. Following your heart is the most terrifying notion, but in my experience, it has also led me to the greatest moments of joy and love that I’ve ever known.”

Kara stares at her in wonderment. Her long blonde locks flow over her shoulders. Her dress is white and flowing, almost luminescent under the glow of the evening flowers blooming in the garden. It became quickly apparent how very alone they were, the last guests and servers from the party were gone. The torches were still lit, but it was their own world.

Wasn’t it always?

It’s not her.

“I don’t think I could be as brave as you.”

“You have always been brave and I know that you are capable of the most extraordinary amount of courage...courage and boundless hope. You are the one who inspires me, Kara. You always have.”

“Me?” She replies in the softest utterance. “But I haven’t done anything nearly as incredible as you.”

“The kind of person you are is far more important than any sum of career achievements. Don’t let fear make you hide in the shadows, Kara. Step into the sun. You’ve always belonged there.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“When will you step out of the shadows, Miss Luthor?”

A voice calls for Kara in the distance. It’s jarring and breaks the spell that seemed to lock them together in time suspended.

They step away, now acutely aware of how close they’d been this whole time.

Kara blushes and opens her mouth to say something, but Lena can’t bear to hear it.

“Goodnight, Kara Zor-El. I hope you enjoyed your party.”

Another voice joins the first. Two people are calling for her now. Kara seems frustrated and turns back, yelling to them that she’d be there soon.

She turns back. “I—“

But Lena’s gone.

She leaves New Krypton again. Journeys to other planets under the guise of a holiday and scientific exploration. She wonders if now is the time to return to Earth. She can’t even call it home anymore, but it’s home...isn’t it? 45 years could be enough to make New Krypton home and maybe it was. Maybe it was more of a home than Earth. But New Krypton had spectres walking among the living. Lena’s past had caught up to her here as well. She was no longer alone. Would Earth be any better with a reminder at every street corner? A certain smell. A park bench. A pair of glasses. Food. All of the food on Earth. She would never truly escape there either. It has to be a different planet. Not New Krypton, not Earth, something else entirely. 

She searches across galaxies for it. Finally, one appeals to her. She can see herself settling down there. She can make a new life for herself...again. She returns to Krypton with determination. She resigns from her position, ignores the High Council’s pleas, ignores their more pointed demands, and even their attempted orders when it appeared that nothing else was working. She packs her things and bids farewell to her friends. They’ll visit now and again, but soon she won’t be seeing them at all. It doesn’t bother her all that much. She’d find replacements eventually. No one had ever been like... Well, she’d never let anyone get close enough to try.

She was walking out of her building for the last time, her luggage already sent ahead, and was headed to the transport when she heard her voice again on the wind, calling her name. Of course she would hear her now. This was exactly why she needed to leave this place. The sooner the better to end this torment.

The transport doors were nearly closed when a hand shot between them. The metal alloys were crushed in a powerful grip and the doors were jerkily pried open again.

Kara stood in front of her. Her hair windswept, almost what it used to look like when she would fly to Lena at breaking speed to rescue her. Did she fly here? Was she really here?

“Kara?”

“Lena, don’t go.”

“What are y—?”

“That’s government property!” someone shouts at Kara from further away. 

A Kelex zooms in beside her. “And you were flying within city limits which is strictly prohibited. Unfortunately, Lady Kara, this means we must place you under arrest.”

A patrolman, the one who shouted, walks up behind Kara, nodding his head in agreement.

“Arrest?” She rolls her eyes at the Kelex and turns to the patrolman. “The doors were an accident and sorry about the flying thing. I’ll pay the fines. I doubt Alura In-Ze will take kindly to you dragging someone in for petty infarctions, let alone that someone being her daughter.”

Lena finds herself walking out of the transport, entirely of her own volition, and watches it leave without her. Kara is arguing with the patrolman over what her fines should be, but suddenly Lena feels someone take her hand. She looks down and sees that indeed there is another hand holding hers. She drags her gaze up to find those blue eyes again. A ghost. A spectre. Everything she was trying to escape.

“I’m sorry to just...burst in on you like this. But you’ve been gone for months and I only just heard that you’d come back, planning to leave New Krypton for good. I didn’t...”

“You didn’t what?”

“I don’t know.” Her brow furrows in frustration. “I didn’t plan this. I just...when I heard, I felt like I had to stop you.”

Lena pulls her hand away and crosses her arms. She needs to get ahold of herself. This was all so out of control.

“Why?”

Kara is just as bewildered as she is. “Well, I...I’m not sure. But we’ve only just started.”

“What?”

“Don’t you feel it? I know you must.”

She swallows thickly. “Kara, I...”

“I think there’s a lot you haven’t told me. A lot that I hope you will tell me. You promised me once that you would always be my friend. Please, Lena. We both know that this...it’s not supposed to end here.”

“When is it supposed to end?”

“I hope not for very long time.”

“I’ve lived a lifetime already.”

Kara grins. “Then what’s one more? Should be easy if you’ve already done it.”

Lena shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Somehow I do...and I don’t. I know it’s strange. I know what I sound like. But I think you understand. Don’t you?”

“Kara...”

“Are you hungry?” She interrupts. “I’m famished. The flying thing is really fun, but I always get so hungry after. How about it?”

“I’m supposed to be boarding a ship in 20 minutes.”

“We can eat fast!”

“I know you can eat fast, that’s not the point,” she mutters. “I have to go.”

“But you see? You say things like that. Like it’s normal to just know these things about me, but it’s not. How do you know? We’ve only met twice and both times it feels as though you know everything about me.”

“Everything?” She scoffs. “No. Never.”

“Well, the important things anyway.”

Lena falters.

“Please? Just...for a little while? There’s always another ship if you really must go.”

No.

No, I’ve been through this before. I saved you. I saved your people. You’re happy. I don’t belong here. I’ve never belonged. This is your world. I don’t belong anywhere. I did what was right. I helped people. I still help people. But I won’t do this again.

“I’m pretty sure you know that a Kryptonian can tell when you’re lying. The white star brought us untold abilities. And the longer I’ve lived here, under this new sun, I’ve discovered more abilities. Would you like to know about them?”

Lena can only stare.

“If I’m close enough...and I concentrate hard enough...I can feel what you’re feeling. It’s not mind reading exactly, but something deeper. I can feel you right now.” She swallows hard. “What have I done to cause you such pain, Lena? I never thought that... If you have to go, I won’t stop you. I just thought...” She sighs defeatedly. “I don’t know what I thought. But it wasn’t this. It wasn’t pain. Or anger. Or betrayal.”

Lena’s eyes widen at the same time as Kara’s. She seemed to realize it only as she spoke the word aloud.

“Betrayal?” Kara whispers, half to herself. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t! Tell me what’s happening. How can you be so angry with me, but also feel...like this...when we don’t even know each other?”

“But we do.” 

At last she admits it. 

In the quietest whisper. 

“We did. Once. In another life.”

Kara nods slowly. “Where?”

“On Earth.”

“I’ve never been to Earth.”

“Not in this time. But in another...you were Earth’s Champion. Our Protector. The Paragon of Hope.”

“As you are the Protector of Krypton? Our Salvation. The New Dawn.”

Lena shrinks uncomfortably under the titles.

“Will you tell me more?”

“You believe me?”

“Of course I do. You’re Lena Luthor. Also, with my powers I can sense you’re telling the truth, so...” She shrugs lightly at that, a sheepish smile.

“Right. Well, I admit I’m still a bit resentful that after everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t get even a hint of those powers.”

Kara takes her hand again, tentatively this time. She probably thinks Lena will pull away.

She doesn’t.

“There’s been a rumor for ages that you’re immortal. Are you saying that’s not true? From what I’ve read, humans have a shorter life span than us. Your species only live about 85 years or so.”

“I’ve heard the rumor and, yes, the average human lifespan is shorter than a Kryptonian’s.”

“You look pretty darn good for your age if you’re preparing to join Rao in a few cycles.”

Lena has to laugh. She lets Kara lead her away from the platform and down to the street. They walk hand in hand.

“So you’re not immortal?”

“It remains to be seen.”

“Then maybe our white sun did give you a hint of something after all.”

“Maybe. I have yet to ascertain the cause.”

“I could help you with your study, should you choose to explore it further.”

“You want to study me?”

Kara blushes. “I...I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant—“

“I know what you meant.”

Silence falls between them.

“You’re still holding my hand.”

“You’re still letting me.”

“It’s strange.” She stares. “You’re different. You’re so different than you were before, a completely different person, but somehow...when I look at you, you’re exactly who you’ve always been.”

“Are you different now too?”

“Yes.” She shrugs. “I think so anyway.”

“But we’ve still found each other. That means something.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? You might be angry with me. I...I made choices that changed your life. A great number of lives.”

“I want to hear everything. But even if I do get angry, I won’t leave. I promise.”

Lena starts at that. How could she know exactly—? The realization hits her. 

“My fears...you feel them right now, don’t you?”

Kara nods. “I won’t betray you, Lena. Whatever mistakes I’ve made before...in that other life...I won’t make them again.”

“You’ll make other mistakes.”

“Of course!” She laughs. “I’m gifted, but hardly perfect. You’ll make mistakes too, even if you are the Great New Dawn.”

“Two prodigies...” Lena raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know how people stand us. We must be insufferable to be around.”

“I can’t be held accountable for the jealousy of others.”

Lena chuckles. “Good to know you’re as competitive as ever.”

“And you? Are you competitive as well?”

“On occasion...when it comes to the right things.”

Kara grins. “Tell me more about Earth.”

“Earth or...you on Earth?”

“Both. Or just one. Whatever you like. We have all the time we need. We’ll get to it eventually.”

“Kara?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Of losing you? Yes, I’m afraid. I thought I did when you left me in the Grove that night.”

“It’s different this time though.”

“Different how?”

“You were afraid before. O-on Earth. So you lied to me. Hid things from me. You were afraid I’d reject you.”

“So I lost you anyway?”

“For a while.”

“I know who I am and I want to share all of that with you. I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I don’t. Do you think that means I learned my lesson with a second chance?”

“Even though you don’t remember the first?”

Kara tilts her head thoughtfully.  “Are you familiar with the theological concept of reincarnation?”

Lena nods.

“Many species and cultures detail it differently, but the belief that a soul does not reside in an afterlife fascinates me. The idea that one could instead be reborn and is destined to learn new lessons with each life that it failed to learn in the last. Maybe we found a way to do that without needing to die at all.”

“Are you sure you’re the First Order of the Science Council? Because that sounds an awful lot like preaching I’ve heard from the Religious Guild. You’re in the wrong profession.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “If anything, I should have joined the Artisans. But it’s too late for that.”

Lena’s quiet for a moment. They’re walking along streets she’s never seen before and doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.

“I think I’m learning...” she says softly, “that it’s never too late. If you want something enough, it’s never too late.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Lena looks around. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No, I thought you did.”

“No. I guess we’re lost then.”

Kara shrugs with a charming, sunny smile that lights her whole face. It’s the one that Lena hasn’t seen in over 40 years and it takes her breath away.

“Oh well.” Kara squeezes Lena’s hand happily. “I suppose we’ll find our way together.”

[topazy]

The Fierce And Broken

2.06

Masterlist

You stepped back and stared at Raven speechless, even in the darkness you could tell she was blushing. Did she regret kissing you? You hoped not.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done that. Now I’ve made things weird between us-”

Now it was your turn to cut her off. You pressed your lips against hers, she kissed you back and you remained like that until you pulled away to catch your breath.

“Um...I suppose we should go to bed,” Raven said in a soft chuckle.

“Yeah it’s late, and I imagine you need to rest that brain of yours.”

Raven flopped down onto the bed, “you have no idea.”

—

Tracking a person down in a small camp was surprisingly hard. You were about to give up when you heard Abby’s voice. “And where's Marcus now? Imprisoned still? You're just going to leave him there? Like the kids in Mount Weather? If we run, who's going to rescue them?”

“You weren’t there, Abby. I saw them. Warriors trained since childhood to fight and die for their cause. As we speak, they are marching on this camp. And trust me when I tell you, the right choice is to live, so that we can come back and fight another day.”

“Inspirational words from a man who sent children to their deaths,” you ignored the look on Jaha’s face and looked directly at Abby. “Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to tell you I’m accepting your offer. I’ll train with you.”

A smile spread across the doctors face, “good. I’m so glad you are taking this opportunity, your father would be so proud.”

You frowned at her comment and left the room not interested in the deceit of it all. None of the adults who came from the ark cared about anybody else expect from themselves or their children, you could understand that but not the acting like one happy family.

—

“Hey,” you whispered entering the tent.

Raven let out a groan before sitting up, “what time is it?”

“Early, very early.” You crawled onto the bed and laid down face first. “Nothing new has happened since last night.”

“Can I ask you something?” Raven sounded nervous. You turned to face her and nodded. “Last night...that kiss... I didn’t weird you out did I?”

“No, that’s why I kissed you back.”

She smiled at your comment. You knew it must be hard for Raven to try and avoid any awkwardness around the situation. “Good, because I was afraid you wouldn’t have kissed me back.” Her confession took you by surprise. “I think you are amazing Alba, I really do-” she paused for a moment trying to find the right words. “Me and Finn are over, but a part of me is still hurting and I don’t want to use you as a rebound. I’ve already made that mistake with Bellamy and you are to import for me to risk it.”

“I’m happy being friends if you are?” Truthfully you were a little disappointed, but you admired her honesty.

The brunette let out a frustrated sigh, “I do want to be more with you Al but-I’m scared to rush things in case I get hurt again, or even worse I hurt you.”

“Did you just ask me to go steady with you Reyes?”

“I did,” she laughed before leaning back next you on the bed. “So what do you say?”

You linked your fingers with hers, “I suppose so.”

Raven shoved you playfully. You filled her in on the conversation you overheard between Abby and Jaha. She still couldn’t believe that you confronted Abby on behalf of her. Your unusual moment of calmness was interrupted by Clarke barging into the tent, the blonde was in her usual frustrated state and was oblivious to you and Raven holding hands. “Y/N we have a meeting with the commander right now.”

You sat up fast, “we?”

“The commander won’t listen to me on my own, you still have the bruising from what the mountain men did.”

Rolling your eyes you stood up with a groan. “Yeah, I can show them it as proof I get it. Can you give me a minute?” Clarke stared at you blankly. “Jesus Griffin, I’m wanting to change okay.”

“Fine, but we need to leave in a couple of minutes.”

Quickly you changed your top into a more appropriate one. Running in a thin vest top wasn’t a good idea. Once your jacket was on you made sure to have Anya’s hair in your pocket. “You don’t need to go, If you don't want to.”

You gave Raven a sad smile before making sure not to forget anything important. “If there’s a chance to get our people back I need to try,” you squeezed her hand. “Stay safe Reyes, I’ll be back soon.”

—

“If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I will slit your throat.”

You gulped down at Gustus’s threat. You fully believed he would kill you and Clarke without a second thought. Another grounder stepped forward and introduced the commander.

“You're the one who burned three hundred of my warriors alive,” the commander's words were laced with venom as she spoke.

Clarke stepped forward, “you're the one who sent them there to kill us.”

“Do you have an answer for me, Clarke of the sky people?”

Answer? You frowned at the blonde standing next you. She has failed to mention any kind of deal, or questions had been discussed prior to this meeting. Clarke had an answer for her, “I’ve come to make you and offer.”

The commander's expression remained the same and emotionless, Clarke had really pissed her off. “This is not a negotiation.”

Another grounder spoke to the commander in trig. You didn’t know many words but you did pick up on ‘kill her’, You looked at Clarke confused. Was she trying to get you both killed?

“I can help you beat the mountain men.”

“Go on.”

As the commander spoke you noticed the other grounder eyeing you suspiciously. “Hundreds of your people are trapped inside mount weather, kept in cages. Their blood is used as medicine.”

“How do you know this?” The commander wasn’t believing her story.

“Because I saw them,” she stepped closer again. “My people are prisoners, too. I was one of them. We both were.”

“Lies!” The angry grounder stepped forward. “No one escapes the mountain.”

“We did. With Anya. We fought our way out together.”

“Another lie. Anya died in the fire. You killed her!”

“She’s not lying,” you said. “The mountain men are taking blood and bone marrow from both our people.”

The commander still looked unconvinced. Sighing you pulled your jeans down low enough to reveal your large bruise that has still yet to heal. “They took my bone marrow. I found Clarke inside mount weather, and while trying to escape we found Anya. We only had time to save her, but I intend on keeping my promise to return and free the others.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out the braid of hair. “Anya told me you were her second, I’m sure she’d want you to have this.”

“We don’t even know it’s hers”

“Anya was my mentor before I was called to lead my people,” the commander turned to face you and Clarke. “Did she die well?”

“Yes. By my side, trying to get a message to you.”

You couldn’t decide if Clarke’s memory of what happened was fuzzy, or if she was a really good liar. The commander held her hand up to Indra, “what message?”

“The only way to save both our people is if we join together.”

“Those who are about to die will say anything,” Indra spat. “The one you call Alba doesn’t seem conceived by Clarke of the sky people.”

Oh shit. Suddenly all eyes were on you. “Anya called me Heda gon bàsmhorachd, and heda gon mathanas and said one is a gift and the other is a weakness. “

The commander glanced from you to Clarke, “I’m still waiting for an offer.”

“The mountain men are turning your people into reapers. I can turn them back.”

Indra began ranting and yelling in trig.

“I’ve done it with Lincoln.”

You glared at Clarke as she said his name. Lincoln had always been good to your people. He’d saved Octavia, you, and Finn multiple times. Last time he tried to make peace it cost him his own people and Clarke had just given his location away.

—

Soon as you arrived back at camp Jackson said he needed your help. You excused yourself much to the dismay of Indra but the commander didn’t seem to care. After countless attempts of bringing the patient's temperature down Jackson eventually managed. He explained with such little resources it was becoming harder to help people.

“Hey doctor.” Turning to face the doorway you smiled seeing Raven gave you a confused look. “What are you doing?”

“We are short of blood so I’m doing what I can to help,” you shrugged. It was also a good reason to avoid any grounders that where still in camp. The interaction from before had left a sour taste in your mouth, although a part of that was because of Clarke.

“We should start calling you saint Alba,” Raven leaned against an empty table. “How did it go?”

“Truthfully I have no idea, Clarke told them she can turn reapers back into normal people.”

“Can she?”

“I’ve no idea you,” you pouted. “She’s not one for sharing what’s going on. I was completely blind sighted by some things that were said. I guess we can’t do anything but wait and see.”

“Do you trust them?”

You thought about it before answering, the grounders had no reason to trust the ‘sky people’ so they probably didn’t. “I think they will still have a ace up their sleeves. How did your day go?”

Raven shrugged, “still no change.”

Jackson entered the room just as the bag had filled with enough blood. He thanked you and removed the needle from your arm. Technically it wasn’t a good idea for you to be given blood after everything your body had been through recently but it was desperate times. You stumbled slightly when you stood up but Raven caught hold of you. “Al? You should sit back down.”

You gave her a lopsided grin, before gently kissing her. Raven smiled into the kiss before leaning back, “if you need anymore blood I can always donate.”

“Glad to hear, I’ll be back in a moment.”

You shared a look with Raven, “is he everywhere?”

Shaking your head you got out of the chair and let Raven sit in it. “I’m going to get changed, do you want anything from the tent?” Raven shook her head. “I’ll see you soon Reyes.”

—

Lifting up a cleanish top you changed into, and threw the previous one that was now covered in your blood to the side along with the rest of your dirty clothes. You had accidentally pulled the needle out when Jackson first put it in resulting a good top being stained.

You stepped out of the tent and saw Clarke walking back from the gates, she noticed you and walked over. “We saved Lincoln.”

“That’s great,” you were glad to hear Lincoln hadn’t died. He deserved better than to die as a reaper.

“Commander Lexa-”

“I need to stop you there Clarke,” you pointed towards the gates the grounders had just left though. “I’m not interested in any of that.”

“Your not interested in saving our people?”

The accusation that you didn’t care about your people after everything you’d been through together stung. “No, I want to save our people and the grounders who have been taken. But I don’t trust Lexa.”

“She is our best chance of helping.”

“Is she?” You saw the furious look on her face. “I’m just saying we don’t know enough about them, and she’s not going to just give us a alliance we will need to work for it.” Clarke’s silence confirmed your fear. “What has the commander offered you?”

“She will fight with us to get all of our people back.”

“What does she want in return?”

“Finn.”

[randomfandomimagine]

A Whisper Among The Noise (Clark Kent x Reader)

Character: Clark Kent

Fandom: Superman/Man of Steel (DCEU)

Tags: Songfic, angst with a happy ending, pining

Warnings: A bit angsty in the middle

Word Count: 2,1k words

Requested by @caritobbg��: Hello again!!! ❤️ I'm still in love with "I Still Love You" whith Jaskier 😍❤️ hahahaha I'm gonna ask if you could write another ficlet songfic with Clark Kent x Fem! Reader? 😍 The song's called Secret Love Song p.II by Little Mix ❤️ Reader's in love with him, but when she founds out about a mysterious girl that he likes, she felt so bad and sing that song infront of everyone at an after-office party. Then, Clark tell her that she's that girl 😍 Love your blog!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

A/N: Better late than never 😅 By this point I was running out of inspiration a bit, but I still kind of like the result and I hope you love it! Thanks for being so lovely and patient and understanding. Enjoy!! 💜

Clark Kent x Gender Neutral Reader

_

You absently scratched your nail against the ridges on the red solo cup you were holding and that you had barely drank a sip of. The party was lively and loud, and although you didn’t regret coming, you were starting to feel a bit restless. Everyone was shouting over the music and chatting in groups, and after you had said hello to them, you were now hiding in the corner as you felt your social battery drain.

A hand softly pressed against your arm, and you would have been startled by the sudden contact as well as by the promise of new interaction if it weren’t for whom that hand belonged to. You could tell it was him not only by the gentle way in which he called you, but also the unmistakable way his touch made you feel. Warm, flustered, loved. The butterflies returned to your stomach, like they had never left ever since the last time you talked to him.

“Y/N” His deep voice enveloped you as you turned around to face him.

“Hey, Clark” You didn’t speak too loudly, but he seemed to hear you nonetheless.

“What…” He began to say, but he paused and leaned closer to your ear so you could understand him over the blasting speakers. “What are you doing here all alone?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, even under the fond way in which he watched you, you shrugged your shoulders. Wanting to distract yourself from the intense way he made you feel, you continued to play with the cup in your hands.

Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

 “Well, I…” Knowing he expected an answer, you made an effort to reply and raise your voice enough so that he could hear you. “I guess I’m a bit over it already”

When you looked up at him, you saw Clark dedicating you an understanding smile. His hand, which still lingered on your arm, carefully squeezed you.

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

“I wouldn’t want you to leave the party early because of me…”

“I don’t mind at all” His smile widened, acquiring an inviting expression. “I don’t like parties that much anyway”

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Your hand fell atop of his, timid and longing.

“It would be my pleasure” Clark dedicated you that smile, the one that light up your entire world.

The two of you paused, lingering on your reciprocal touch, and stared at the other. At that time, the music in the background seemed to dim. Perhaps it was because of your heart beating wildly in your chest, all the more with each second that your touch and his continued. Or maybe it was that the intensity of your gazes that made everything around you duller.

When your eyes drifted down to his lips, like they had a mind of their own, you had to bite your lip not to audibly gasp. You inched closer to his mouth on an instinct, ever so slightly, so little in fact that he didn’t seem to notice.

“Come on” He finally said, moving his hand to gently push it against the small of your back. “Let’s get you home”

You obeyed, hoping you weren’t blushing as his hand also lingered in that new spot. Titling your head down, you started walking towards the exit. Your mind boiled with thoughts, all regarding the very man that so kindly insisted in personally accompanying you home.

_

When Clark stopped the car, it felt like all the questions fighting for attention in your brain only grew louder with the absence of the party music. Like every time you interacted, he was the perfect gentleman, a sweetheart, always kind and thoughtful and gentle. Back at the party, you had been even closer than ever. All those stolen moments you shared paled in comparison to that one. Surely, he must have noticed your moment of weakness and decided not to act on it, to pretend like he didn’t realize. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

It made sense, seeing as his heart was apparently taken. There were rumors in the office, of Clark being hung up on someone. He always seemed absent-minded, lost in a beautiful romantic daydream of that special person. If only you could be so lucky, but having your feelings reciprocated felt like an impossible dream. You could see that now, clear as day despite the darkness that surrounded you.

“Are you okay?” Clark’s husky voice startled you slightly in the stillness of the car. “You’re very quiet”

“I was just wondering…” You dared to look him in the eyes, forgetting how beautiful and piercing they were. For a moment, it took your breath away. “Are the rumors true? Do you… are you… and someone in the office…?”  

“Maybe… why do you ask?” He attentively stared at you, but his tender expression wasn’t endearing this time. It was heartbreaking, because someone else caused it.

“I…” Unprompted, a deep sadness overwhelmed you. The electric magic that seemed to fill the air whenever he was around disappeared, replaced with a cold void.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Clark placed a hand on your wrist, but this time the gesture didn’t feel as lovely either. “You’re acting strange”

Tears arrived to your eyes. You had a sudden realization that, no matter how close and intimate you got with Clark, it would never be enough. He was thinking of someone else.

Every time I see you, I die a little more Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls It'll never be enough As you drive me to my house I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down You and I both have to hide on the outside Where I can't be yours and you can't be mine

But I know this, we got a love that is homeless

Was he really that blind to your love to give you hope? Especially when his harbored someone else? Was that undeniable connection doomed because of another person?

He was staring at you, yet again expecting an answer. His insistent gaze made your heart race, made you flustered as usual. This wasn’t fair…

“I’m in love with you” You spit out before you could stop yourself.

The silence seemed to grow. It loomed over you, lurking in order to swallow you at any moment, and take your empty heart with it.

“Oh…” Clark retrieved his hand, dragging his fingers along your skin.

Feeling all kinds of stupid and hopeless, you averted your gaze. Your wrist felt cold and hot at the same time. That spot missed his touch, but it remembered it.

“I’ll…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll walk you to the door”

Moving your head so he couldn’t see your face, you looked out the window. He stayed in the seat, so you nodded your head without making eye contact. When you made to open the door, he exited the car himself.

In the time that it took him to round the vehicle to reach the copilot door, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn’t want him to know how much you were hurting. It would only make things worse.

It's obvious you're meant for me Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep But I'll never show it on my face

Before he could, you opened the door and walked out of the car. There stood Clark’s tall figure, illuminated by a streetlight behind him and making him look like an angel in a halo. You and him… it would have been too good to be true.

You started walking to your front door, with him standing by you and watching your every move. He was worried, and you could tell. You couldn’t even be mad at him or that person that stole his love. After all, you wanted him to be happy, even if it was with somebody else.

As you walked, you subtly wiped the tears from your cheeks and busied yourself with getting your keys out. They rattled in the silence of the night, making your ears ring. It was the only sound filling the void other than your slow, feeble footsteps. Your front door was closer each second, and with that a sense of anticipated relief reached you bit by bit, desperately attempting to take over the hurt.

“Y/N?” Clark piped up, but you didn’t feel strong enough to hear what he wanted to say.

“Thanks for taking me home” Was all you told him, already lifting your arm with your keys prepared.

“Wait” He spoke in an ushered whisper, delicately stopping your hand when you were opening the door. His fingers were warm even in that chilly night. “I don’t think you understood me before”

“You don’t have to explain” You told him, mentally begging him to stop talking. “Really, Clark”

“I do” His grip on your wrist tightened a little. “Because I am in love with that someone…”

“Clark…” You began, gritting your teeth and struggling to keep faking.

“Will you look at me?” His hand gingerly rested against your cheek, tilting your head so you reluctantly stared into his blue eyes. “That someone is you… how could you think it was anyone but you?”

You gawked at him, unable to believe him. He backed off slightly, letting go of your wrist and giving you some space. As usual, he seemed to know exactly what you needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You weren’t angry, you weren’t sad, nor disappointed. Shock was the only thing you could feel among the sea of emotions that threatened to drown you.

“I thought you knew…” He continued, given your quietness. “I was waiting for a sign”

“A sign?”

“A sign that you… loved me back”

“I knew you loved someone, I just… I never thought it was me…”

Clark frowned, seemingly as heartbroken as you were. He made to touch you again, but this time he hesitated. You could see it in his eyes, the regret and guilt and fear. After all this time being so unapologetically affectionate, he was afraid to hurt you again. He was afraid to harm you in any way, even if it hadn’t been his intention. All that pain and uncertainty… it was all for nothing. Clark loved you, he always had. There was no one else, only you.

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt you” Once again, he read you like an open book. He knew you so well, and he cared so much, that he read your thoughts.

“Get out of my head…” You spoke in a whisper, fascinated by him.

Relieved by the shift in the atmosphere, from tense and sad to hopeful and light, he chuckled. His brow was still furrowed, but now it showcased that fondness from always. Knowing what you did now, you realized it wasn’t only that. It was fondness, and an absolute adoration that you were surprised not to have seen until then. It was always there, you were just too blind and too afraid to see it.

“Can I…?” Clark began, but you interrupted him.

“Yes” You replied before he could finish the question, you knew what he was going to say anyways. And the answer was yes, one hundred times yes.

He smiled and moved closer to you. Feeling his warmth in the chilly night, you shivered as he lovingly wrapped his arms around you. Like they belonged there and always had, your hands settled on his chest. He deeply breathed in, as though he couldn’t contain such emotion. Then, he finally leaned in.

Your eyes closed at the touch of his lips, feeling goose bumps now that it finally happened. He held you tight at last, tighter, as tight as he could, as he pressed you against him. Your hands went up to his shoulders, holding on to him as your legs threatened to give in under the weight of your immeasurable happiness.

The kiss was magical, warm, passionate and tender. It was loving and sweet and cathartic. When it ended after a few seconds, you slowly opened your eyes. Clark was staring at you, receiving you with a bright smile. He didn’t say anything, but you understood anyway.

There was no noise anymore and he didn't have to whisper in your ear, but he still reached you deeply. He saw you in ways no one else could, he talked to you and read you without the need of words, and that kiss was proof of it all, like a whisper among the noise.

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[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever. Authors Notes: Thank you all so much for being so very supportive. You guys have been absolutely wonderful. Seriously I couldn't ask for a better group of readers. I need to warn you all that this chapter has quite the graphic and gruesome scene in it, so if that's not your thing I highly recommend skipping the part where Clark starts to watch the video. Some major questions answered here. Hope you all enjoy, and keep the reviews coming. Special thanks to my ever amazing beta Hipkarma. She always helps and inspires me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Chapter Eight

 Dawn smirked as she saw the caller ID flash. So, Buffy had talked to Wes. That was good. She really didn’t want to have to break into the Watchers Council just because she was nosy and worried for her sister. Buffy hadn’t told her much when they talked yesterday, just that there was some sort of prophecy about her and this Clark guy, which just raised all sorts of red flags for her. Dawn had insisted on seeing a copy of the prophecy and her hackles raised even more when she found out how quiet Wes and Willow were trying to keep this. Looks like big sis came through however, and now it was time to give the man on the other line hell for keeping something this important from her.

 “Xand, honey, can you take Abby? Wes is on the phone and it’s time for her nap anyway.” Dawn said, reaching for the phone.

 “No!” Her one and a half your old screeched at the top of her lungs, making Dawn cringe. When they coined the phrase, ‘children are your parents secret revenge,’ they weren’t lying. Abigail was just like her too, even in looks.

 Xander came out of their shared office, a crooked and amused smile on his lips. “You should know by now not to say that word in front of her,” He said, kissing Dawn on the forehead before reaching out and swooping up their toddler. “Come on Abby,” he said as Dawn answered her call. “Daddy will read you your favorite story.”

 “Try to get Joyce down too,” She added, before saying into the phone, “Hello Wes, so good of you to finally call me.”

 She heard the groan on the other end of the line and smiled. “How much do you know?”

 “That there’s a prophecy about my sister and some uber-powerful guy she’s been spending time with, on your instruction I might add.” Dawn said in a mockingly sweet voice.

 She heard him sigh. “Yes, that is all true. Look Dawn, I’m going to send you a copy of the prophecy through your secure fax now. We’ve been able to translate some of it, but there are certain areas where…I don’t think the language is of this world. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen in any human or demon writings before.”

 Dawn got up and walked into the office, a frown on her face. “You mean like interdimensional, there’s gotta be a reference somewhere Wes.”

 There was silence over the line and for a second and she thought Wes had hung up. She’d just opened her mouth to see if he was still there, when he finally said, “No Dawn, that’s not what I meant at all.”

 Her frown deepened as the first page spat out of the machine. She slid it off the rack and looked at the prophecy. There were several different languages written on the copy, Etruscan, Ancient Sumerian, Ancient Greek, and Latin. At the top were strange symbols unlike anything she’d ever seen before, almost flowing together like cursive. The next page that came out was Wesley and Willow’s translation of that page. She bit her lip, walking over to her desk and went to work making sure what they had translated so far was correct.

 “So,” she began casually, “what I’m getting from the first page is that this guy is much farther from home than just another dimension.” She paused, huffing in annoyance as she snootily added,” It was Sun God by the way, not Star God.” She sighed. “Who are you using anyway, Basile?”

 “Vonten,” He answered and Dawn rolled her eyes. Of course, he was using that moron’s guide.

 “Vonten is an arrogant prick Wes, that book confuses people more than it helps. Burn it, it’s better as kindling. Bachman is the best at Etruscan and Ancient Sumerian, and you already know Ancient Greek and Latin enough not to need a reference.” She said, before frowning as she came to the part about the soulbond. “Wes, what the hell is a soulbond, and why is this referencing my sister and Mr. E.T. having one?”

 As Wesley began to explain what they knew so far, Dawn's face began to pale. Oh, this was not of the good. Buffy was gonna wig to the nth degree when she found out.

 "Does she know any of this?" Dawn asked, turning around and grabbing more of the pages that were still spitting out of her printer.

 "She knows about the bond. I told her this morning." He answered.

 "And what, you’re waiting until she gets pregnant before you tell her the rest?" Dawn asked angrily. "You know this is gonna freak her out..."

 "Which is why I decided not to tell her." Wes interrupted.

 "If you'd let me finish," Dawn snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "I was going to say this is gonna freak her out, but it would be better if you tell her now." She huffed in frustration. "This just proves how little you guys know my sister. She absolutely will freak and she'll probably fight it at first. Just the idea of her own children having to live the life she has, is not gonna be a happy, joyous moment for her. She's already worried that Joyce or Abby, or maybe even both will be called one day.” Dawn said, before emphasizing her next words, "However, my sister is not stupid, and when push comes to shove, she'll make the right decision like she always does. I get that you’re worried about the Slayer line Wes, we all are, but keeping this from her is not the right way to go about it.”

 She heard Wes’s sigh, “I realize that Dawn, but with the bond itself needing to be fulfilled, I thought that was more than enough for both of them to handle at this time.”

 Dawn looked at the pages covered in the strange flowing script, similar to the symbols on the first page. Wes was right, it was a language. "We need to find a way to translate this. Do you think this is Clark's language from his home world?"

The line was silent for a moment, before he said in annoyance, “Yes, that’s what I meant when I said I don’t think the language is of this world.”

 “Do you think Clark knows how to read it?” Dawn asked.

 A sigh came over the line, “I honestly don’t know. I believe he just discovered where he came from, so I don’t see how he could.” He paused in thought and then murmured to himself, “But even if he can’t, perhaps the ship has a historical archive or maybe there is some form of AI technology that could translate it for us.”

 Dawn frowned, “What ship?”

 As Wesley explained how Buffy and Clark met and the danger Buffy had recklessly put herself in, Dawn found her ire sparking at Buffy’s stupidity. “I’m gonna kill her!” Dawn growled. “She hasn’t done something that reckless since Joyce was born. God fucking dammit, she promised me!”

 Wesley sighed. “In her defense, it could have very well been her fate that made her act so rashly.” He paused before saying, “In any case, Clark was there and according to Buffy, he saved her and watched over her after she went into a healing sleep.”

 Dawn was quiet as she processed that information. So, she didn’t die, which meant Buffy actively tried to stop it from happening. That was good, she was still getting smacked when Dawn saw her, but at least she hadn’t completely broken her promise from three and a half years ago. It was also good to see that this godlike Champion the prophecy spoke of wasn’t just a creature with a penchant for destruction playing at being a white hat because of a curse. That was a nice change.

 “What else do you know about him?” Dawn asked. “I’m assuming you started trying to find him as soon as you started translating this.”

 “Well,” Wesley began, “We first caught wind of a possible candidate about a year ago. We’d been monitoring airwave chatter for possible beings with superhuman strength when we caught a lead. A distress call came in about an oil rig off the coast of Canada in flames and about to explode. In that communication there was talk of a man rescuing the crew members aboard the rig and preventing the tower from collapsing on the rescue helicopter with his bare hands.” He paused for a moment, before saying. “We managed to find a few other incidents of him saving people, one that happened when he was thirteen. According to the incident report, his school bus went off a bridge and into the river. Three witnesses stated that a young Clark Kent managed to push the bus out of the water and rescue his classmate.”

 Dawn whistled, “So this guy really is the real deal white knight, huh?”

 “It would appear so.” He sighed.

 “Wes we’re gonna need to access that ship.” Dawn said, looking over a small section of Sumerian that talked about a trial of choice. The rest of the page was in the alien script however, so any clue as to what that meant was beyond her.

 “I know,” Wesley agreed.

 “Which means, we’re gonna have to tell Buffy and Clark everything.” Dawn reiterated.

 She heard Wesley groan, but he conceded nonetheless. “Alright fine, Willow needs to bring them some pendants to stave off the worst of the compulsion the bond is creating. I’ll have her stop by and get you on her way, unless you want me to tell Buffy myself, that is.”

 Dawn shook her head, “No, no. I think it will be safer for everyone if I’m the one to do it.” Then she bit her lip in thought, “And don’t bother with Willow, just call me when she gets back. I think I need to do this one on my own.”

 “Very well,” Wes agreed. “Willow should be finished within the next few hours. I’ll call you as soon as I know she’s returned.”

 “Alright, in the meantime I’m gonna go over this and make sure all the parts I can read are translated correctly.” Dawn said, adding, "Talk in a few," before hanging up.

 She sighed, rubbing her fingers along her forehead. "Well fuck," she muttered to herself.

 "Everything alright?" Xander asked, coming into the office. 

 "No, not really," she answered handing him the translated first page of the prophecy.

 She watched his eye scan the words before he blew out a breath. "So, this guys an alien?"

 "Looks like." She answered.

 Xander snorted, "Man the Buffster really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she?"

 Dawn mock glared, before she couldn't contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you know Buffy. She doesn't do anything by halves."

 ****<S>**<S>****

 As Clark followed Buffy down the hallway, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He knew she had been trying to reassure him, but her words only had the opposite effect. Were they only feeling any of what they were because of the prophecy and furthermore, given the choice, would she even choose him? She had basically confessed to falling in love with her best friend. The history they had both shared, as disturbing as it was, was an important one to her. She had cared very deeply for this man. How could he ever live up to the memory of a man who had essentially changed a piece of himself for her? Part of him wanted to erase Spike’s memory from her mind, to do whatever he could to drive this man, this demon from her past and another part of him just felt wholly lost. He didn’t want to be anyone’s second best and he certainly didn’t want her to want him only because some guy thousands of years ago decided they were destined. God, he wished his dad was still alive. This would definitely be the type of thing his dad could help him through.

 She stopped at a large set of double doors and turned, catching his expression before he had time to school it into a much more neutral one. She blinked in surprise, "Clark...what’s wrong?"

 He shook his head, “It’s nothing Buffy.”

 Her frown deepened, “Oh no, you definitely have something face. Talk to me. I promise whatever it is, I’ll try to understand.”

 Clark shifted uncomfortably, before finally admitting, “I’m just feeling a little unsure about all this.”

 Her eyes widened slightly, “Because of Spike?”

 Clark sighed, “Well I mean think about it Buffy. You basically told me that you fell in love with your best friend and were willing to marry him for eternity, but the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. Would you even look twice at me if he was here now? Are the feelings I’m having for you even real, or is this just destiny trying to force us together?”

 Realization flooded her expression, and she quickly shook her head. “I can’t speak for what-ifs, because I would be lying if I answered that either way…” She swallowed, “As for how you’re feeling, I’ve been under love spells before and granted you usually don’t know you’re under one when you are, but if the feeling’s part was being fabricated, we…we wouldn’t be able to fight this like we are. We would have probably already slept together.” She blushed, looking down. “Fabricated feelings they’re false obviously, but they’re very strong…strong enough to make people dangerous. If what we were feeling was a manifestation, you wouldn’t have these doubts Clark, you wouldn’t even realize there was doubts to be had.” She met his eyes then, her expression serious and stoic. “And as for the fear part, I didn’t want to get into it because…” She sighed again. “You remember how I told you that Angelus showed up right when I was starting to get my life back together?”

 Clark nodded, “I remember.”

 “Well, what I didn’t say is that I was planning on retiring.” She rolled her eyes, “I had this grand plan of going back to school and getting a degree in Art History and moving to Hawaii to open a gallery.” She shook her head, “It was stupid, I know.”

 He immediately shook his head, “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”  

 Buffy blushed. “I just mean it was stupid that I ever thought it could happen.” She shook her head, “Anyway, I started training a girl named Rayanne when we were first getting the new Watchers Council on its feet. She was bright, witty, resourceful and she already had the makings of someone who could be an excellent leader.” She looked at her feet, her hands clenching. “Me and Giles had agreed, in three-years-time, when Ray was eighteen, she would step in and fill my shoes. Faith didn’t want the position and the only other possible candidate that actually did, I flat out refused due to her inability to get along with just about anyone but Willow. I mentored Ray for over a year and she became…well, like a little sister to me. After the whole General Voll fiasco, I was ready to promote her to Senior Slayer status. She had been on it more than any other girl at the compound, helpful and demanding when need be. She’d fought through a horde of zombies and we came out of it with zero losses. The attack was completely unexpected and if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.” She met his eyes, “I was so proud of her.” Buffy sighed, “A few months later is when the first girl, Alicia went missing, and by the time Ray disappeared, there were already six that seemed to have just dropped off the planet.” She swallowed, “Angelus revealed himself and killed Giles a few weeks later, and almost three weeks after is when we found Alicia. She was the first and youngest to go missing and she was the first he dropped on our doorstep.” Buffy shook her head squeezing her eyes shut, “I knew what he was doing to Rayanne then, and that she would probably get the worst of it because of her association with me. Alicia was just a taste of what Angelus was capable of.” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I wanted to have Spike claim me so we would be strong enough to save her and the rest of them, and I was scared because I knew I’d be asking for the wrong reasons. I was afraid Spike would know it too and I would only hurt him by asking. Does that make sense?”

 It was Clark’s turn to avert his eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly.

 She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, “Well just in case you have any doubts…” She swallowed, “I don’t even know why I kept this. Angelus loved tormenting me and we didn’t know it at the time but there were several Watchers from the old regime who were very unhappy with the way we were running things. Some of them made deals with Angelus, gave out my email and phone number and my location.” She looked at him, her lips pursed in anger. “One of them would even take video or pictures, documenting my pain for him when he couldn’t be there hiding in the shadows to see it.” She handed him her phone, “I’ve never watched this one, it’s the morning I found Rayanne, he saved her for last. I don’t need to see it, I lived it.” She nodded at her phone, “When he sent it, I didn’t even open it. I just dropped it in an archive and it’s been there ever since.” She shook her head, “I highly recommend only opening the third video file, the one that says, ‘Are you broken yet?’ She met his eyes then, “The first two will be what he did to her. So, unless you feel like throwing up, I would skip those.” She gestured with her chin at the double doors. “I’ll be in there beating on a bag, meet me when you’re done.”

 She turned without another word and went through the double doors not looking back. Clark looked down at the phone swallowing heavily, before opening the file. The video began with the image of the front of a house, not unlike the one they were in now, except there was a large tree in front and something very obviously dangling from it. It looked to be sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps early morning, but he couldn't tell either way due to the lights on the house illuminating everything.

 The person carrying the camera ran towards the house and a refined British voice in distress yelled, "Ms. Summers, come quickly. I think it may be Miss Stevenson."

 The front door flew open and there she was, except she looked nothing like she did now, her eyes were wild, feral even, and she was so pale and sucked up. She looked hollow, worn-down, nothing like the girl he’d spent the last couple of days getting to know. The scream that tore from her lips and the look on her face when she saw what was hanging from the tree, tore through him like a tidal wave of emotion. Clark felt himself growing angry at the Watcher, who was obviously playing both sides. Another man with bleached hair and nothing on but a pair of black jeans came flying through the door next, his eyes wild and worried. 

 The camera panned and followed Buffy as she ran out to the tree, falling to her knees and screaming again. Clark saw what was in the tree then and his stomach almost rebelled right then and there. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen and the only skin left on her body was on her beautiful face and near her pelvic region. The girl’s expression was frozen in a horrified scream that no one who cared ever had the chance to hear. A large white sheet wrapped itself tightly around the girl’s wrists and tied over the lowest branch, the excess linen draping behind the dead girl as some sort of sick backdrop silhouette for the body hanging lifelessly from the tree. There was hardly any blood to speak of, just a pinkish residue from where the body had touched the clean white linen, which told Clark she had been dead for more than a few hours. It wouldn’t be visible to a human through the recording, but because of his enhanced vision Clark could even see puncture wounds in places and deep gashes from where the girl had been restrained.

 The blond man came into the picture then and the Watcher came towards them, circling around so he could see Buffy’s expression, or at least that’s what he assumed the person with the camera was doing. Buffy's mouth was open in silent gulping sobs, giant tears dripping down her cheeks.

 “Love,” The blond man whispered in an apparent British accent not nearly as refined as the Watchers Clark had heard so far. The man fell to his knees behind her looking up at the tree. He shuddered as tears sprang to his electric blue eyes. “Don’t look Buffy…please kitten, please go back in the house.”

 The man placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned at the gesture and Clark could no longer see her face as she flung herself into the man’s arms and began to sob harder. “It’s Ray,” she howled. “Oh god, it’s Ray.”

 “Shh,” The blond man hushed, rubbing hands along her back in a comforting gesture. “I know,” He choked. “I know, love.”

 “We…we can’t leave her like that.” She sobbed. “I-I have to get her down.”

 Clark watched the blond man close his eyes and shake his head, “I’ll do it. Go back in the house, please Slayer.”

 “No,” Buffy shook her head as Clark caught the silhouette of another man flying from the house and over to them. The sound of retching could be heard, and it took Clark a second to realize the sound came from whomever had just come from the house and seen the body. “It has to be me. Don’t you see, don’t you get it? I knew,” she sobbed. “I knew what he was doing to her and I didn’t do anything.”

 “Oh, sweet girl, you’ve been trying to find her. We all have. This isn’t your fault.” The man choked.

 “It’s not good enough,” She screamed, shoving away from him and falling on her rear, “And it is my fault, all of it! They were called because of me, because I was too chicken shit to just except the power that was offered to me!”

 A sob broke from her lips, and she turned looking directly at the cameraman a sudden realization dawning in her hollow eyes. “You!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She started marching towards the cameraman.

 “Ms.…Ms. Summers,” Whomever was holding the camera stuttered and then she was there, a well-aimed kick flying towards the camera before Clark saw sky for a few seconds.

 “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” She screamed suddenly hovering over the man, the wild fury in her eyes telling Clark that she had every intention of killing this man, and part of Clark couldn’t agree more. “No one else but an Angelus minion would have called me out here for Rayanne! Everyone else would know better!”

 Clark watched as she threw a punch, the sickening sound of cartilage breaking ringing through the speaker as the guy howled in pain. The way her arms were angled next and the gurgling sound through the phone told him she was choking the man before three sets of arms suddenly grabbed her, pulling her off. Clark could hear the man wheeze as he tried to catch his breath while Buffy screamed and fought the three people who had pulled her away. Faith was one of them, and then the blond man, which Clark was pretty sure by now was Spike, and another man, tall, brunet, with an eyepatch. He saw Willow in the distance coming towards them and when she reached them, she touched Buffy’s shoulder before she could react and muttered a few words that sounded like Latin. Buffy suddenly collapsed and Clark realized Willow had put her to sleep. All eyes then turned towards the cameraman.

 “Get her in the house, Xander.” Spike growled.

 “Uh, Spike–” Xander started to say when Spike turned on him.

 “Get her in the bloody fucking house, now!” He snarled, a sound like grinding bone emanating from the man as his voice altered to something more sinister. “I’m not going to kill him.” He said turning back towards the camera as two glowing amber eyes stared at Clark.

 “Speak for yourself,” Faith said marching towards the man. “I’ve been getting those fucking emails too.”

 “So have I,” Willow said, her eyes black as she stared the camera down.

 “We won’t have to kill him,” Spike clarified as he fell in step with Faith. “Angelus will do that for us.”

 “How you figure?” Faith asked, her eyes just as enraged as Buffy’s had been.

 Spike suddenly sprung forward, his arm reaching out and a ripping sound emanated as the man screamed. His hand came back with what looked like a wad of hair. “This enough Red?”

 “Plenty,” Willow said, sudden realization dawning in her black eyes.

 “Now,” Spike said, a sinister grin stretching his fanged mouth, to the whimpering man. “The way I figure it, you got three options. The first being, you can go back to Angelus and give him this tape, at which point he finds out we now have a way to track you, and oh trust me Marcus, he will most definitely kill you for that.” Clark heard the man begin to sob, and part of him wanted to turn off the video at that point but couldn’t look away at the furious amber eyes that stared back at the camera. “Option number two, you can destroy the tape and run, which if we’re being honest would be the preferable of the three, but I’m sure you are well aware of the kind of wrath he would bring down on you if he didn’t get to see his almost masterpiece complete, so I’m sure you won’t.” Spike’s hand suddenly flew forward and the man screamed in pain, “Or option three,” He growled, “Where you run like a coward and keep the tape for leverage, hoping that your usefulness hasn’t run its course.”

 He suddenly had the camera in his hands, staring directly into the screen his eyes burning into the lens. “Looks like your mole got ousted. This is your last one, Angelus. We’re coming for you and when we’re done there won’t be anything left.” The screen suddenly went black as the video cut off.

 Clark let out a trembling breath looking around him and realizing he had slid to the floor at some point, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he didn’t know, he didn’t understand until that moment. That poor girl, no wonder Buffy was desperate. How many girls did she find like that before this one was left for her? How many videos did she force herself to endure before this one was sent, even Faith and Willow had said this wasn’t the first one? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, she had told him, so had Gunn but to see it. She was driven half-crazy by what that vampire had done and he could not blame her for that. What would he do if it was his mother in that position? God, he could only imagine.

 He shakily got to his feet, listening as he heard the sound of a fist hitting leather, he walked to the doors and threw them open, not stopping when she paused to look at him. He had to reassure himself that she was okay, that she wasn’t that angry creature that he saw in the video. He went straight to her, his arms coming around her in a crushing embrace before his lips met hers. God, she was so strong, he didn’t realize how much until that moment. Buffy immediately melted into him, her lips parting for him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She was such a small woman, everything about her was deceptively tiny, except her strength and fortitude both physically and emotionally. To go through what she had and still be able to function on a normal level was just short of a miracle.

 He pulled away and looked down into her green eyes, haunted by her past but not dead and hateful like in the video. He bent down and laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…” He started, “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Buffy.” He whispered, and he could still feel himself trembling. “I didn’t… You hear words like torture, rape, and murder but–”

 “They’re not real until you see it for yourself.” She finished in understanding.

 Clark sighed, hugging her closely, her head resting against his chest. “I get it now, not…but I understand how desperate you must have been to try and save the girls from that.”

 He heard her sniffle, “I didn’t know what else to do. I watched all the others you know, even…even what he did to them. It was my fault, you see; those girls lost their lives because they had a connection to me.” She shook her head, “If they hadn’t been called, they would still be alive today.”

 Clark pulled away and used his hand to raise her chin so he could see her eyes, “You blame yourself for every one of them that dies no matter how it happens, don’t you?”

 She closed her eyes a shuddering breath hissing through her lips, before she opened them, meeting his gaze head on. “How can I not?”

 He sighed, hugging her close again and shook his head. He had no response to that; he didn’t think she should. He didn’t think it was healthy, but he didn’t want to get in an argument about it with her right now either.

 They stayed like that for a little while before she whispered, “You’re shaking.”

 Clark nodded. “I know, the video…I’m still upset.”

 She pulled away, meeting his eyes again. “Do you want me to show you how to throw a punch properly? The heavy bags have been warded well, we can start there.” She looked down, “It will…it will help relieve some of what you’re feeling at least.”

 “Yeah,” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 To say Clark was a fast learner when it came to training would have been the understatement of the year. He was an absolute natural. He moved with precision and grace, sometimes striking so fast she almost didn't see him move. 

 As of now she was simply holding the bag for him as he got comfortable with the rhythm of landing punches and even with the wards on the bag, she could feel the impact of his strikes. At this rate she would need her suit within a few days to let him get the feel of fighting a moving target. At some point she might even bring him back to Cleveland to put him up against multiple fighters and see how he did.

 "Remember to move your feet,” She reminded. "A moving target is harder to hit."

 He nodded, bounced on the balls of his feet and struck, the impact of the punch making her bones rattle. "Whoa, nice one Clark." She laughed, "Felt that one in my toes."

 He grinned, striking the bag again harder. "You were right," he said casually in between punches. "This does help."

 She grinned, "Nothing like getting your aggression out with a bit of violence." And then she blushed, smirking, "Well almost nothing." 

 He chuckled as he threw a few more punches in quick succession, his own smirk forming on his lips. He had a mischievous look in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to comment when Buffy’s phone rang.

 Buffy sighed, releasing the bag. "That will either be Wes or Willow."

 It was now around three in the afternoon; Clark had told her he had to pick his mom up at six and it was an hour drive to Smallville from where they were. So, she was grateful that they were going to be able to get this taken care of before meeting his mom.

 Buffy walked over to her phone and answered. "Hey Wes," she said in greeting. "What's the haps?"

 He was silent for a moment and she could almost hear him roll his eyes at her butchering of the English language. "Willow," He began, "should be there shortly. Dawn would also like to see you. I told her I would call her once Willow was done securing the pendants."

 Buffy frowned, “What? Why?”

 “Dawn and I have come to the conclusion that one of the languages in the prophecy that I have been unable to identify, is most likely written in the script of Clark’s home world.” He paused, “We are going to need access to the ship, unless of course Clark can read it.”

 Buffy looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow, but he quickly shook his head. “Only a few words,” He confirmed. “I think the computer on the ship might be able to translate it though.”

 “That’s a negative, Wes,” Buffy answered, beginning to pace. “But he agrees that the computer on the ship should be able to do the job.”

 “Very well, I’ll inform Dawn to dress accordingly. The ship is still in the same location I presume?” He asked.

 “Whoa,” Buffy said halting her steps, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want us to go tonight? Clark has to pick up his mom from work, Wes.”

 “I think it would be for the best. The sooner we get this prophecy translated, the better.” He paused. “Lorne told me I needed to send out more Slayers to India, Kansas, and Metropolis within the next two weeks and I would very much like to know if I should be sending two or a few hundred. If this prophecy gives any indication of what’s to come, I would very much like to know what it is.”

 Buffy and Clark exchanged worried looks. “He only told me something was coming for Clark, and we’re gonna need all hands-on deck when it does.”

 Buffy watched Clark swallow nervously. “He told me my time for hiding was almost up, but he said it was in the coming month.” His eyes widened in realization. “We need to translate that prophecy.”

 Buffy nodded in agreement, “And I need to train you harder than just beating on a bag, which means it’s gonna be eight-hour days from here on out.” Clark opened his mouth to argue and she held up her hand, “We’ll get as much as we need to do in the mornings done, but if for whatever reason we can’t, I would loan you the money before I would let you lose your home.”

 Clark frowned, “Buffy–”

 “Take it from someone who knows what those kinda money troubles feel like,” She interrupted again. “I think in the scheme of things saving the world is a little more important than pride, don’t you?”

 His frown deepened. “You think it’s going to be that big?”

 “Lorne said all hands-on deck and it’s you. Someone coming after you has got to be as powerful, if not more.” She watched his face fall and reached out her hand out running it down his arm, “You’ll be ready, and now that we have a general idea of where this stuff might take place, we’ll all be even more prepared.”

 “Wes,” she said, addressing the Watcher once more. “Were gonna need Willow to keep close, and I would call Illyria back from Cairo.”

 “I agree,” Wesley said, just as a portal opened up and Willow walked through. Her smile melting away at the look on both Buffy and Clark’s faces.

 “Uh-oh,” Willow said nervously. “I know that face.”

 “Is that Willow?” Wesley asked over the line.

 “Yeah,” Buffy said.

 “Let me speak with her, please.”

 Buffy held out the phone to Willow, who frowned but took it anyway. “Hey Wes,” Willow said in greeting as Buffy walked over to where Clark was standing looking more than a little worried.

 “Hey,” she said quietly.

 He attempted to smile but he couldn’t pull it off. “Hey, yourself.”

 She bit her lip watching him, seeing the turmoil play across his face of having an unknown enemy out there that could be responsible for hurting others when they decided to rear their ugly heads. She didn’t blame him, if she needed to pull out her big guns as Lorne hinted then it could definitely get bad. She was optimistic however, because of what she’d had to face in her past. Clark didn’t have that same luxury.

 “I-I know you’re not exactly used to going up against big bads, or having to fight gods,” she started. “But I promise you Clark, no matter what it is we’ll deal with it together. Tonight, I’ll have my sister meet us at your place and we’ll go to the ship and find out what this prophecy says. Whatever’s coming, we’ll deal. I promise you; we won’t lose.”

 “How do you know?” He asked, a bit of hope showing in his eyes.

 She stared at him seriously, “Because I don’t lose when it’s the world.”

 His lips quirked slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something when Willow walked up to them. “Wes wants me to fit you for a suit,” She said to Clark, handing Buffy her phone before saying, “And, he wants to talk to you.”

 As Buffy reached for the phone Clark said, “I already have a suit and it’s Kryptonian.”

 Both Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise at his words, their voices ringing out in unison. “You do?”

 He nodded, “Yeah, it’s on the ship still, but I have one.”

 Willow smiled, “Well then, that’s gonna make this quicker. Can you bring it to me? I can enhance it with magic, add some safety features and protect you against the mystical.”

 “Will that still work, even if the material isn’t of Earth?” He asked.

 “Yeah Wes,” Buffy finally said into her phone, pulling herself away from the conversation. So, Clark already had a suit, she wondered what it looked like.

 “So, for the time being I’m going to send fifty Slayers to each location, but keep the others on standby incase things go pear-shaped.” He said, already planning ahead. “I’ll also be moving quite a few closer to all three locations, that way all the girls have backup nearby. I think Willow should stay there at the safehouse that way she’s not far from either of you.”

 “And Dawn, Xander, and the kids? They live in Metropolis after all.” Buffy asked.

 “Perhaps you should explain the situation to her when she gets there. Staying there at the safe house with Willow might also be a wise move for them.” Wes said, adding, “As well as a few Slayers. I know Faith’s been itching to get out of Cleveland for a mission, maybe she and a few of the other girls should accompany her.”

 “Just as long as it’s not Tanya, that girl’s a liability and she doesn’t listen to anyone.” Buffy said.

 “I concur,” Wesley agreed. “Only the girls who are focused and dedicated will be allowed to participate in this mission. I would like as little casualties as possible.”

 “I agree,” Buffy nodded, “What about the mystics, how many of those can we tap?”

 “I have sixty-eight on file, I’ll start making phone calls now.”  He sighed. “I’m just glad we have this much to go on.”

 “Me too,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll call Dawn when Willow gets done here and tell her where to meet us and to put on her suit and a warm hat.”

 “Very well,” he said. “Call me when you know more and I’ll begin the preparations.”

 Buffy hung up, walking back over to Willow and Clark as they spoke to each other a bit awkwardly. “So, let’s get this over with Wills.”

 Willow quickly nodded opening a small bag she brought with her. “So,” she said quickly. “These were a bit difficult to make since from what we’ve read the compulsion itself seems to be based purely on hormones as well as a need to unite your souls.” She looked at them both, “It took me a little while to find what I needed and even longer to put the spell together.” She sighed, “The pendants themselves will be made out of several crystals used to block compulsion, amethyst, ametrine, chrysocolla, and ruby.”

 Willow pulled out two small corked vials filled with multicolored stones and handed them to both Buffy and Clark. “Now, hold out your hands and link your free ones together.”

 Buffy and Clark did as she asked, holding their hands out palm up. Willow placed a vial in each of their hands and then covered them with her own hands, closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Buffy immediately began to feel her hand heat up and for a second it almost became unbearable and Buffy even watched Clark wince from the heat. It was gone just as quickly however and in its place were two hard looking marble like multicolored stones with a dark metallic chain that would hang from each of their necks. Buffy heard Willow mutter one more spell that she recognized to be a ward against breaking.

 “Well go on.” Willow said smiling happily at her work. “Try them on, see if it worked.”

 Buffy quickly slipped the necklace over her head and a sigh of relief left her lips. The sexual tension that had never fully abated her all day finally easing enough to where she wasn’t thinking about sex every few seconds.

 Clark had a similar reaction, his face seeming to ease slightly, but Buffy was surprised when he turned to Willow and asked, “You said the compulsion is only based on hormones, does that mean any feeling we have that aren’t sexual are real?”

 Willow nodded, “Of course, real love is something that can only be based off of free will. Its why love spells don’t ever work. You can’t force someone to love you.”

 Buffy watched amused as Clark seemed to sigh in relief, and then quickly blushed when he noticed her watching him. “Come on stud,” she said hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards the door of the training room. “Let me go grab my stuff before we go get your mom,” a grin creeping over her face as she turned and wished Willow a good night and a promise to catch up tomorrow. “And for the record”, she added quietly as they walked out of the training room. “I still want to jump you, that hasn’t changed even with the necklace on.”

 He quickly reached out to grab her arm, but she easily dodged him and took off down the hallway, a blush and a giggle leaving her lips.

 Clark was suddenly there in front of her, a crooked and devilish smile on his lips. “Is that so?” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she squealed in surprise.

[davidmann95]

How about those JL storyboards?

In case you haven’t heard, Zack Snyder is putting on display the ‘storyboards’ - i.e. a rough plot summary accompanied by some Jim Lee sketches - for what would have been Justice League 2 and 3, or as this puts it 2 and ‘2A’. You can see them here (I imagine better-quality versions will soon be released), and read a transcript here. This is evidently a very early version: this was apparently pitched prior to the release of BvS and Justice League being rewritten in the wake of it, with numerous plot details that now don’t line up with what we know about the Snyder Cut, plus it outright mentions it builds on the originally planned versions of the Batman and Flash movies. But it’s a broad outline of what was gonna go down, and while I initially thought it was Snyder throwing in the towel, the timing - paired with the ambiguity left by the necessity for changes, including that this doesn’t factor whatever that “massive cliffhanger” at the end of the Cut is - says to me he’s hoping this’ll be a force multiplier behind efforts to will sequel/s into existence. He’s probably right.

I’ll be discussing spoilers below, but in short: with this Zack Snyder has finally lived up to Alan Moore, in that like Twilight of the Superheroes I wouldn’t believe this was real as opposed to a shockingly on-point parody if not for direct, irrefutable evidence.

Doing some rapid-fire bullet points for this baby to kick us off:

* Folks who know the subject say a lot of this is a yet further continuation of Snyder doing Arthuriana fanfic with the League reskinned over those major players, and I’ll take their word for it.

* I don’t know whether I love or hate that in Justice League 2 the Justice League are only an extant thing for the first scene, and then it’s Snyder giving everybody their own mini-movies. It’s compressing the entire MCU “loosely interconnected solo stories leading to a single big movie later” strategy into a single movie!

*  Funniest line in the whole thing: "Even Lantern has heard of the Kryptonian, worried that he's under the control of Darkseid. He heard his spirit was unbreakable." Hal what fuckin' Superman movie did YOU watch? Second funniest being “IT WILL GIVE HIM POWER OVER ALL LIVING LIFE”

* 90% of the plot I have nothing to say about, it’s generic stage-setting crap. That to be clear is the ‘shocked it’s Snyder’ element, it feels so crassly commercial in a way I can’t believe is coming from the BvS guy.

* Most of what I have to say is unsurprisingly gonna be about a handful of characters but Cyborg’s happy ending being “he isn’t visibly disabled anymore!” is not great!

* The Goddess of War battle with Superman...never pays off? No clue why it’s there.

* What I’d originally heard was that the Codex in Superman’s blood was the last key to the Anti-Life Equation and that’s why Darkseid was coming to Earth. It’s not like all of this wouldn’t have already been averted by Kal-El’s pod smacking into an asteroid on the way to Earth so it’s not as if this makes it any more Superman’s fault, and it would have at least tied all this back to the beginning of the movies, but I suppose that was either fake or from a later draft.

* I have NO idea how this was reimagined without the ‘love triangle’, it’s the central character thing and the entire climax flows directly out of it!

* Darkseid’s kinda a chump in this, huh

Anonymous said: So: Does Zack Snyder hate Superman?

Look: the hilarity of this when Cuck Kent has been a go-to Snyder cult insult towards ‘inferior’ takes on Superman for years cannot be understated, yet at the same time I can almost wrap my brain around where Snyder’s coming from with that as the end for his take on the character. He talked in that Variety piece on how his interest in Superman is informed by having adopted children himself, and Deborah Snyder is the stepmother to his kids by previous relationships, so I can see where he’d be coming from, and I can even imagine how he’d see this as ‘rhyming’ in the sense of “the series begins with Kal-El being adopted by Earth, it ends with him adopting a child of Earth!” In the same way as MARTHA, I can envision how he would put these pieces together in his head thematically without registering or caring what the end result would actually look like. In this case, Superman raising the kid of the man who beat the shit out of him who Batman had with Clark’s wife, who earlier told Bruce she was staying with Clark because he ‘needed her’, suggesting if inadvertently that this really honest to god was a “she’s only staying with Superman out of pity, she really loved Batman more” thing.

But Clark is nothing in this. He’s sad and existential because of coming back from the dead I guess, then he’s corrupted, then time’s undone and he woo-rah rallies the collective armies of the world (interesting angle for the ‘anti-military/anti-establishment’ Superman he’s talked up as) as his big heroic moment in the finale, and then he stops being sad because he’s adopting a kid. So his big much-ballyhooed, extremely necessary five-movie character arc towards truly becoming Superman was:

Sad weird kid -> sad weird kid learns he’s an alien, is still weird and sad, maybe he shouldn’t save people because things could go really wrong? -> his dad is so convinced it could go wrong he lets himself die -> ????? -> Clark is saving people anyway -> learns his origin, gets an inspiring speech about being a bridge between worlds and a costume -> becomes superman (not Superman, that’s later) to save the world, albeit a very property-damagey version, rejects his heritage he just learned about and space dad’s bridge idea -> folks hate him being superman and that sucks though at least he’s got a girlfriend now -> things go so wrong he considers not being superman but his ghost dad reminds him shit always goes wrong so he should be good anyway, which sorta feels like it contradicts his previous advice -> immediate renewed goodness is out the window as he’s blackmailed into having to try and kill a dude but the dude happens to coincidentally have some things in common so they don’t kill each other after all -> big monster now but superman keeps supermaning at it because he loves his girlfriend and he dies -> he’s brought back, wears black which apparently means now he likes Krypton again? -> he has work friends now but he’s still sad because he was dead -> evil now! -> wait nevermind time travel -> rallies the troops -> his wife’s having a kid so he’s not sad anymore -> Superman! Who gives way to more Batman.

Do I think Zack Snyder is lying when he says he likes Superman? No. I think he sincerely finds much of the basic conceits and imagery engaging. But I don’t think he meaningfully gives shit about Clark as a character, just a vessel for Big Iconic Beats he wants to hit. Whereas while for instance he’s critical of Batman as an idea (at least up to a point), he’s much more passionately, directly enamored with him as a presence and personality. So while Superman may be the character whose ostensible myth cycle or arc or however it’s spun might be propelling a lot of events here, it’s a distant appreciation - of course the other guy takes over and subsumes him into his own narrative. Of course Batman is the savior, the past and the future (though if he’s supposed to be Batman’s kid raised by Superman there’s no excuse for him not to be Nightwing), the tragic martyr to our potential. Admittedly the implication here is also that Batman can apparently only REALLY with his whole heart be willing to sacrifice his life to save an innocent, for that matter apparently his great love, once said innocent is a receptacle for his Bat-brood, but he and Clark are both already irredeemable pieces of shit by the end of BvS so it’s not like this even registers by comparison.

Anonymous said: That “plan” Snyder had was utter dogshit. Picture proof that DC & WB hate Superman. Also I love how you’re like Jor-El: Every single idealistic take you had about Snyder, his fandom, and BvS was wrong. Snyder’s an edgy hack, his fanbase just wants to jerk off to their edgy self-insert Batgod as he screams FUCK while mowing people down with machine guns, and the idea that BvS said Superman was better than Bats was completely wrong. You know what comes next SuperMann: Either you die or I do.

In the final analysis, beyond that mother of god is there sure no conceivable excuse for the treatment of Lois in this? The temptation is to join that anon and say as I originally tweeted that these were “built entirely to disabuse every single redemptive reading of the previous work and any notion of these movies as nuanced, artistic, self-reflective, or meaningful”.

...

...

...yeah, okay, that’s mostly right. Zack Snyder’s vision really was the vision of an edgelord idiot with bad ideas who was never going to build up to anything that would reframe it all as a sensible whole. He’s a sincere edgelord genuinely trying really hard with his bad ideas who put some of them together quite cleverly! But they’re fucking bad and the endgame was never anything more than ramping up into smashing the action figures together as big as he could, the political overtones and moral sketchiness of BvS while trying to say something in that movie reverberated through the grand scheme of his pentalogy in no way beyond giving his boys a big sad pit to rise out of so when they kicked ass later it’d rule harder, and all the gods among men questions and horror and trappings were only that: trappings. Apparently he’s really pleasant and well-meaning in person, but at his core his art as embodied in a couple weeks in his 4-hour R-rated Justice League movie meant to be seen in black-and-white all comes down to that time he yelled at someone on Twitter that he couldn’t appreciate Snyder’s work because it’s for grown-ups. He made half-clever, occasionally exciting shit cape movies for a bunch of corny pseudo-intellectual douchebags, folks latching onto and justifying blockbusters that at least acknowledge how horrifying the world is right now even if the superheroes are basically useless in the face of it if not outright part of the problem until a convenient alien invasion shows up to justify them, and a handful of non-asshole smart people who vibe with it but...well. ‘Suckered’ is a harsh word, and definitely doesn’t apply to all of them re: what they’ve gotten out of it up to this point and would (somehow) get out of this. But it doesn’t apply to none of them, either.

[witchesoz]

After Oz: Legends of Oz

I hesitated before doing this one, because this movie is mostly based on the book "Dorothy of Oz" by Roger S. Baum, and I haven't read said book. It is something that tends to get on my nerve, when people actually don't care about the original material an adaptation was based on, and consider the adaptation as its own entirely original piece of work, when in fact, a lot of it was taken from somebody's else work. I mean, the perfect exemple is Shining. Some people praise Kubrick for being a pure genius for inventing this story from A to Z, and consider Stephen's King television series a "poor attempt at a remake of the movie", when... you know, King originally wrote the Shining and Kubrick merely adapted it. In fact, people tend to forget most of Kubrick's movies were adaptation. Dr. Strangelove? Loosely based on "Red Alert". Lolita? Everyone knows it is Nabokov. A Clockwork Orange? Anthony Burgess. 2001: Space Odyssey? Inspired by shorts stories of Clarke, the co-author. Eyes Wide Shut? A 1920s German book, Traumnovelle. And so forth and so forth...

  Hum. Sorry for the rant. I just needed to explain why I always want to take in consideration the original material when tackling an adaptation.  But since I haven't read and can't get this book, I will mostly rely myself on the Wikipedia plot and other reviews I read. If you wonder, yes, Roger S. Baum is Baum's great-grandson (or great-great-grandson?), and he wrote "Dorothy of Oz" as a direct sequel to the first book, "The Wizard of Oz", ignoring all of the others, and... apparently he is not a really good writer. But anyway... I still decided to do a little something about this movie, because... well just because I wanted    Oh yeah, another thing... an elephant in the room I have to adress right now. I only discovered it this year, by doing research about the movie (because before I only saw it at the time of its released and then forgot about it). You can know it, or completely ignore it - yes, I know that this whole movie was the result of a huge scam that robbed hundreds of people out of their money, and that the case has been even brought to trial. But... well the movie is still here, people still saw it, it is still around, will be for still quite a long time, and it is now part of the Oz inheritance, that you want it or not. Anyway, a lot of Oz movies had a dark and troubled production. It seems almost like a pre-requisite: if you do an Oz movie, you'll never end happy. Maybe it is a curse? Who knows.

       So... let's get into the subject. Is "Dorothy's Return" a bad movie? (I'll use this name, because "Legends of Oz" was the name of the intended franchise of three, maybe ten movies). I wouldn't say so. A lot of people said it was crap, or worthless, but I wouldn't call it bad. People also said that it is a bland movie, and I would say yes - but only partially. I think a good lot of the extreme bad reactions were caused because of 1- people who just disliked the idea of more Oz adaptations, 2- people too old for this movie, because you have to remember that this is a movie aiming at children and 3- people who are hard-die fans of the MGM movie and not so much of the original Oz books. It may also play in account that Dorothy's Return was roughly released the same year, and played as a "rival" to "Oz the Great and Powerful".

    Now, note that it isn't a memorable movie (except for a few bits). It isn't an excellent movie. It isn't a cult classic (even though it may become it with the whole scam background, who knows?). It isn't something I would watch again and again with pleasure. It isn't something exceptionnal or groundbreaking, it is even quite generic. But, it has some good parts, and it manages to be entertaining, and honestly as a child I could have sit in front of it and watch it with no problem. Because, yes, it is a children movie. The action is rushed, the characters lack depth, some moments are too sugary-sweet or even cringy (for exemple the song "We'll work together". Seriously, I just looked away and sped up a bit because that was too sickening-sweet for me.) As a result, as a child movie they missed things that could have been really good (the old tree agreeing to be use for a boat, which is played straight up as him being killed, the characters even say so, but then it turns out he is still alive as a boat? You could have had a great, deep, fascinating almost philosophical moment, but you just waste it for a happy ending). Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, a children movie. As a result, some people called the movie "too simple". On the other side, people called the story "too confusing".

  To an Oz fan like me, it isn't actually confusing. It isn't at all - but indeed, for someone with a limited knowledge of Oz, it will be confusing. Because, while they base themselves on an Oz book that re-uses many elements from the books (the Queen of the Field Mices, the Sawhorse, the China Country...) it also decided to include a lot of elements from the MGM movie (the Wicked Witch of the West is the one from the MGM, Glinda is also quasi-identical from her MGM counterpart, the Winged Monkeys work with the evil people...). As a result, yeah, it may be confusing. But the inclusion of the MGM elements actually managed to correct some flaws of the original story. For exemple, in Roger S Baum's book, the Jester was merely a normal jester possessed by the ghost of the Wicked Witch of the West, through her magic wand. Wait, magic wand? There wasn't any magic wand mentionned in the original book! But in the movie, to use the broomstick of the Wicked Witch makes much more sense.

      I'll take a short time here to comment on the character of the Jester, who is, I think, the highest point of this movie. He is a good villain. A cliché but interesting backstory cashing on the idea of Oz vilains as siblings, a clear shout-out to the Joker which isn't so bad, interesting plans. He is also the provider of many nightmarish elements (the fate of Dorothy's companions, which I think was a very good idea, or the people turning into puppets and being used for a creepy dance) that made this Oz movie feel... well Ozian. Because a good Oz work is a work that will traumatize your kids! I guess a bit part of why the Jester works so well is that he basically repeats and remakes all his sister, the Wicked Witch, did in the MGM movie, and let's be honest, she was a great villain. (And this again makes sense when you remember the Jester is originally supposed to be possessed by the Witch's ghost). But at the same time he has his distinctive signature and style, with his Jester persona, his circus-related punishment and his personal plots to conquer Oz. [People noticed obviously the sweet irony of things in this movie. You have a double-character that, on the Earth world is a cheater and criminal trying to steal people of their houses and using several fake identities, while in Oz it is a villain that turns people into puppets he can manipulate and relies mostly on cheating and misleading Dorothy to her doom. Which is eerily similar to what the creators of the movie/franchise did with their financers and investors.]

  Talking about the Earth side... The whole "earthly" parts are all bland and not memorable. Just like Dorothy, who isn't really... anything to be honest. The songs sung aren't memorable either. All of that is a fail. A lot of people also considered the Earthly animation uncanny, or even disturbing, but I personally wasn't bugged by it at all. I saw much more uncanny animation.

    When it comes to the Oz part, I actually think they managed to create a perfect "Ozian story". As in, the general schema of the girl entering in Oz through an uncommon mean (here a people-eating rainbow, that I have to say was quite a scary scene to look at), then passing through many small kingdoms, meeting new friends, forming a team, discovering the villain and fighting him off - this plot was repeated by Baum times and times and times again, and probably comes from the original novel Dorothy of Oz. But it still works, as simple as it can be. Plus, the use of the China Country and the Candy County (I think its their name?) was quite a good choice. The China Country was one of Baum's earliest invention, while the Candy County (originating from the Roger S Baum book) is eerily similar to the Bunbury village, an invention of Baum, inhabited by living baked goods that also get angry at the protagonists for trying to eating them. Yes, all in all, the characters feel really Ozian. As for the other member of the team, "Wiser the Owl". Well... he had the potential to feel an interesting and Baum-ian character. But it falls flat because he just becomes one living fat joke. I mean, fat jokes can be funny. But when the character is mostly the joke itself well... yeah, not really working. He had a much interesting role in the prequel comic book.  

   Because yes, there is a comic book associated with this movie! As I said before, originally the project was to create a franchise of several movies, with toys, goodies, applications and video games. (Or at least that was the project the scam used). The comic is however found under the original title for the movie "Dorothy of Oz". I don't have much to say about it, outside that is was quite pleasing (even though it sometimes doesn't make sense when put in direct relationship to the movie), and that it introduced one interesting idea: that the magic of the broomstick/Witch relied mostly on manipulating the weather and nature. The Jester causes a flood to destroy the Munchkin town, he causes an earthquake to break the China Country, he uses heatwaves to melt the Candy County... And another interesting point, the role of Wiser. Indeed, in the movie he is presented as a "motor-mouth" that keeps talking about everything, knows a lot of stuff and has the tendency to finish other people's sentences. But it gets quickly overshadowed by the fat jokes (cause a big part of his character is that he used to be able to fly but now, because of his love for candy, he is too fat to fly). However, in the comic book he has rather the role of the one voice of reason and intelligence that offers down-to-earth, simple solutions to problems where the other Ozians search for more extravagant and magical possibilities. Exemple (SPOILERS: when trying to create a rainbow, the team searches everywhere, thinks of asking witches, wizards and candy makers. Wiser has to remind them that anybody can create a rainbow with just a good crystal and some light. SPOILER ENDING.)  

   (I actually read the comic book before looking at the movie, which may explain why I consider it better than the movie.) To return to my opinion on the movie... Not the greatest Oz movie, but certainly not the worst. Average, but on the good side. Entertaining and interesting, even though bland and generic. They got the feeling of an Oz story but they just didn't found a way to freshen up or make the story shine on its own. A good villain for a heroine easy to forget. Simple. Ideal for children, or to kill time, or just to inspire one for more Oz work.

[sometimesrosy]

hi rosie! I know it's been months since the 100 ended and I've seen lots of people talk about how they failed bellamy and clarke but I was wondering what you thought of raven and her storyline in s7. do you think it was good for her character and her story arc?

Ahh. Raven’s arc.

Yeah, so the problem with Raven’s arc is JR hasn’t known what to do with her since season 5. Season 4 was the last season with a good character arc for her, and even that one had a major character glitch as he tried to take her from the pragmatist who would blow up a bridge or dam or tell Clarke to kill Lxa while surrounded by her armies, to a person who said “it’s not your blood that matters, it’s your heart.”  Which was one of the worst lines in this whole show. It’s not even funny like “we’re back bitches!” It’s just corny and soppy and dumb. Her character shift on science island always felt false to me. It should have been Bellamy who held Clarke in check with morality, since that had been HIS character arc. I thought it was a misstep then, and now knowing the entire narrative arc, I think it was where they started to go wrong with Raven. Until then she was my third favorite character after Clarke and Bellamy.

I ALWAYS had a problem with this, but I was giving them the benefit of the doubt that they could pull it out. Season 5 was the least bad for her, with her sacrifice for spacekru on the ship, but honestly I didn’t think they went far enough with that. I feel like they should have explored her feelings of guilt more at not being able to get her friends home, or leaving Clarke behind alone.  And there was great potential in the scene where she and Clarke took McCreary down using her own body as the weapon (especially for a character whose body was always in pain and whose body had failed her... idk that’s quite some symbolism there,) but instead they chose to retreat and turn her back into the judgmental shrew that told Bellamy he shouldn’t have saved the slaves, and told Clarke she was the one who said whether everyone lived or died.

So like. She never addressed with Clarke what happened with Finn at his death. The blame she put on Clarke, when SHE wanted to instigate a war that would have had them all exterminated, including Finn. For some reason, the genius couldn’t connect those dots that her plan would have caused all of her people to massacred? I mean, it’s normal for her to have that failure in such a time of high emotion, but six years later, she still thinks Clarke was wrong to do what she did? No. Plot hole. Forgetting all the times that she enabled Clarke’s plans, or eagerly set about torturing and killing (remember SHE’S the one who electrified Lincoln without a BIT of the remorse that Clarke and Bellamy had,) is a failure of character.

Also, she never addressed the FACT that she wanted to trade Murphy to the grounders for Finn’s life and have him tortured to death in place of her boyfriend who was a literal mass murderer, AND she blamed Murphy for Finn’s actions when Murphy was the one trying to stop him the whole time. And THIS is a plot hole for a character arc and narrative line that was about Raven having learning about forgiveness and morality and leadership and sacrifice and hard decisions, and making judgments on Murphy, who frankly has been one of the most moral characters of the show since season 2. His morality might not be the SAME as everyone else’s, but it was the most firm.  So, this narrative arc again did not go FAR enough. 

In season 5, I figured that they would make up for the s5 scanty Raven storyline with a stronger s6 one.. That didn’t happen. I thought maybe it was because her love interest left, so she took on his judgmental role, but it didn’t work well. I also thought that part of the problem was that it would make her into too big of a character and they needed to keep the focus on the main characters, Clarke and Bellamy. But from s5-7 MURPHY got a large role, too, that brought a thorough narrative arc and finished out his character journey. So he got the focus that they never managed for Raven. I hear tell that Richard helped Murphy’s story in season 7, so that might be why. But idk. It shows that they were capable of finishing a character story with attention and detail, but they just failed with Raven. 

So season 7 had Raven confronting her own leadership and putting her in Clarke’s place to face the judgment she put on Clarke. And...oh she was sad and felt guilt and had to face the repercussions of that. But... it didn’t go far enough. She was reunited with Clarke and was no longer angry at her, and they were a team again. But this wasn’t HER story arc. Her story arc just kind of went *sad trombone.*

I know she was the one who went into the anomaly and met with the sparkle aliens, but that just seemed so forced and fake. Yes, they built up the morality narrative, but... like. It should have been Clarke. Instead they turned her into the crazy vengeance lady, like Daenerys, even though her entire narrative was about her dealing with her pain and she kind of never killed anyone in vengeance? I mean she spent 6 years ALONE and she only wanted to kill herself? IDK. It doesn’t make sense that THIS was the end. She sent madi into battle too save Bellamy and that did make her crazy lady. She had her after death reckoning and we saw no crazy lady. 

Sorry, that went off into failure of Clarke’s story.

How did that affect Raven? I think that from about season 3, Raven was used as a substitute to fill in gaps where they lost characters, or moved characters around. Where they changed their narrative ideas, and they needed a narrative tool to do something, they would stick Raven in... because she was a strong character who was involved with all the other main characters (except maybe Octavia.) She became like a swiss army knife who would take the place of characters that were needed but didn’t fit. And that meant that HER character was not really consistent in the later half of the series.  And it feels WRONG. Someone’s judgy? Make it Raven. Someone’s empathetic? Make it Raven. Someone’s mean? Make it Raven. Someone’s righteous? Make it Raven. Someone’s a sister? Make it Raven. Someone’s a daughter? Make it Raven. Some main character needs a supporting character to prop them up? Make it Raven. They just moved her around to fit the other character’s stories. Even her big morality arc was to support Abby, Clarke, or Murphy. :/ THAT’S why it didn’t work when they made her the Clarke proxy in the transcendence narrative. Because she hadn’t actually worked through HER story, but through Abby’s Clarke’s and Murphy’s. Bleh.

And she also basically disappeared in a lot of season 7, too. Same as Octavia. Who had her story with Sky Ring and skyringkru, but then disappeared until she gave the inspiring peace speech with the goddamn petty, dumbass stupid grounders, whose main flaw FROM SEASON 1, is that they are too stupid to have survived this long. All they want to do is fight. And blame everyone else for what they did. And the eligius prisoners, and the brainless cult sheep. Honestly. 

And what do we have? The most unnuanced, flat character in the show. Sheidheda. Like there isn’t even any symbolism or archetypal energy in there. He’s just there to make them fight for NO FUCKING REASON. 

These are the characters who had decent story arcs that were resolved.

Murphy and Emori Diyoza Gabriel And Indra a bit. Better than most. 

Fucking DEV had a better character ending than Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, and Octavia. 

Actually, Mackson was satisfying, although skimpy. But then the characters didn’t have a really deep narrative line, so their ending was in keeping with their story. But it fit with their long term stated goals, what they wanted out of life. Just to be together in peace with maybe some chickens, by the shore, right? That was THEIR goal. The ending was theirs.

That was never what any of the other characters wanted. Or not ONLY. Do the right thing. Live a good life. Create a better society. Save humanity. Be good people. Live morally. 

nope. But it worked for Murphy’s ending too. He didn’t want to die alone. He died, with Emori. Then he came back and got to life his half life with his friends. 

I just can’t get over how they tossed the main story of being the good guys and saving humanity. I suppose there was always the question of whether they’d get a happy ending emotionally, but I never thought they’d destroy humanity, erase Bellamy and say Clarke was never the hero. 

I guess I needed to address the endings of the other characters to see how they all fit in with Raven’s. Because none of the characters stood on their own, so we have to see how they were woven together and compare and contrast.

Raven was my biggest disappointment as a character in this show from season 5 on. I kept waiting for her character arc to come together or get the attention Murphy got. She had the weight to be major character, but her story just wasn’t told. She became a supporting character and really lacked meaningful development. 

[thechembow]

To the woman who assaulted me at Ace Hardware today,

Jan. 15, 2021

I am your neighbor in Frazier Park. I love this mountain and feel so blessed to live here. You must enjoy its beauty as much as I do, because it is unsurpassed. The woods and wildlife give me solace. I have also always had good experiences among the humans of the mountain, shopping locally, where we all know each other and everyone is friendly. I like supporting our community and keeping everyone working and happy. I’ve never had a bad time shopping in Frazier Park, so it was somewhat of a shock to meet you this way today.

My husband and I were picking up some bird seed at Ace Hardware. If you live in Frazier Park and not in Pine Mountain Club, it’s still legal to feed the birds! We love our feathered friends. They have also been giving me nice brass shavings from their key machine which I use to make orgonite, an energy device which promotes rainfall, clears air pollution, and makes living with EMF safer. My husband, Gabe, and I have been making and gifting orgonite for almost seven years now, and we have covered all of California and much of the US west to end the drought. You might be interested to know that we have put orgonite all over this mountain too. It sure has been snowing more and more every year since we got here and the forests are alive with new baby trees, far outnumbering the trees that die of old age. There were awesome wildflower blooms out in the Antelope Valley and Gorman these past few years. It might also comfort you to know that there are Earth pipes along San Andreas Fault here and at the top of Mt. Pinos, healing the damage that was done here by your ancestors, who stole the land from the Chumash Indians and clear-cut the forests. This will help prevent earthquakes. We have gifted somewhere around 200 orgonite pieces to these mountains, from the Grapevine to the Central Coast. I wrote a book about it too. Our life and most of our resources have gone into planetary healing.

Now that you know a little more about me, I would like to know more about you. I wasn’t covering my face today like you were because I am not a member of your religion. We should be tolerant of other peoples’ beliefs. I am tolerant of your choice to hide your face from your Creator, although I don’t agree with it. I would never hit you and insult you for wearing a mask or for any other reason. What told you that I was to be deplored because of my exposed nose and mouth? When you called me a “f-ing b-tch” and punched me in the ribs, it didn’t hurt physically because you’re old and weak. But I was wondering if it was your mom or dad who taught you to do that? Did you learn it in school or in church? I’ve never been cursed at and hit by an old woman before.

I put on the mask in order not to offend you, although I didn’t have to. You continued to yell, and you were very close to me when you yelled that I would infect you. If I’m so disgusting and disease-ridden, it would be a good idea to stand a few feet away from me when you insult me. I think about 6 feet should do it. It’s also not a good idea to punch a sick person because you could get my germs on your hand. How come you disappeared out the back door when I called out, “She assaulted me!” If you’re right, you should stick around.

Incidentally, soon after we met, I tried to run into the grocery store to grab some garlic. Like at the hardware store, the employees there never get on my case for my need to breathe and show the face God gave me. I got verbally assaulted there by a customer again, which wasn’t as bad as being hit and verbally assaulted at the same time. But the woman there was much younger than you, so you may want to give her some pointers on how to really hurt your neighbor. She said, “You’re killing my family.” She also blamed me for her sick dog. It was more likely a combination of pinworms, Ascaris, a variety of liver and intestinal flukes, some tapeworms, solvents and heavy metals that killed them, along with the ventilators they pop peoples’ lungs with if they come into the hospital with a cold. I’m reading a fascinating book right now called The Cure for All Diseases by Dr. Hulda Clark. It explains all of these diseases you think are infectious and how to cure them. You need to zap your parasites and stop sharing your worms! Stop putting filth in your mouth and reinfecting yourself, says Dr. Clark. Germs are not jumping around in the air. You can learn to heal anything that’s wrong with you with this book.

In your case, you’re definitely watching too much news. I would venture to guess you’re also taking an assortment of pharmaceutical drugs which are masking symptoms of your own worms and the bacteria and viruses they carry. You probably use a smart phone. Lots of old people who don’t even understand the technology do. I wish you would be more like my grandma, who never hit a lady in the store nor uttered an obscenity. She never would have used a smart phone either. She was beautiful, strong, dignified, spoke several languages, loved fine art, cooked great meals and enjoyed life. It’s sad what a shriveled lump of fear you’re become. My grandma survived the very oppression you are doling out today by a miracle of God. Goodness knows, her life was in danger every moment for being Jewish and from Germany at the wrong time. Now I also feel like I’m in danger. If you’ll physically assault a stranger for having a different belief, then what if someone stronger or armed would do it? This is not something I want to find out. Fortunately I have a relationship with God who protects me and am saved by Messiah Yeshua. He reconciled me back to God who forgave my sin of falling into pagan culture like you have. Your world is a fantasy land, but it’s really more like a nightmare, and it is dying like you have died.

There were a few people in the store after you fled the scene who showed me sympathy. But I now know how bad things have gotten. You showed me that today. You made me feel physically sick, not just emotionally distressed, with a little help from your insane ally at the grocery store. Just last week I could go into most places in Frazier Park with my face showing. It seems your time is running out and your world is spiraling out of control. For now, I would rather not argue with you. I will cover my face in your presence and you won’t know I don’t worship your god. It gives me more inspiration to become more self-reliant and less dependent on the businesses of your world. I hate the mask with a passion. I hate what it represents and how you look in it. I think it’s very sad that you love your pathetic false god and believe this absolutely ridiculous narrative to the point that you would assault another woman. C0VID is a mental illness!

Well that’s all for now. I hope to hear from you soon. Maybe you will realize it was wrong to hit me and curse at me and I’ll forgive you. Then we can be friends and have a kosher barbeque when the weather warms up. I’m not holding my breath, no pun intended.

Your neighbor,

Sharon Daphna

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [38]

ix. stealing fire

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of injuries, sadness, v sad character death (yes that one), mentions of reaper drugs/drugging people, angst. 

Summary: today is the day, your execution has arrived. goodbyes are said, tears are shed, the end is here.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You sit on one of the benches in lock up, trying to forget the last time you were in here. Coincidentally, you are now sitting beside the very man who locked you up for attacking Murphy. 

You let your eyes roam over the room, trying to form an escape. You count the guards, and keep up with the shift changes, which seem to be more frequent than usual. You recite every protocol you know, the original ones and the new ones established by Pike, looking for something, anything, you can use to save yours and Kane’s lives. 

But nothing comes to you, and you let out a sigh of frustration. Kane glances at you from his place beside you, lifting his head from his hands to do so. His eyes fall on your face, and you see them lock in on your injuries before he lifts a hand and tips your chin to get a better look at your eye. “I told you not to fight.”

You pull your chin out of his grasp, and roll your eyes. “You should know by now that I’m not one to go quietly.”

He smiles, thinking of the times he’s witnessed your spitfire attitude, and he sighs, “There’s so much fire in you Griffin girls. I imagine your dad had his hands full.”

You smile, thinking of him, the level headed man who always knew how to calm the storms. “He did, but he held strong.”

He says nothing, just lets his gaze fall on each prisoner in lock up, before landing on Lincoln and staying there. You both watch as he helps teach Denae how to help the others, and he must sense your gaze, because he smiles at them, kneels down to tell them something, and then comes to settle on the bench beside you. Kane glances around you to meet his eyes. “You inspire them.”

Lincoln shrugs, always bashful with compliments, before you see his determination set in. “I'm not gonna let you give up.”

They smile at each other but Kane doesn’t reply. You have a split second to realize you don’t like Kane’s silence because it scares you, leaves you feeling unsettled, and then someone announces, “Chancellor on deck.”

You turn and see Pike come around the corner, Bellamy right at his side, expression so dejected that it puts you on edge. You and Kane exchange a look, both of you coming to the realization at the same time, and your stomach drops, realizing that this is it, you’re out of time. “I thought we had more time.”

You and Kane stand, and you think about how you’re going to go out: quietly or with a fight, and you know the answer before you even ask yourself the question. If you’re about to die, you're raising hell until the end. 

Pike comes to a stop on the other side of the door, and he glances at you and Kane. “I'm not here for you two.”

You feel relief, but it only lasts for a fraction of a second, because Pike turns to address the others. “Each of you is guilty of the same crimes as Kane, and as such, you will share the same fate. Death.”

You turn and look at Lincoln, who is looking at the Grounders, most of them still in bad shape. Lincoln turns to Pike, shaking his head. “My people are innocent, they know nothing. Don't let them suffer for my crimes. Please.”

Bellamy breaks his silence to mutter, “Sir. Lincoln's right. All the others did was run through an open door. Same thing we would do if we were in there.”

You’re surprised to hear Blemmay defending Grounders, and you hope your death sentence is enough to change his mind on Pike. Pike steps closer to the door, looking at the Grounders as he makes his decision. “I believe that's true. Kane, Griffin, Lincoln, Sinclair, as the leaders of this coup, you will pay for your crimes with your lives. Execution is set for dawn.”

The words hit you just as hard the second time, maybe worse, because now you have a time. Dawn. Pike turns and leaves, but Bellamy lingers, stepping closer to the door and whispering, “The guards that hit you have all been punished.”

You move as close as you can to him, shaking your head. “A black eye and a split lip won’t matter if I’m dead.”

You see his jaw clench as you whisper the last word, and you can tell from his expression that he’s holding back tears. You lift your hand and press your fingers through the small holes in the door, and he reaches up to touch you, possibly for the last time. He avoids your gaze, staring at your hands as you whisper, “These things lie in the lap of the gods.”

His eyes snap up and lock with yours, and you see a flash of something in his eyes. Anger? Determination? Annoyance? It’s so fast that you don’t know for sure. All you know is that seconds later, he turns away from you and strides out of the room.

-

Waiting for your death on the ground was nothing like waiting for your death in the Skybox.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s only a few hours away, maybe it’s because you have a lot more fight in you now then you did back then. On the Ark, with your dad floated and your relationship with Clarke and your mother almost nonexistent, you didn’t fear death. In fact, you almost welcomed it. But down here, you’re losing so much more: your family, friendships, the love of your life, the life that you built. 

And it’s hard not to agonize over that.

You spend hours agonizing, until a group of guards comes to the door, yelling at you and Kane to stand against the wall. You try not to tremble in fear, wondering how dawn came so quickly. As they secure your hands and feet in cuffs, one of the guards feels you trembling, despite you trying to hide it. He leans forward and whispers, “It’s not time. Not yet.”

You glance at him over your shoulder in surprise, and you see now that it’s Miller’s dad. He gives you a small smile, and you feel yourself sag in relief because for now, you still have time. 

Still, you don’t know why they’re cuffing just you and Kane, leading you down the halls one after the next, and any attempt to ask the guards is answered with a sharp push to your back and nothing else. Finally, they stop at a door near the end of an empty hallway, and it slides open. They push you inside, then Kane, and someone mutters, “You can thank Chancellor Pike for this. You've got 5 minutes.”

Your eyes land on your mother, her lip trembling as soon as she sees you. You run to her the best you can with cuffed feet, and she wraps her arms around you, holding you tight. You can hear her crying as she holds you close, and you feel yourself long for the days when you were just a kid. The invisible twin who never saw the rest of the Ark, who didn’t know anyone besides her family, who was happy. The tears well up in your eyes, spilling over your cheeks as your mom finally pulls away, lifting her hands to each side of your face, checking you over. “Are you alright?”

You try to smile at her through your tears. “I’m fine.”

You feel Kane approach from behind, and she glances over your shoulder at him, speaking to you both. “I won't let this happen to you.”

You feel yourself shaking your head, and Kane voices the thoughts in your mind. “Abby, listen. Anyone caught helping us will be condemned to death, too.”

“Then I won't get caught.”

He reaches out for her hand, holding it tight. “Look. I'm begging you, just don't...don't do it. Our people need someone here to show them a way out of the dark.”

You see her lip tremble again and her tears begin to fall as she looks between you and Kane. “I can't do this again.”

And something about the way she says it, paired with one of her hands lifting to his face to caress his cheek, leaves you remembering the night you found Kane in your mother’s room, chairs pushed close together. The way she always seems to relax around him, even when she’s stressed. The way she seeks him out for advice, holds his opinion in high regard. You smile, shaking your head, shocked you hadn’t realized before. 

Your mother is in love.

The idea sends a heavy wave through your chest, an unfamiliar mixture of happiness and sorrow. No one could ever replace your dad, but you were happy that of all the people she could fall in love with, it was Kane. Sorrow breaks open your chest when you realize that none of it matters, not anymore. Because in a few hours, she was going to lose you and the man she loved, all over again. 

You hear the door slide open behind you, a gruff, “time’s up” grunted your way. You feel one of the guards grab your arm and pull you backwards, and your mom tries to hold back a sob, but it presses past her lips as she steps forward and pulls you into a hug, one last time. She whispers, “I love you, la lune.”

It chokes you up, and you're barely able to whisper back, “I love you, mom.”

The guard pulls you back, out of her grip and turns you toward the door, already marching you down the corridor and back to the cell before you can even react. You don’t fight them, you just allow them to take off your restraints and push you inside, Kane right behind you.

You wait for the guards to leave, other than the ones posted on the door, and then you collapse onto the ground, a sob breaking free from your chest. You feel strong arms wrap around you, and you don’t even look up to see who it is. You just collapse into them and cry, letting all of your emotions from the last few weeks, few months, few years, be free. 

You cry for a long time, until you tire yourself out, and your sobs start to soften to nothing more than a sniffle. You realize you’re still in someone’s arms and you look up to see Lincoln looking down at you, offering you a small smile. You feel embarrassed, your full breakdown on display for everyone and you sit up. He looks at you, expression serious, and whispers, “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.”

“Thank you, Lincoln.”

He reaches out and squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to thank me.”

You sit side by side in silence for a few minutes, letting each other’s presence offer comfort, before Denae calls to him from the other side of the room. He glances over at her, and then at you, and you give him a reassuring smile. “Go, I’m fine.”

He walks over to her, helping her check on the other Grounders, and you look around the room, at the others. Sinclair and Kane are leaned against the wall opposite you, and Kane has his sleeve pulled up, looking at the symbol of the Commander’s Coalition burned into his arm. You stand and walk over to him, sliding down the wall beside him as he traces the symbol, over and over. 

You don’t say anything to each other; he doesn’t mention your breakdown and you don’t mention the fact that he’s in love with your mom, because both of you already know. The important things don’t need to be said, because you just know.

Lincoln finishes with the others and comes and sits on your other side, looking down at the symbol on Kane’s arm. “It could've worked.”

Kane looks at Lincoln, and then back to the symbol again. “Death can be an act of unity too.”

He looks at Sinclair, then Lincoln, then you, telling all of you, “We don’t break. We don’t show fear. The people will remember.”

You all nod in agreement, just as the door slides open and someone announces, “Chancellor on deck. It's time.”

Everyone stands as they open the door, the guards pointing guns at everyone to keep them from making a move. You look around for Bellamy, disappointed when you don’t see him in the crowd of guards. You feel a split second of fear as you realize that this is really it, you’re on your way to die, but then you remember Kane’s words, and you push the fear down until you can’t feel it anymore. The guards separate all of you and make you lean against the wall so they can restrain you again, just like earlier. As you feel the cuffs tighten against your skin, you close your eyes and make a silent plea to your father and the universe.  Keep me strong, don’t let me break.

The guards grab you and start to lead you from the room, single file. Pike is in front, leading the group, followed by Sinclair, Lincoln, you, then Kane. You recite constellations in your head to keep you distracted from the reality you’re facing, and as you’re working your way through the list, you hear Pike say, “Make way.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Chancellor.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of the voice, and you look up and lock eyes with Harper, whose gaze never leaves yours as the guards lead you around the next corner. You feel a wave of hope at the idea of being saved, but you squish it down, not wanting to get too excited. As the hall widens around you, you hear the radio at Pike’s side crackle to life with Hannah’s voice. “Sir, you were right. Octavia Blake is here, and she's not alone.”

You all keep your expressions neutral, not wanting to react, and Pike turns and demands, “On their knees!”

The guards all push the back of your legs, forcing you to your knees beside each other, guns now trained at the back of your head. Pike lifts the radio. “Can you confirm a location?”

“Negative, sir.”

Bryan glances over at Pike, sounding worried. “Sir, we can assume her friends have already told her where we're taking them. We shouldn't go any further till we know the route's secure.”

He motions to a door on his left. “Put them in there. Let's go! Move!”

They all pull you to your feet and push you towards the door, shoving you inside. They slam it closed behind you, and you can hear Pike’s voice, now muffled, yell, “I want two men on the door. Anyone comes out of there, shoot to kill. Anyone entering this corridor, one warning, then shoot to kill. Everyone else on me.”

The hallway outside goes quiet, and you all exchange a glance, wondering what the plan is. But you don’t have to wonder for long before a scraping sound to your left gets your attention. Lincoln hears it too, and he steps closer to you, both of you lifting your bound fists, ready to fight. A panel on the floor lifts, and just as you and Lincoln are about to attack, you freeze, when a familiar head of dark hair pokes through the hole, grinning at you. You whisper, “Octavia?”

She puts a finger to her lips and nods, before you and Lincoln help pull her out of the hole. She pulls Lincoln’s face to her and kisses him, smiling as she pulls away. And then she walks to the door, knocks softly three times, and waits. You hear a scuffle and then a thud before the door is pushed open, revealing Bryan’s smiling face, the other guard on the ground behind him, unconscious. 

Bryan passes Octavia his and the other guard’s guns, before pulling the door closed to a crack. Then Octavia points to the hatch and whispers, “Get in.”

You crawl in first, followed by Sinclair, Lincoln, Kane, and Octavia. She slides the hatch into place above your heads, hiding you all from view, leaving you to wait. It’s uncomfortable hidden beneath the floors, hot and stuffy, all of you pushed too close together, but luckily you don’t have to wait for long. You hear the thundering of footsteps come your way, and Pike’s angry voice. “Check them and call Medical. Damn! We did what they wanted us to do. That won't happen again.”

Less than a minute later, the thudding footsteps retreat down the hall. Octavia waits a couple more minutes before lifting the hatch and sliding the guns out first, before helping you all out of the hiding spot and into the room. She pulls a key from her pocket and starts to free all of you from your restraints, just as Miller and your mother show up to check on the guards. Octavia pulls you into a hug once she gets you free, which you happily return. As she pulls away, the radio at her side crackles to life. “OKS, come in.”

Octavia pulls out her radio and makes a face, looking at it in confusion and you ask, “What is it?”

“This wasn't the plan. We use their frequency so they could hear us.” She lifts the radio and replies, “Go ahead.”

“Stay where you are. Repeat, stay where you are. The exit is not clear.”

You both exchange a look, and she mutters, “How many guards?”

“Too many. I said, stay put.”

The radio goes silent, and you all exchange a look, stuck inside this room until the coast is clear. Less than a minute passes before Monty’s voice comes over the radio, panicked and quick. “Calling all guards. The prisoners are headed for the main gate. The prisoners are headed for the main gate!”

Octavia lets out a long breath, “That was Monty.”

“Guess he's with us after all.”

“Let’s go.”

You turn and look at Octavia, “Wait, where are we going?”

“A cave nearby. Bellamy’s there waiting with Indra.”

“Why isn’t he here?”

Her face hardens, and you realize now that her brother’s actions weighed on her more than you previously realized. “I don’t trust him.”

You don’t have long to analyze anything, why he's alone with Indra, when did Octavia stop trusting Bellamy, when did Bellamy decide to save you, because your mother reminds you all of your current situation. “We have to move.”

Octavia turns and runs out first, and you all follow, sneaking through the building as quickly and as quietly as you can. She leads you straight to the hidden corridor, where Harper is waiting. Lincoln and Octavia stand guard at the door, as the rest of you form an assembly line and pass gear to each other. Then Harper steps into the hidden exit, followed by Bryan, Miller, and Sinclair. Kane motions for your mother to go next, but she shakes her head. You both turn to her in shock, and she looks between the two of you. “I'm not going. They need someone to show them the way out of the dark. Besides, I-”

Before she can finish her sentence, Kane surprises you both by grabbing her and pulling her into a kiss, leaving you to watch on in shock. When they pull away, Kane whispers, “May we meet again.”

“We will.”

She turns to you, suddenly remembering that you’re there, and you see her cheeks go pink with embarrassment. You pull her in for a hug, whispering, “I approve.”

She smiles as she releases you, and reaches up to touch the moon that hangs around your neck. “Be safe, little moon.”

“You too.”

She quickly turns away from you and Kane both, before she can change her mind, and slips out of the corridor. Octavia and Lincoln take that as their cue to leave, and they come over to you, preparing to get into the corridor next. But before they can, Pike’s voice comes through Octavia’s radio. “I have a message for the traitors in this camp. There will be an execution today. Either turn yourselves in, or the other Grounder prisoners will die in your place.”

You all turn and look at Lincoln as Pike says it, all of you thinking the same thing. Octavia pushes him towards the exit, whispering, “Let's go.”

He turns and pushes past her, heading towards the hallway, back toward the guards. “I can't let them die because of me.”

“Lincoln, please. We're almost out.”

Kane grabs his arm, trying to lead him back to the exit. “I know what you're feeling, but they're searching the station. We need to go now.”

Lincoln nods, looking at Kane, Octavia, and you. “You should.”

“Fine. I'm going with you.” She steps closer to him, looking up at him. “Oso throu daun ogeda.”

We fight together. Lincoln smiles at her, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. “I love you.”

He leans down to kiss her, you and Kane watching on awkwardly, and as you do, you see Lincoln’s hand drop to Octavia’s side, reaching for the vial of extra Reaper drugs that they used on the guards. You don’t know what to do as you watch him pull the vial out and push it into Octavia's neck, doing the same thing to her that Bellamy did to you. As she realizes, you hear her horrified whisper, “No.”

She passes out right after, and Lincoln catches her easily, passing her to Kane. You step towards Lincoln, looking at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Same thing you’d do for your people.”

You give him a serious look, “Yu laik ai kru.”

You are my people. He smiles at you, but it’s sad, and the sight of it hurts your heart. “Just get her out of here. Please.”

You stand looking at him, feeling conflicted, voice pleading, “Lincoln…”

You don’t know what to say, how to stop him from leaving. He pulls you in for a hug, quick and tight, and when he pulls away, he whispers, “A warrior with a heart.”

And the words are enough to stop any further protest you were about to voice, because you understand why he’s doing it. You understand, because you’d do the same thing for your people in a heartbeat. You feel yourself choke up with tears, a heavy weight pressing onto your chest, and you choke out, “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again.”

Lincoln turns to look at Kane. “Keep her safe.”

Kane nods, and answers, “Ste yuj.”

Stay strong. Lincoln nods and backs away, eyes locked on Octavia for as long as he can, before he turns and quickly slips back into the hallways. Kane steps into the exit first, Octavia still in his arms, and you step in behind him, closing the door shut. You move through the exit as quickly as you can, coming out on the other side of the walls of Arkaida. 

You help Kane get Octavia onto Helios, and as you take his lead you hear Miller ask, “Where’s Lincoln?”

You shake your head, unable to voice the words, but he seems to understand because he nods and turns to lead the group through the woods, heading towards the cave Octavia mentioned earlier. As you move through the woods parallel to the camp, leading Helios, Octavia starts to wake up. She tumbles off of Helios, stumbling as she looks through the trees, towards Arkadia. You pass Harper the lead and run after her, and Kane runs after you. Octavia stops at a break in the trees, and you follow her gaze to two figures standing near the gates of the camp.

You realize that it’s Pike and Lincoln, facing each other, and though you can’t hear what they’re saying, you can imagine. Lincoln drops to his knees, and you feel a lurch in your stomach, aware of what’s coming. You see tears rolling down Octavia’s face as she watches the love of her life prepare for his execution, and the sky seems to feel the sadness too, because you hear a low rumble of thunder before rain starts to fall. 

You reach out for Octavia, wrapping an arm around her as you feel tears start to choke you up. You watch as Lincoln’s gaze lifts to the sky, and Pike comes to stand at Lincoln’s side. His hand drops down, pulling his pistol from his holster, before his arm lifts slowly, aiming for Lincoln’s head. Pike seems to freeze, and for a minute you think he's going to change his mind and spare Lincoln’s life.

But then the shot rings out.

Lincoln falls to the ground.

And Octavia falls apart.

-

next chapter

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Dating a tattoo artist

Imagine: being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

This was a fun idea I had. I hope you like it. Enjoy ❤️

Victor Creed

-he is here for it

-since his loooooonnnnggg life is well long he loves to tells stories of tattoo artists he met Japan, Brazil, New York, New Zeland...

-and you can bet that he will have the most elaborate tattoo you can think of since he said so

'You want a tattoo? From me?'

'Yes, I trust you.'

'That's the problem, Vic, you could end up with a dolphin tattoo on your arm.'

'.... Well... I still trust you?'

-after that, he was a little bug just to be on your good side which you took full advantage of

Being on top, commanding him? Sure

Handing you the remote even though it's next to you? Of course

Helping you choose an outfit even though you are indecisive and he has a short fuse? Hell yeah.

-when the day came you tattooed him a small quote that described him

"Tough times never last but tough people do"

(Robert H. Shuller)

'I love it. Thank you kitten.'

Loki Laufeyson

-Since he was in the cell for most of his life (in my universe that's the worst thing happening for him, he didn't die nor his mother) he doesn't know what a tattoo artist is he thinks that's an alternative art form he is supportive

-after you talk to him describing the definition of tattoos and the art behind it he is very much perplexed

'So mortals pay you to pierce their skin with black ink to paint...something????'

'Tattoo something on their skin and yes.'

'With pain in mind?????'

'Yes, and it looks awesome.'

-when he heard the story of your tattoo shop he decided to tag along to see the magic

-he saw how men and women tattooed others while they squirmed in their seats he chuckled at the sight of it

'Darling you could have told me.'

'What?'

'You torture people with the needle machines and coax them into paying you. Brilliant.'

'Suree~~~~'

-he stayed with you to help you with the pain giving without a medical license

'I'm a God. I'm above it.'

'No one is above the Inspection.'

Thor Odinson

-since his depression and weight gain he is very much informed of the world of MTV tattoo show "How far is tattoo far?"

-so he very much thinks that tattoos are a stamp of disgrace

-and keeping that in mind he is frazzled why are you doing a job like that

'You are a shame barer?'

'Shame-what...? Thor! I'm not. The show is a disgrace to the tattoo world.'

'Shame~~barer~~~'

'Just come with me and spend one day and see it for yourself.'

-Thor is reluctant much to his words but still, you sat him down in the waiting lobby he chats up the customers a.k.a big muscular dudes that are already tattooed from the neck down

'So... what is your shame? What horrible deed have you done to come here?'

'Excuse me!?'

'You must be here to condemn your shame by immortalizing it with a flesh sticker.'

-at this point, the muscle dude stood up ready to attack Thor but you intervene quickly

'Marc, stop!'

-the man turned around hiding his tight fist behind his back

'Y/n, already done? That's fast.'

'Marc, you know that you were released 7 months ago and you are still on parole. Come on. Stop it.'

'He insulted me and-and my tattoos. Your tattoos. You know how am about your work.'

-Thor hears that as stands up grabbing Marc's arm examining the tattoos in amazement

'My darling, I want that felsh sticker as he has.'

'.......... Sure........ Wait here. Let's go, Marc. I need to vent.'

Steve Rogers

-Steve knows what tattoos are since he has seen the stick and poke of his fellow soldiers but never a photorealistic tattoo in your portfolio

-he is very much intrigued how you made that look like a real person on someone's skin knowing very well there is no eraser

-loves to ask how do you achieve such colors that simply jump out or how you make a fabric that of a shirt or some patterns, he is armed with questions

-and since he is an art wizard himself he loves to have a painting duel with you, you paint on his skin with watercolors and he paints on the canvas

-that's one of his favorite moments

'What did you draw?'

'A dolphin kissing a penguin.'

'What?!'

'Just kidding I painted the building in Brooklyn where you lived.'

'Did I tell you how much I love you?'

Bucky Barnes

-this man thrives to see you fulfill your dream and passion

-especially when he picks you up, he parks the car exiting it and walking in seeing you talk to your employees and customers exchanging stories and laughs even though in the near distance is the buzzing sounds of the machine guns

-you see him and grab his hand giving him a peck on his lips as a cheeky grin is stuck on his face

-as you talk about your day he always asks the question

'Were there any wusses?'

-alluding to men who cried out form the stinging pain, eventually tapping out to take a break

'Yes, a big dude Marc. Ordered a neck tattoo with details. Tapped out in 15 minutes.'

'I knew it!'

-he enjoys in the hilarious stories you can make up... I mean tell

Bruce Wayne

-you already know the drill he has money he will give it to you but politely delined

-he tried to help with purest of heart but still, the answer was no

-he loved to see your shop filled with many customers as he walked incognito, sunglasses and a cap saying he wasn't a private appointment with the head tattooer

-Let's just say you were pretty much in tears of laughter as he reveled his face

'At least you tried, Bruce.'

-he loves to talk about tattoos and the process of healing if it's on top of a scar

-you are hooked on the conversation and even make him some sketches

'A huge dragon on your back with black and gold lining.'

'Okay but how about initials of my parents?'

'That sounds... Better much much better.'

-so the day of his tattooing comes you tattoo in his inner arm putting the letter T. & M. W.

'Thank you Princess.'

Clark Kent

-Clark loves to see the vast tattoos so much that he wants one but he knows that his body will "absorb" the tattoo too fast making it disappear in a few months maybe weeks

-but still, he loves to see how your gaze is sharp focused on the tattooing even when HE walks that is how much you are focused

'Alrighty, Marc you are done.'

'Thanks, Y/n, you are the best.'

-Clark also loves to hear the influx of comments of your artistry even if he's a little jealous

-he loves to see just how much you are happier to follow this insane passion

'You are an inspiration Y/n.'

'Why?'

'Because... You just are.'

Arthur Curry

-you already know that Fishman is tatted to perfection and he is here for a tattoo lover as well

-if you ever have someone asking for a Maori style tattoo Arthur will be a fair judge, that's what he says

Case#1

'Why do you want a Maori tattoo?'

'Um, sir beca-'

'It's Mr. Aquaman. Continue.'

'Oh, sorry. Mr. Aquaman, I want it because I find them cool.'

'Just cool? Do you think that the abundant culture of Maori people is cool? Go home boy.

Case #2

'You want a Ta Moko? Do you what that is?'

'Sur-sure, it's a tattoo of the Maori people.'

'Ufff... Do you know how much of a meaning Ta Moko carries? Why don't you go to the Yakuzas and get a tebori.'

'They would kill me.'

'Of course, and I'll whoop your uncultured ass with my two hands.'

-you turned to the now pale boy

'Run.'

-the man ran like the wind as the Aquaman caught him easily giving him a cultural lesson of Ta Moko

Orm Marius

-he kinda has a small soft spot for tattoos especially those with a loving meaning lover, family...

-and he likes to "inform himself" about it so he asks a ton of questions even asking what kind of tattoo would suit him

'I think a small red tattoo would suit your taste.'

'I like the tattoos who can hold audios.'

-with that sentence, he left you frazzled as you google and got the special ink kit gifting it to Orm as a present for being a nice guy and not killing anyone

-he immediately records his audio in secrecy and handing you the ink

-after you tattoo the ink you hand him your phone with the app to scan the audio

'Hey, Orm. I'm just reminding you that I love you. So much. It's Y/n if you forget... Somehow.'

-later that day you doused him with kisses

Joker

-that man oozes with tattoos *cough*damaged*cough*

-and you can bet that he wants more of them he brings into your home the whole tattoo parlor just so he can have a private session with sex mixed in

-you gladly tattoo him patching up some of his tattoos he has outgrown them

'Why did you tattoo Kick Me on your back?'

'I won a bet.'

'Are you sure you won?'

'For sake of this question I did.'

-you cover the kick me tattoo with a large red dragon with green eyes

-he stands up looking at the tattoo in the mirror

'Sweets, you just got a huge tip.'

Duncan Vizla

-for him, tattoo nowadays are dumb in his time tattoos were means of solidarity with people who are bounded by the same ink and gun

-but keeps his mouth shut about it not to offend your dream even if it's tattooing dancing hotdogs

-he loves to pass your parlor when he finishes grocery shopping just to see you in action

-he loves to arrive at the parlor if you are doing a night shift just to keep you safe and in good company

-he loves to bring you lunch and watch you eat it with such content and happiness

-it melts his heart and just wants to make you more food

-but as he is present for the good he is here for the bad

-if he is somewhere anywhere you just need to call him and he is there in a minute be it a drunken person not wanting to exit or an aggressive man trying to grope someone in the shop

-he is ready to kill them if you say so

'You okay sweetheart?'

'Um-yeah...Thank you Donut.'

'Nonsense. That's my duty.'

[wellsjahasghost]

Why didn't you like season 5 and season 6 bellarke? Like season 5 was kind of a mess but season 6?

SKDJFHDSK anon why do you wanna open this can of worms... 

disclaimer that if you loved post-praimfaya blarke, do ya thang. im glad you liked it and this is just how i see it. im not looking to fight people on this, so im not gonna respond to ~~rebuttals, let's just let each other live lmao.

(negativity about s5-6 under the cut!)

i gave up on blarke in season 5 after the whole clarke slapping bellamy and leaving him to die thing. like, it broke my heart. i remember having to go take a walk after that episode and sort out my feelings and realized it was time to let go. because so much of what i had loved about them had become broken and i knew the show didnt have the self awareness of what they had broken to ever fix it.

however season 6 blarke was 10000x WORSE because-- it wasn’t heartbreaking, it was just plain bland.

and that was so so so so so much worse. like, i actually skipped many of their scenes in season 6 because they were so CRINGE.

i get the impression that this was the first season where they knew from the get-go that they weren’t going to do romantic blarke. like every other season i kind of get the impression they debated it episode to episode but this season was one big platonic NOPE (with some random bait thrown in near the end! yay!)

example: at least in s5 we had clarke jealously watching b.cho make out but in s6 bellamy (who no longer acted/felt like the bellamy i knew anyway) was like “happiness looks good on you, i take it you had fun with the doctor last night” SKDJFHSKJ I ACTUALLY VOMITED IN MY MOUTH A LITTLE THAT WAS SO HUMILIATING

not only that, but it felt at this point in the show that the writers didn’t really *know* bellarke (or really any of the characters) anymore. i can understand this because they were mostly new writers and most of the writers who had written the best blarke moments had left the show a long time ago. anyway, the result of this was that blarke started feeling more like just any generic CW ship that is clearly not going anywhere but gets baited every so often. their scenes were stale and there was no longer any depth to them. dialogue was cringey/recycled. romo scenes were also completely unoriginal and again, could have been slapped onto any CW couple without even changing the lines lmao-- quite dramatic but lacking depth, and then of course no follow through. the CPR scene .... was that. 

to put it one way, the way the show depicted bellarke no longer felt honest. it felt shallow, it felt forced, it felt like the show no longer remembered who they were, just short cut ways of trying to emulate it like repeatedly throwing “head and heart” into scenes. 

the reason i loved bellarke so much was that they were so unique. their bond had depth, their emotional beats had follow through, their love was SHOWN through even small things. like you could COUNT on the show to give you these things. their relationship was treated with respect and there was so much care taken in it. but post-s4? like truly blarke became just like every other ship ??? you had to headcanon in all emotional beats yourself?? zero follow through?? go insane over LESS than crumbs?? 

(to be fair there is ONE moment in season 6 that reminded me of the old bellarke. it was this scene where bellamy talks to clarke through josephine. it felt organic, and the Soft way he looks through josie to clarke is so reminiscent of old times. “i won’t let you die” gave me the heart flutter. just to give credit where it’s due)

anyway. i have learned to separate the bellarke i fell in love with from the later seasons of the show. they changed me and inspired me and i’ll never forget that. and that version of them will always live on in my heart.