#never mind that we already know her 'distorted future' forms are temporary

[kurozu501]

:')

this is actually so much better then i could ever have hoped. she's literally his little sister, a little mini nika, joy girl learning how to be free and punch fascists in the face from her idol. i NEED them to do cartoon shenanigans nonstop next chapter.

finally caught up on the one piece manga last night and i need all the combat and lore reveals to stop right now so we can just have a fun slice of life scene where luffy in nika mode plays games with bonney, turns the ground into rubber so she can bounce on it, gives her gum gum punch lessons, etc.

[ahkaahshi]

1:32 AM [hirugami sachirou x reader]

pairing: hirugami sachirou x fem reader

genre: fluff with sprinkles of angst

warning(s): descriptions of catastrophic thinking/anxiety, brief mentions of death, swearing

word count: 2.5k

overview: when hirugami’s old habits of rumination come back to haunt him, there’s only one person who can bring him peace

By the time it’s 1:32 AM, Hirugami has spent no less than a half hour staring at the digitized numbers of the alarm clock cutting through the darkness, watching the precious seconds and minutes of sleep tick away before his eyes. A strange haze hangs over him, and it’s as if his ears have been stuffed with cotton, amplifying all the thoughts pounding against his skull. For a moment, there’s an eerie silence in his head, during which he can hear the leaves whispering in the breeze outside of his window, and he thinks he’s finally falling asleep, but the quietude is painfully temporary.

With a heavy sigh, he turns on his back and stares up at the ceiling, giving his thoughts a moment to surface individually, like bubbles rising to meet the daylight shining down on a body of water.

When will what I do ever be enough?

Did I really choose the right path in life?

Would I still feel this way if my life had played out differently?

When will these thoughts stop?

Rumination is nothing new to him. Despite being able to keep the habit tucked away for a majority of his high school years with both yours and Hoshiumi’s help, he finds that it often comes back to haunt him at the most unexpected times. His week at work had been as smooth as it could be given he was a busy veterinarian, yet he’d felt a knot of something—uncertainty?—forming within him over the course of the past few days. Where it had originated from he had no clue, but it was proving to be a formidable opponent now, in the late hours of the evening while the rest of the neighborhood slept.

The journal on his bedside table catches his attention, and as much as he knows he should take a moment to pen down his troubles in an attempt to put them to rest, his hands feel too heavy to move. Just making the simple trip from his chest to the table feels like the most effortful task in the universe. He does, however, find the strength and motivation to reach for his phone lying beside him where he’d tossed it in agony after realizing he was using it far too long after bedtime.

His eyelids instinctively narrow at the sudden influx of light that spills onto his face from the screen when he turns it on, even though the brightness is at its lowest setting. Lazy drags of his fingertips find him face to face with your smiling contact photo, and sluggish taps compose a more to-the-point text message than he usually sends asking if you’re still awake. Gray dots appearing, then promptly disappearing along the bottom of his screen proves that you are—and in an instant, he’s answering a call from you.

“What’s up, Sachi?” you ask, voice more chipper than he’d expect at this hour.

“Nothin’ much,” he lies with a yawn. Hearing his voice weighted so heavily with fatigue makes your heart sink in your chest. “What’re you up to?”

He can hear rustling through the phone as you readjust the blankets ensconcing you to pull them up to your shoulders again. Gazing at your glowing computer screen, you respond, “Just watching a movie,” before asking, “Everything okay?”

“Just having trouble getting to sleep, is all,” he explains, the words leaving his mouth in another exasperated groan, “So, I thought I’d talk to my favorite person if she was still awake.”

Jokingly, you comment, “I won’t tell Kourai you said that, yeah?”

He chuckles. “Thanks.”

A comfortable moment of silence passes, during which you shuffle your feet beneath the covers to warm them up and he allows his eyelids to flutter shut so he can focus his full attention on the sound of your voice when you speak again. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Don’t you get tired of it, (f/n)?”

“Of what, baby?”

“Of listening to me talk myself in circles when I’m like this and hearing about the same issues over and over again?”

Though there’s a hint of irritation laced in his tone, you know it’s directed at himself rather than at you. “Sachi, you can talk about whatever you want as much as you want. I know how much you keep to yourself, so it’s okay. I just want to help, since I know how exhausting it must be for you to deal with.” There’s a short pause, and you know from experience that his mind is most likely distorting your words, forming them into daggers he sinks into his own heart. “I promise, it’s okay to talk to me about it. Trust me.”

He blinks slowly, takes a deep breath, and agrees, “Okay.”

Pursing your lips, you glance around the darkness of your room until your eyes settle on the bag you’d already packed, ready to take to his house for your scheduled weekend visits. “Would it help if you could see my face?” you wonder, your mouth curling up into a small grin regardless of the fact that he can’t see it.

“Well,” he hums, dragging his long fingers through his chestnut brown hair, “you know I’d never turn down the opportunity to see my gorgeous girlfriend, but you’ll have to give me a minute to touch up my makeup.”

With a snicker, you retort, “You’ll have plenty of time to pull yourself together if I just come over instead.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, sweetheart. Not at this ungodly hour.”

“And you didn’t,” you reaffirm, “but I want to, so, will you let me visit a whole—” you interrupt yourself to check the time before continuing—“eight and a half hours earlier than we’d originally planned?”

“I would love that,” is his answer given without hesitation despite his initial, intrusive thought of being burdensome to you by allowing you to drive over so early in the morning.

And even though he feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the spiral of negative ideas swirling around him like the raging waters of a whirlpool, he doesn’t regret accepting your invitation when you arrive about twenty minutes later. Upon opening the door to your car for you, he’s greeted by your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close for a tight hug that instantly engulfs him in a warm feeling of comfort that he can’t liken to anything else he’s ever felt before from anyone else. He holds your body flush against his—even after he’s felt your grip loosen in a signal to pull away that then tightens once more at realizing he’s not quite finished yet—and acknowledges the guilt that suddenly rises within him.

How could I ever want to know how things could’ve been different when I have her?

“Thanks for coming,” he whispers, craning his neck to press a kiss to yours before finally releasing you and slinging your bag over his shoulder. The wave of cold air that rushes between your bodies at their separation nearly makes you reach for him again, but you settle for latching onto his hand instead while the two of you make your way up to his apartment. “You made it here in record time, speed racer.”

Chuckling, you joke, “Drove like I was answering a booty call.”

“I’m truly flattered.”

The gentle smile across his lips has your heart skipping a beat in your chest but doesn’t hide the fatigue clearly present on his handsome features. His hand on your back gently ushers you inside the familiar warmth of his home when he unlocks the door, and you make a beeline to his bedroom once you’ve kicked off your shoes. A look of amusement glimmers in his eyes at how quickly you settle yourself down in his bed and bury yourself under his comforter and blankets.

As he climbs into bed beside you, your hands move to the sides of his face to pull him towards you for a gentle kiss. “What’s going on, Sachi?” you murmur after your lips part. He sits on the mattress beside you, and the sinking of the bed naturally draws you closer to one another until your arms are wrapped around his torso and his draped over your shoulders.

“Just the usual,” he sighs, fingers absentmindedly grazing the fabric of your sweater, “You know, the whole wondering if I’ve done everything right bit. My mind just loves reminding me of my mistakes and going through how I could’ve handled things differently, even if the thing in question happened, like, five years ago.”

You hum understandingly and nod, focusing on his words to keep yourself awake—which is a challenge when his body feels like a lullaby.

“I’m still hung up over that dog we couldn’t save last month. Every day, I find myself thinking of the moment when his heartbeat just… stopped. And the look in his owner’s eyes when I told her he hadn’t made it. And I just wonder, what could I have done differently to keep him alive?”

He swallows thickly and breathes out a somewhat frustrated sigh. “And I replay the arguments I’ve had with people—and with you—in my head, wondering what I could’ve done to prevent them. But I know that hindsight’s twenty-twenty and that if I’d have known the answer or what was to come beforehand then it never would’ve happened to begin with. It’s so frustrating because I know this, I’ve been able to accept mistakes and let them go, yet I still beat myself up really badly over things every now and then.”

Moving away from him slightly so you can look up at him, into his weary but kind and welcoming gaze, you place your hands on his shoulders and give him a small smile. “Baby,” you say with an affectionate squeeze to his muscles, “these shoulders of yours are so strong, but they’re meant for carrying backpacks, me when I want a piggyback ride, or any kids we may or may not have in the future; not the weight of the world.”

He tilts his head to the side so he can lower his cheek onto one of your hands, spreading heat across your skin. With the way he’s watching you so intently, you can tell how much he values your words as well as the fact that you’re here, sitting in front of him instead of gazing at him through a screen.

Slowly, speaking as the thoughts enter your mind, you assure him, “It’s okay to fuck up. How would we learn if we didn’t?” You stroke his cheek with your thumb before your fingers move to his head of waves tousled haphazardly from whatever restless sleep he’d been able to get.

“Just remind yourself of the way you usually deal with mistakes. Acknowledge them, say yeah, that happened, and it sucked ass, but I’ll do better next time, and let go of them. I mean, I know it’s way, way easier said than done, but you’re really good at it. Remember all those times in high school I came to you, freaking out over the smallest things that I’d done? Who am I kidding? I still do that; but, anyway, it’s always been you who’s helped me. Give yourself the same permission to mess up.”

Your boyfriend of many years heaves a deep sigh as he lets the truth of your statements pass through his internal filter that does a fine job, unfortunately, in this case, of sifting through only the ideas he wants to believe. Though they’re met with initial resistance that only manifests as a defense mechanism, all your words manage to remain after the process like the smallest pieces of gold hidden amongst layers and layers of sediment.

Taking your hand in his, you tell him, “There aren’t really any right or wrong decisions, and I know you know that. They’re just choices you make. Mistakes are gonna happen no matter what, but you’re gonna be okay. I know you, Hirugami Sachirou, and I know how strong and determined you are. You can do what you set your mind to and with that smile on your face some people find annoying—” the grin in question appears on his lips, making you laugh—“Yeah, that one. So, get it into that big brain of yours that you’re doing your best or I’ll have to rough you up a bit.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“As you should be.”

In an instant, the heavy layers of worry that had restricted him before unravel at your definitive statement, and he’s laughing while he pulls you into his arms once more. As always, his laughter is contagious, and it’s not long before you’re doing the same, body shaking against his. “Don’t unleash your wrath on me, baby; I’ll listen, I promise. And I’ll make your favorite for breakfast tomorrow,” he concedes with a teasing tone, a yawn whisking some of his words away.

“We have a deal,” you chirp, “Now, let’s go to sleep. It’s way past your bedtime, gramps.”

He complains, “You callin’ me old?” as your bodies sink down onto the soft mattress, his head pausing in its natural course towards your chest so it can hover above yours. “’Cause I found more gray hairs than I’d like to admit when I was doing my hair yesterday, so I’m actually really self-conscious about it.”

Sticking out your lower lip in a sympathetic pout, you comment, “I said you were old, but I didn’t say that you weren’t hot.”

“So, I’ve still got it, huh?”

“You’re basically a silver fox.”

A soft hum of contentment rumbles against your lips when he presses his to them to shower you with a few, affectionate kisses. Eventually, he pulls away and pecks your chin on his way to your neck, where he nestles his head as your arms readjust to accommodate his body coming to rest against yours. “Thanks, (f/n),” he mumbles, voice suddenly heavy and lethargic compared to how it had been moments earlier, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Your fingers card through his hair softly as he takes a deep breath and slides his palm along the back of your thigh to coax it around his waist so he can move his body even closer to yours. While the two of you lie together, surrounded in warmth, feeling the gentle beating of each other’s hearts against your bodies, Hirugami finds he has nothing left to worry about—no thoughts left to disturb him. And, because his mind is finally quiet and still, the ruminating beast within him quelled by your honest words and gentle touch, sleep finally comes just as easily to him as loving you does.

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[raywritesthings]

Things as They Should Be

My Writing Fandom: Arrow, The Flash Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Barry Allen, Nyssa al Ghul, Eobard Thawne, Malcolm Merlyn, John Diggle, Felicity Smoak, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Joe West, Eddie Thawne, Thea Queen, Quentin Lance, Ra’s al Ghul, Ronnie Raymond Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel, acting in Oliver's stead, arrives in Central City too late to help relocate the prisoners; but Reverse Flash sees an opportunity to correct an error in the timeline. Meanwhile, Oliver has had some second thoughts regarding his affairs of the heart. These two things collide on the rooftop where Sara Lance died. / Liberal rearranging of the timeline *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

Laurel wished she could simply cherish the moment. Oliver had finally acknowledged her, not just as a somewhat useful ally, but as someone he trusted to watch over the city in place of himself. An equal. 

She’d been waiting for it for so long, it seemed ridiculous to be feeling only a mix of elation and dread. It wasn’t fear or doubt for herself causing it; it was for him. Oliver wouldn’t be asking this unless he had no choice.

Unless he felt he wasn’t coming back.

She wasn’t stupid. He’d been saying goodbye the only way he knew how; by not saying it to her at all. Not face-to-face, anyway. Something was seriously wrong with Thea, and it was her friend’s condition that stopped her from demanding that Oliver explain the whole story first. Thea’s health was more important than Laurel knowing where and why he was really going. She could survive him leaving; she had done it before.

This city would need to survive, too. With that in mind, Laurel returned to the temporary base of operations they’d been working out of inside Palmer Tech. She’d have to make sure she was staying on top of any news or alerts, especially with Felicity leaving on the plane as well.

There was an unread message sent from STAR Laboratories. Laurel clicked on it, brow furrowing as she realized it was Barry Allen and his team requesting Oliver’s help in… moving prisoners? Was this more of that black-site prison stuff? But it seemed the prisoners were in danger of dying if they remained where they were. Okay, so this was important.

Was it more important than the whole city? She had just been tasked with being its guardian, could she really just leave to go help a different one?

Oliver would, if it was to help a friend. He was always there when it counted, when he could be. And she at least considered Cisco a friend, if only because she hadn’t had much chance to get to know the others in Central. This would be that chance.

Laurel sent the message on to Lyla to see if their ARGUS ally could send any immediate aid before going home to pack and call in a personal day from her job. She took the first train that left for Central, wishing that the highs-speed one that had been approved by City Council and their recently-deceased mayor was already finished.

By the time she found her way to the lab that Team Flash used for their base, it appeared deserted. The place was huge, though, so Laurel went down a few levels just to search and be sure. She should have thought to send a message ahead, but she didn’t actually have any of their numbers.

There was a strange humming noise coming from down a hallway. There was a circle opening into a wide, cavernous space. She supposed it was the infamous particle accelerator. Laurel looked this way and that, noticing a number of empty cubes. She wondered what they were for.

A streak of lighting appeared suddenly in the middle of the room. It rushed towards her like the footage she had seen of Barry in action on the news. Laurel tensed; something about this didn’t seem friendly.

She felt herself grabbed and thrown, too fast for her to see anything but a whirl of color and light before her back slammed painfully into something solid. Laurel hit the floor, groaning, and heard the whirr of something mechanical. She pushed back up onto her feet, quickly realizing she was in one of the cubes and that the door to it was closing. She ran forward, but even as she did she could tell she’d be crushed if she tried to slip under the closing gap.

A man in a suit like the Flash’s, but yellow stood grinning on the other side, watching her.

“Hey!” She pounded against the glass, but it barely seemed to budge. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What should have been done already.” His voice was distorted with an underlying threat that Oliver’s own modulated tones had never held. “You’ll thank me someday.”

Without another word, he vanished. Laurel’s breath came quick as she paced the tiny space, punching and kicking at every wall to no avail. That humming noise was so much louder now, and she couldn’t imagine it would be good to be here for whatever that signaled.

Who even was that guy? How could she have screwed up so badly already? This wasn’t what Oliver would have wanted. It wasn’t what she wanted.

Laurel let out one last yell in anger as she kicked out, and a great boom rocked the tiny cell she’d found herself trapped in, throwing her senseless to the floor.

---

Eobard studied his plans for the time capsule for the umpteenth time while ignoring his ancestor still strapped to the chair behind him. It was all coming together quickly now. As soon as he could convince Barry to agree to the plan — assuming Barry would.

He was fairly confident he would. Eobard has spent years watching this Barry Allen grow up, subtly and then more overtly influencing him and his decisions, his very way of thinking. If given the chance to save his mother, how could he pass that up?

There was the Flash’s heroic streak, of course. Perhaps the anger at Eobard would outweigh his desire to be reunited with Nora. In case of that, Eobard had been doing what he could to ensure enough of the old timeline was being re-established, in case he had to make his way into the future on his own. Some things had been eluding him, of course, but at least he had finally broken his ancestor of the belief that Iris West was ever meant to be a part of their family tree.

As he continued revising his calculations, a beep of the alarms he had set up around the labs caught his attention. Eobard went to his computers to check.

“Uh-oh. A little birdie.”

He could hear the detective straining to see behind him. “What… what are you talking about?”

“Just some unexpected company.” He watched Dinah Laurel Lance slowly making her way through the cortex and then down, closer and closer towards the pipeline. And as he did, an idea began to form.

One of the more elusive elements that had been bothering him about this timeline was Star — or still Starling — City. The Green Arrow was not what he was supposed to be. His traditional allies had been shunted aside for other players, and he was mooning over an upstart from MIT of all people. The Black Canary wasn’t what she was supposed to be either. But, he might have just been handed a way to fix that.

Eobard went to the controls for the accelerator, up the launch time. He had enough speed to achieve this, and Eddie Thawne would be safe down here while he ran his little experiment.

“Just a little more repair work on the timeline. It’s good insurance,” he explained offhand, not that he felt his ancestor could really begin to comprehend the finer details. “Miss Lance has offered me a wonderful opportunity that I simply can’t pass up.”

Cisco was a genius, but even his tech couldn’t really hope to compete with the power of the real Canary Cry.

“What are you going to do to her?”

“It won’t kill her. In fact, it really will only make her stronger.” Assuming he got his calculations right. It’d be easier if his ancestor remained quiet.

Not even the pipeline cells could remain fully impervious to the activated accelerator; it was why Barry was amusingly taking the time to evacuate criminals they had been holding for several months now. The partial protection would suit his purposes nicely; enough to keep Black Canary alive, but enough also to allow her DNA to be changed and quickly at that. They had over a year’s worth of development to make up for, after all.

He donned his suit and raced up the ladder, spotting her just poking a curious head into the pipeline. Her eyes widened for a split second before he grabbed her, throwing her none-too-gently into an open cell and slamming the button to bring the hatch down. He gave her credit; she shook herself and rose quickly to her feet, but wasn’t fast enough to rush back out before the hatch slid shut.

“Hey!” Her fist pummeled the glass uselessly as she glared out at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What should have been done already.” He couldn’t resist putting the reverb into his voice, enjoying the way she eyed him warily. “You’ll thank me someday.”

Rather than return to the basement, Eobard ran up and out of the labs, knowing that, if Barry found him on the premises after he had seemingly hurt one of his little friends, he would be less inclined to be reasoned with regarding his idea to reset things.

He would need to lay low now for another little while. Until the accelerator had had time to cool down before reuse. It would delay his plans to return to his time, but he could wait a little longer. He had already waited fifteen years.

---

Barry couldn’t believe he had screwed up so badly. Joe had tried to warn him, but he just didn’t listen. Now Cold had let all the metas get away, except Deathbolt anyway, and whatever crimes they went on to commit would be Barry’s fault.

He had tried to do things the smart guy way like Oliver, and he had failed.

Joe’s words of comfort helped him feel a little better, but he wished his friend were here to give him advice, even if it was to tell Barry just where and how he had gone wrong.

They were interrupted by Cisco rapping his knuckles on the doorway. “Sorry guys. Just… we got a problem.”

They regrouped in the cortex. “The accelerator is in cool down mode,” Cisco told them.

“So, what, Wells was just bluffing?” Joe asked.

“We don’t think so. We think it may have activated while we were gone,” said Caitlin. “And there’s something else.” Biting her lip, she turned one of the monitor screens to face them.

It was a view of one of the pipeline cells. A woman was laying on her side, blonde hair spilling over her face.

Barry’s heart dropped into his stomach. “No. No, we got everybody out. I triple-checked!” She didn’t even look like any of the metas, and it couldn’t be Bates either since he’d been accidentally killed while impersonating Reverse Flash.

He rushed down to the pipeline, opening the outer door and waiting impatiently as it rose before racing to the occupied cell. He opened that as well, waiting until he could just clear it before ducking inside. With greater care, he knelt by the body and slowly brushed her hair aside. His eyes widened and his heart gave another constriction.

It was Laurel.

What was the lawyer he had briefly met in Starling City doing here? And yet, he recalled Felicity’s mention of her becoming a vigilante… had she come here to help them after all? He didn’t know how he could forgive himself, much less look Oliver in the face again, if she was—

Running footsteps signaled the arrival of the others. “It’s Laurel,” he called out to them. “One of Oliver’s friends.”

Cisco’s voice sounded particularly distressed. “Black Canary?”

“Careful not to move her,” Caitlin advised at his elbow. The doctor leaned down, touching Laurel’s neck with two fingers and then listening at her mouth. “There’s a pulse and she’s breathing,” she announced to the whole group.

Cisco made a choked sort of sound, and Barry sat back as relief washed over him. He saw Laurel’s fingers twitch and her eyelids flutter. She drew in a deeper, raspier breath before coughing a few times.

Caitlin pressed a hand between the other woman’s shoulder blades and another rested on her shoulder. “Easy. Try not to make any sudden movements. We’re not sure what’s happened here.”

“Neither am I,” Laurel said with a grumble in her voice rather like Oliver’s, Barry couldn’t help noting. “Where’d that yellow guy go?”

His amusement evaporated. “Reverse Flash? He was here?”

“If he’s a guy in yellow leather with a creepy voice, yeah, he was. He threw me in here and said something about how I’d thank him for this, then ran away.” Her eyes finally seemed to focus as she added, “I think I’ll thank him with a fist to the face.”

Laurel began coughing again.

“She need water?” Joe asked. Barry shrugged helplessly.

“Laurel, do you think you can get up on your own? I’d like to examine you for any injuries or ill effects with my equipment. I’m kind of the team medic around here. Caitlin Snow.”

“Nice to meet you,” Laurel said. “I think I can get up but… who’s that shouting?”

Barry looked around at the others. “No one’s shouting, Laurel.”

She frowned, slowly rising from the ground. “But I hear…” Abruptly, she passed by Joe and Cisco out of the cell and took off further into the pipeline. Barry hurried to catch up to her.

“Hey, you really should probably be taking it easy,” he advised gently.

“Someone’s calling for help,” Laurel insisted. She stopped and doubled back a couple of steps. “It’s loudest… here.”

There was nothing and no one there, but as Barry looked around, he noticed a barely-visible seam in the floor. It was almost like a square…

Heart pounding, Barry called back to the others, “Guys? Is there supposed to be a trapdoor in here?”

Laurel had winced at his raised voice and rubbed her ear while they heard back a, “No?” from Cisco.

Barry licked his lips. “Stay back, alright?” He tried to move around to block Laurel from any potential view, but she stepped to the side and crossed her arms. Right, fellow hero. He wouldn’t really appreciate it if Oliver tried shielding him from something, would he?

He opened the hatch, peering down into darkness. “Hello?” He called out cautiously. If it was Reverse Flash, he’d given away any element of surprise, but why would the other speedster be calling for help like Laurel claimed?

“Barry?” Eddie’s hoarse voice made him nearly jump out of his skin. “Is that really you?”

He rushed down the ladder and found his friend tied to a chair in a small basement. Barry undid the bonds and rushed back upstairs, Eddie in his arms.

“We found Eddie!”

It was a strange group that made their way up to the cortex again. Caitlin was extremely worried about Eddie’s condition, citing dehydration and possible malnutrition. Joe was on the phone with Iris to let her know to come to the lab. Cisco was pouring over some of the notes they had found down in the secret basement.

“The, uh, transfer,” Laurel said. “Was it already completed?”

“Yeah,” Barry answered, too embarrassed to disclose just how it had been completed.

“Then I think I need to be going. I’m the only one really watching Starling right now.”

“But we haven’t gotten you checked out yet,” Barry reminded her.

“I’m fine. Can’t take painkillers anyway, so I’m used to scrapes and bruises. He needs Caitlin’s attention more,” she added, nodding towards Eddie on the medical cot.

“I still think it wouldn’t hurt to wait.”

“Maybe, but I promised Ollie.”

It struck Barry that he’d never heard the billionaire’s old nickname spoken with such obvious tenderness. “Is something going on?”

Laurel shrugged. “I don’t have all the details. I just know someone needs to be protecting the streets. Thanks for getting me out of that… cell, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it.” He still didn’t know why she had been thrown in one to begin with. What had Reverse Flash been aiming to do? What was his game?

Laurel pulled her bag over her shoulder with just a slight wince and walked out of the cortex. Barry watched her leave the labs on the surveillance footage. Of anyone on the Arrow team, Laurel remained perhaps the biggest mystery to him. How did she fit into the group? Why did she do what she did? She seemed separate from the rest and yet clearly held Oliver close in her heart.

Iris arrived, going straight to Eddie, and Barry looked away. He knew she loved the detective and was happy for them to be reunited, but it only made it a little easier, especially after seeing that newspaper article. What could have been.

He tapped Cisco on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow him out of the room. They headed back down to the pipeline. “What’s up?” His friend asked.

“I just wanna check something. Can you stand in the cell Laurel was in?”

“Okay?” Cisco agreed slowly, moving to do so. Barry ran back down into the basement, closing the hatch behind him. He stood by the chair Eddie had been in and shouted for all he was worth.

“Help! Cisco! I’m down here!”

Barry waited, repeated the exercise and waited some more. Then he rushed back up to the main level of the pipeline.

“Did you hear any of that?”

“Any of what?”

He’d thought so. Barry frowned. It was good that Laurel was okay and even better that she had led them to Eddie, but how had she done it?

---

Something was happening to her student, Nyssa couldn’t help feeling. More troubling than this, something was happening to her friend.

She had never had someone in her life quite like Laurel. Only a few short months ago, she had hardly known her beloved’s sister, yet now she spent her nights training the other woman in the art of combating evil. Nonlethally at that, which was something else new to her.

Laurel improved with each exercise, though she still had a habit of underestimating the cruelty of the common thug. She was an idealist and believed the best of people until spindly shown otherwise. Then, in some cases, she kept stubbornly believing in them anyway.

This particular night, Nyssa watched from a concealed place as Laurel took on her latest foe. The man was armed, though her student took no notice of this — until he lurched back to avoid a swing of Laurel’s nightstick, his jacket hitting the fence. Laurel tensed and shoved her stick under the man’s throat.

“Hands up. Go for your knife and you will regret it.”

Nyssa watched with growing surprise as Laurel soundly disposed of the common street thug. “Well done,” she announced, stepping out into the open. “What caused you to realize his advantage?”

“I heard something metal hit the chain link. It wasn’t heavy enough to be a gun, so a knife,” Laurel answered. Nyssa raised an eyebrow. She had heard? And in the midst of battle?

“Yes, well, he did have two knives,” she felt the need to point out. “We must observe with eyes as well.” Laurel grimaced, so Nyssa added, “I believe we have done enough for now. We should seek food to replenish our energy.”

Laurel suggested they dine on something called a milkshake and added deep fried potatoes to the deal by the time they had reached the restaurant. Unhealthy as it was, Nyssa enjoyed herself until her friend finally confessed to knowing where Oliver Queen had disappeared to of late: he had taken her father’s offer. He had supplanted her, and she knew what that meant for her future.

Nyssa left the restaurant and retrieved her armaments, then made her way to the rooftop where Sara was slain. If she was to die, she would wish it to be on the very same spot her beloved drew her last breath; if she were to be victorious, she would wish to strike her enemy down on that same hallowed ground.

Oliver, or what manner of monster he had become under her father’s care, did not leave her waiting long. He claimed he was to return her to Nanda Parbat, but she would force his hand to deliver the killing blow first.

They dueled, Oliver showing just how much he had learned in his time with the League, the things her father had never really offered to teach her. Nyssa grit her teeth as she felt herself backed up against the roof’s edge just as Sara had been, though it was a sword at her throat instead of an arrow in her chest.

A sound pierced the night, unlike any she had ever heard. The closest she could think of were her beloved’s devices, but they had not been nearly so strong. Nor so visible.

Nyssa could only cringe in pain as glass shattered around them and something like heavy waves of air struck her assailant in his side. He did not keep his feet; instead, her pain was forgotten in a gasp as the man who had once been Oliver Queen went over the edge, the black bow and arrows strapped to his back flying and falling with a clatter.

“Oliver!”

Nyssa whipped her head around towards the source of this unexpected rescue. The shout had come from John Diggle, Oliver’s aid, and the sound… she could only guess had come from Laurel. Laurel, who looked frozen in shock and horror at what she had done.

She had told Nyssa about the adjustments she had asked an engineer to make to Sara’s device, though Nyssa had maintained they would continue to focus on her physical skill set before incorporating such additions. Perhaps that had been in error.

There was a distant bellow of pain, a popping noise and another clang. Nyssa rolled to her feet and peered down. Her adversary still lived.

He was dangling from the rail of a fire escape several flights below, one arm hanging uselessly at his side and at an odd angle. Out of socket. His grip with the other hand was tenuous at best. Did she wait for him to fall? Or would he survive the remaining distance?

Nyssa drew her bow and another arrow as she contemplated, hearing her two allies scrambling across the treacherous roof with its broken skylights. She aimed the arrow down, pointed straight between the eyes.

Something flashed in his expression, and he could not hide it. Fear for his life, something no one truly brainwashed by the League ever felt. There was Oliver behind his eyes. He seemed to know she had seen it too, for he grimaced and spoke just as Laurel and John Diggle joined her: “Little help, please?”

---

Oliver couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. All he knew was one arm was on fire, the other was not far behind it, his ankle had collided painfully with something metal that without putting weight on it he couldn’t test the possible damage and his ears were ringing. His whole body felt like it was still ringing.

John and Laurel hurried down the fire escape to him, hauling him up though he couldn’t quite hold in another yelp and he collapsed into Digg’s side as soon as he was standing. His ankle was damaged in some way.

“Ollie, are you — I wasn’t trying to do that,” Laurel said in a rush.

“Yeah? What exactly were you trying?” He grumbled.

“Sara’s sonic bombs, I had Cisco reconfigure them but something’s wrong.”

“Something’s wrong, alright. The thing broke and that sound still came out. Come on, we gotta get back to the base before the police come check out the noise disturbance.”

“Where is the base?” He wondered idly as they helped him limp along.

Nyssa joined them as John and Laurel helped him into the back of the van, and Oliver let his head drop back to rest as he breathed in and out. He needed to push the pain to the back of his mind in order to think, because his plan had just gone sideways.

The others knew it was an act now. They would never believe that he had been fully brainwashed by the League, even if he went back to Nanda Parbat tonight. And if he did go back, would he even be alive tomorrow? Ra’s would have to know he had lost this fight and that his team had nursed his wounds. He would know he was being played. What did they do now?

Malcolm wasn’t here to propose a new strategy. Malcolm would probably be furious that their current strategy had been ruined. That it had been at Laurel’s hands… well, even Oliver could appreciate that irony.

He could feel her eyes on him. Nervous, worried, guilty. Oliver found himself reaching out with his good arm and taking her hand. Maybe he was too tired to maintain the distant facade anymore. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he’d just missed her too much.

Of everyone, he hadn’t given her a proper goodbye, yet he knew she’d understood what he was trying to say all the same, and she’d accepted it. As always.

He wished he had asked her to make the journey with them, that she’d been there to help Thea through the worst of the Lazarus Pit’s effects. More than anyone, he could trust Laurel to take care of his sister for no other reason than because she already cared for her. She had beyond proven that to him when she had thrown his fear and doubt about her reaction to learning Thea’s role in Sara’s death back in his face. With Malcolm, there was still the lingering risk that he was acting in self-interest, and Oliver could still remember Felicity’s chilling words when he’d asked her to look after his sister in his absence: And what is that worth?

He’d had a lot of time to think about his relationships in Nanda Parbat; it had been necessary in order to maintain a hold of his identity. And in all his recollecting, he was coming to a troubling conclusion. He wasn’t sure he and Felicity were in love the way he’d thought they were.

He cared for her, obviously. He was grateful for everything she had dedicated to the mission. There was fondness, respect, trust… or there had been.

He’d been out of it still in the catacombs when he thanked her. But with a clearer head, it had hit him that for no matter what reason, Felicity had drugged him without his consent. He’d been near-furious with John for doing the same thing only last year. And if Felicity’s plan had succeeded, there would have been far worse consequences.

That rash action aside, there was more he couldn’t help seeing once he’d been on his own. Felicity had fallen into a habit of speaking for him, or even over him, often. She took it upon herself to interpret his meaning for others when he never asked for such a thing to be done. And just picturing her reaction to learning his and Malcolm’s plan and how much she wouldn’t have been allowed to know to until the end… he was almost as nervous as Laurel was to return to the team’s new base.

Laurel’s reaction he could picture perfectly as well. There would be disappointment that he had relied on Malcolm rather than the rest of them, that he had lied. But there would be acceptance that it had been the one way forward to ensure the least amount of danger to the city. She would set aside her feelings to deal with the situation at hand, the way she almost always did. It was only when it came to things like her family that she could become over-emotional, a flaw Oliver could privately admit he shared.

He had been so hard on her. He had hoped it would keep her away from all this. Instead it had just kept her from him.

The new base turned out to be an unused room within Palmer Tech. Felicity was there to meet them, and her eyes widened as John and Laurel helped him hobble towards a medical table.

“Oliver! What- what happened? Was it the League?”

“Nope,” John answered for him. “He was trying to take Nyssa out for the League. Laurel stopped him a little too enthusiastically.”

“I was supposed to bring Nyssa to Nanda Parbat,” Oliver interrupted before too many fingers could start pointing back and forth. “It was not my intention to kill her.”

“And what do you imagine my father would have had you do once we arrived?” Nyssa asked coolly.

“Malcolm or I would have figured something out.” He hadn’t known precisely what that something would be, but he had known capturing Nyssa at the least would have been vital to convincing Ra’s he was on the man’s side.

“Malcolm? I don’t understand,” Felicity said. “You’re still working with him? They said you’d be brainwashed.”

“They tried. Didn’t take,” he answered shortly.

“But you wanted Ra’s to think it did,” Laurel realized quietly. She’d been wearing a frown from the moment he had mentioned Malcolm, but now her brow creased with apprehension. “What happens now?”

“I really don’t know. What happened on the roof?”

She shrugged helplessly. “It shouldn’t have been that strong.”

“What shouldn’t have been? Can we use our words, people?” Felicity asked.

“Laurel had Cisco at STAR labs modify Sara’s sonic bombs,” John explained as he finished retrieving some medical supplies. “But the tech didn’t work the way it was supposed to, and somehow she knocked Oliver clean off the roof. It’s how he got so banged up.”

Oliver carefully shed the upper layers of his League uniform with Digg’s help. He was glad the others were not facing the brand, at least for now. Felicity’s eyes drifted over his chest while Laurel’s own gaze remained solidly on his face. Nyssa was looking out a window, her lips pursed in quiet thought.

“This is… probably going to sound crazy,” Laurel said at last. “But I felt something.”

“Like what?” He asked, hoping it came off as encouraging. Laurel needed to open up if they were going to get to the bottom of this.

“It was like it came from in me, in a way.”

“What, like you’re the sonic bomb?” Felicity’s skepticism rang loud and clear in the room.

“The device broke before the sound came out,” John revealed. He gripped Oliver’s bad arm. “Ready?”

“Do it.” He bit down hard as the other man forced his shoulder back into socket. Pain rippled through him and he gasped for air.

Felicity darted forward as if to steady him at his other side, but Oliver leaned away. He knew he didn’t want to discuss his revelations about their relationship right now in front of the others, but he didn’t want to lead her to believe in something that just wasn’t there. She drew short of him, a hurt look in her eyes.

Oliver focused back on Laurel. “Has this ever happened before, or anything like it?”

Laurel shook her head, but it was Nyssa who said, “I believe there is more to it than producing sound. Laurel has developed an unusually keen sense of hearing.”

“You never said anything,” Laurel said with a frown.

“I only noticed it recently,” the former Heir to the Demon said. “And on its own it did not seem so remarkable.”

“How recent, Nyssa?” Oliver asked.

“Within the last month, certainly. I would say it was soon after you left to usurp me.”

He pointedly ignored the last of that sentence, keeping his gaze on Laurel while John fit a brace to his ankle. “Could anything have happened to you between them and now that might explain this? Anything at all.”

“I mean, I- I went to Central to try and help Barry and the others with something. They, um, were trying to move their prisoners,” she said, the last word twisting her lips with distaste in a way that was almost amusing. “I got there too late, though. But there was this guy they called the Reverse Flash, in a yellow suit like Barry’s—”

“The guy that killed Barry’s mom?” Felicity demanded. Oliver felt his heart stop.

“I wouldn’t know,” Laurel answered. “But he threw me in this box of some kind of reinforced glass, ran away and there was this big boom before I guess I passed out.” She hugged her arms to herself. “I came to and Barry and the others had gotten back.”

“But what happened?” John asked.

“That’s all I know.”

“Laurel,” Oliver started in frustration. She’d passed out and not told any of the others? What had Reverse Flash been trying to do to her? Why didn’t she care more?

“Well, they were all kind of busy with the man they found being held captive in their own basement,” she snapped. “Apparently I was the only person who heard him calling for help — which I guess was when that whole thing started. But I would’ve needed to get back here anyway because I needed to be looking out for the city.”

Oliver’s eyes slipped closed. The promise he had asked of her before he’d left. That was why she hadn’t bothered to remain at STAR and have them confirm anything.

“Felicity, call Barry,” he instructed. She blinked in surprise but got out her phone, shooting him an odd look as she did so.

“Alright, but you need to rest, man,” Digg said. “At least until he gets here.”

Oliver complied, if only because he knew Barry wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, the speedster was soon among them and listened attentively as they explained everything that had happened.

“It was the particle accelerator. Wells — or Thawne — Reverse Flash,” the younger hero decided on eventually. “He’d turned it on to use for something. We’re still not sure what the original purpose was, because even he shouldn’t have been able to guess Laurel would be showing up that exact evening.”

“Why would he want to use it to change her?”

“I’m not sure. He’s, he’s from the future,” Barry admitted to all of their shock. “And maybe that means he knows something about Laurel. Something that means she’s supposed to be a meta. But until we catch him, we can’t know for sure.”

“How do we do that?” Laurel demanded. He could tell she was shaken to hear that this man had made such a change to her without her consent. Oliver was beating himself up already for not being there. He should have kept a better eye on things at home; he should have protected her the way he always did; he should have—

It was with a sense of dawning wonder and fear that Oliver realized what this feeling was, the feeling that had never quite died in him no matter how hard he had tried to stamp it out: love.

He was in love with Dinah Laurel Lance, even when she had long gotten over him.

“Ollie?”

He started, working to school his features as the others all stared at him. He felt too shy suddenly to meet Laurel’s eyes, so he watched her shoulder and the lock of her hair that hung over the front of it. “Yeah?”

“We’re trying to figure out who to neutralize first,” John re-stated. “Ra’s or Reverse Flash.”

He swallowed. Right, the plan. He needed a new one, one that didn’t involve him resuming his place at Ra’s side. The longer they delayed, the more suspicious the Demon would become.

“Ra’s. We need to take the fight to Nanda Parbat now.”

“But you’re injured,” Felicity immediately protested.

“We can’t afford to wait. Ra’s will suspect he’s been betrayed and send out the best of his followers to kill all of us.” Everything he had tried to avoid by becoming Al-Sah-Him would come to pass.

His ankle wasn’t broken as he had feared. He could stand on it with the brace if need be. He would have to hope he could fight on it as well.

“A straight assault on Nanda Parbat is suicide,” Nyssa declared. “You would never be able to root each and every assassin out of the passages. They would surround you and slaughter before you had time to blink.”

“Not if it was Barry who was blinking,” Laurel pointed out. “Could you… I don’t know, run them all out of the fortress into the open?”

“Definitely. Not sure if I could stop them from going back in if I’m helping you to fight them, though.”

“Then we stop them from going back in,” said Oliver, a plan forming in his mind off the back of Laurel’s idea. “You can do that scream again.”

“I didn’t know I could do it the first time,” she protested, backing up even a step further. Oliver shifted his weight off the table onto his good leg to catch her hand before she could fully draw away.

“It’s your power, just like Barry’s speed. And I have a feeling it’s exactly what we need. You’re strong, Laurel. I’ve known that our whole lives. And no matter how or why you received this ability, you’re the one in control of it.”

Her gaze remained on their hands joined together. He rubbed a thumb over the fishnet material on the back of her glove, and slowly, she raised her head to meet his eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

There was a current between them, making his heart thump loudly in his ears and his mouth run dry. He wondered if he was the only one to notice it, or if Laurel could still somehow feel it too. Could he even be that lucky?

A throat cleared, and Oliver swallowed, glancing to the side to see the others watching and waiting. Felicity must have been the one to do it; she had a wet sheen to her eyes. He would have to speak with her soon. It was long past time to set things back to rights with his various affairs of the heart.

But ending the threat of the League in their lives came first.

---

Malcolm paced the small chamber he had been given in Nanda Parbat, far beneath the accommodations he had once held as Ra’s horseman. But soon, very soon, he would be occupying a much more opulent room within the fortress.

So long as Oliver didn’t screw everything up.

The man had yet to return with Nyssa or to report his progress. Ra’s was growing agitated, they all could tell and so all steered clear of their leader. It would certainly be an upset should Nyssa prove after all to be the better Heir, but Malcolm feared Ra’s discovering the truth: that Oliver was merely pretending to be the loyal disciple.

Had he quailed at killing the woman? The Oliver who had returned from the island two years ago would have been far better suited to this plan. He had developed a soft heart in his time back home. His friends were likely convincing him to try a new, futile strategy instead. It would end in ruin for all of them and Starling if they pursued it.

Malcolm began to pack his things. Once Ra’s discovered Oliver’s treachery, he would need to be far away from here. He would stop briefly in Starling to collect Thea and disappear. There were those who opposed Ra’s that they could ally themselves with and seek protection. At least for the moment.

But he had only the time to sling his pack over his shoulders before he was suddenly seized and felt himself carried impossibly fast. Malcolm closed his eyes and had his sword drawn when he was released from the strange sensation, blinking in the sudden light of day outside the fortress.

He took stock of his surroundings. All the League’s soldiers stood around in various stages of confusion. John Diggle had a gun aimed at Sarab, the current horseman. Nyssa stood proudly with her own bow and arrow drawn at him. Oliver favored his left leg but stood with head uncovered, his right arm braced on Laurel’s shoulder. At a nod from him, she stepped out from under him and marched to the front just as a streak of lightning rushed out of the fortress once more with a final member of this gathering: Ra’s himself.

“Al-Sah-Him, what is the meaning of this?” The Demon demanded once he had gained his feet. A man in red — the Flash from Central City, he realized — also appeared in solid form.

“Al-Sah-Him never existed. My name is Oliver Queen. And I’ve never been one for prophecies,” Oliver said. “Now, Canary!”

With a vicious smirk sent back Malcolm’s way, Laurel planted her feet and let forth a scream that shook the ground beneath their feet and the heavens above. The stone of Nanda Parbat’s entryway blasted apart under the force of the visible waves, and it’s pillars buckled before giving way.

Cries emanated from the members, some of horror and some of pain as they clutched at their ears. The Priestess clutched her robes and sobbed. And Malcolm could only watch in astonishment as his ambitions and plans crumbled to dust and rubble before his very eyes. Within minutes, Nanda Parbat was no more. His legs trembled, but he just barely stopped himself from sinking to his knees.

“No!” Ra’s scream of rage was marked with terror, and Malcolm knew why: the Lazarus Pit had just been buried and contaminated beyond any hopes of saving it. The Demon drew his sword and lunged — only for two arrows to embed themselves in his back.

The greatest warrior Malcolm had ever known fell just feet away from Laurel Lance. Both Oliver and Nyssa advanced on him as he raised himself to his knees.

“Your reign and your League is ended, Ra’s,” Oliver said. “You’ve lost sight of the mission you spoke to me of, descending into petty squabbles and schisms. You hoard your power and refuse to relinquish it. You’ve become what you swore to fight against.”

Ra’s eyes widened for a moment, before he sneered at his daughter. “And you, Nyssa? My own flesh and blood?”

“You forswore me the moment I discovered that love could rule my heart instead of fear. Your mistake was in thinking that it made me weaker.”

A puff of air left Ra’s lips as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. “You think yourself strong? You have destroyed your birthright. You will never be Ra’s al Ghul,” he rasped. Though he grew weaker, it seemed he was determined to die with a straight back. “And you…” his gaze fell on Oliver again, but the eyes glazed over and his body went limp before his final condemnation could be spoken.

Oliver turned to face the assembled assassins, frozen without orders to follow. “The League of Assassins is no more. You can either return to your old lives or make new ones for yourselves elsewhere. But if any of you even think about setting foot in my city, you’ll suffer the same consequences as your leader just has.” There was sweat beginning to bead on his brow, and Laurel returned to his side, subtly supporting his weight. Oliver smiled down at her briefly before they began a slow walk away from Ra’s fallen form, leaving Nyssa to see to what was left of her father.

Malcolm broke from his own stupor and hurried after them. “Oliver. What happened? This was not the plan.”

While Laurel did nothing to hide the contempt in her gaze, Oliver was more diplomatic. “The plan we had was riskier and would have taken longer. I realized I could end the League’s threat a different way, so I did.”

“And ended the League entirely?”

“Not exactly how you were hoping this would all go, was it?” Laurel asked, her tone entirely too smug. She had guessed his goal, then.

“How did you create that kind of force?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything, but I’d be more than happy to demonstrate how it works a second time.”

Malcolm shifted his weight back. He had no doubt if she used that new and strange ability again that it could kill him. No longer did he have the decided upper hand in their confrontations, and Oliver seemed to be far more inclined to favor her once again. How could he have missed such a dramatic shifting of the balance of power he’d been cultivating?

“You’re free to live your life without looking over your shoulder for the League, Malcolm. I’d say that makes us more than even,” Oliver said. “But use Thea for one of your schemes again, and it will not end well for you.”

So he wished to be enemies once more going forward, did he? “I see. Thank you for the cursory warning. I still think you’ve made a grave mistake today, Oliver, but it’s clear to me you aren’t interested in hearing it.” Malcolm stepped aside, allowing the two to rejoin John Diggle and the Flash as they left the mountains.

The Flash and now Laurel’s dangerous gift. Oliver had found himself powerful allies. Malcolm should have used the tension his presence on the team had caused between the former lovers to widen the schism while he’d had the chance. He should have remembered it did not take long for Oliver and Laurel to forgive each other their mistakes.

He returned to the grouping of League members who remained. Some had already departed; still others seemed to have taken the League’s ruination as their own and swallowed the poison capsule all members carried. Someone needed to take hold of the situation and fast before one of the most elite forces in the world was squandered completely.

While Nyssa ordered Sarab and the Priestess to help with the arrangements for Ra’s burial, Malcolm set to work doing what any good businessman would: networking.

He might not have the ring nor the seat nor the title of the Demon, but he would persevere.

---

Laurel felt an extra spring in her step that half of Oliver’s weight plus all his League uniform adornments couldn’t even dampen. She had ended the League that had taken Sara away from their family, both in life and death. She had denied Malcolm, the orchestrator of her sister’s demise, the prize he’d been so clearly seeking when he’d crafted the original plan Oliver had told them about. She had destroyed a centuries-old order with nothing but a scream.

It was a little scary, how much watching the stone fortress had exhilarated her. If someone else had these powers she’d had forced on her, what would they do with them? There had been no casualties from the destruction, but she would need to watch herself and hope her teammates had her back in the field.

Right now, she had Oliver’s, since it was difficult for him to navigate the rocky terrain with a bad ankle. Laurel couldn’t help wondering what was going through his head. He’d asked her to watch out for the city when he’d left to begin his deception of Ra’s, and ever since he’d come back, he had been… different towards her.

She didn’t want to think it or even dare to get her hopes up again. She wasn’t that much of a fool. He’d probably just missed everyone and was trying to express it in his unspoken way.

Though that didn’t explain the distance between him and Felicity when they returned to the plane where she waited for the news.

“Ra’s is dead, and the League is without a leader or a stronghold,” Oliver reported succinctly.

Felicity nodded and retook her seat, and it was John who joined her. Oliver directed them to keep moving further back to another row. She helped him lower himself down and then took the seat beside him. 

Barry hovered a bit between the rows before taking his own chair across the aisle from them, leaning forward to talk to Oliver. “I had Caitlin reach out to Ronnie and Professor Stein. They’re planning to meet us in Central to take care of Reverse Flash. Are you sure you’re good?”

“I can fire an arrow, Barry.”

“You could take a sniper position,” Laurel offered, seeing that Barry looked just as reluctant as she felt to put him directly in the path of that speedster while he was still recovering.

Oliver thought it over quietly for a few moments. “Depends on where the fight happens. If there’s a good position to take, I’ll be there.”

Barry relaxed back into his seat. Laurel nodded and did her best to settle in for the flight. They would need to be rested so that they were ready to move once they touched back down in Central.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept, given that the window shades were all pulled down, but gradually Laurel became aware that she tilted to the right and that her head had landed on something warm and solid. She jerked upright, wincing as Oliver’s face scrunched you and he awoke as well.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I… I just realized I was kind of in your space. Sorry,” she told him softly. Barry snores lightly across the aisle, and she couldn’t detect any movement from the row ahead.

“It’s okay.” Oliver licked his lips and shifted in his seat a little. “I’m glad.”

“For what?”

“For not ruining everything again. For you still being… okay with me. For relying on me.”

“Ollie, you’re my friend. We’re always going to be okay. I rely on you, and I hope you can rely on me because I care about you.”

“Even if…” He stopped himself, suddenly looking more vulnerable than she’d perhaps ever seen him.

“If what?”

A tone chimed, indicating passengers were meant to be buckling back in. She heard John moving in the seat ahead and the low murmur of his voice as he woke Felicity. Regretfully, Laurel turned to lean across the aisle and nudge Barry.

There wasn’t a chance for her to ask what Oliver had meant. They landed and were immediately driven to STAR labs where a number of people waited. Most of them she had met the last time she was here.

“I wish we had time to run some tests on your abilities,” Caitlin said. She had her phone out, checking for updates from the two men still making their way here.

An alarm at the computers was tripped before that happened. Felicity and Cisco bumped into each other as they both went to check.

“It’s him.”

Laurel drew in a breath and released it. It was time to confront the man who had done this to her, along with the crimes he had inflicted on so many here.

“Did Ray send you what he promised?” Oliver asked.

Cisco passed him a couple arrows in green. “You’re gonna have to make them count. I was also able to whip up a pair of these.” He held up a set of earbuds. “They cancel out sound above a certain decibel. Should avoid some possible friendly fire from the Super Boss Canary Cry.”

“Only one pair?” Laurel asked, chewing her lip. She knew it was a lot to expect more in such a short period, but she wasn’t keen on hurting any of her friends.

“Take them, Ollie,” Barry said. “I heal.”

Oliver hesitated a moment, eyeing Barry strangely, before reaching out for them as well.

Barry squared his shoulders and turned towards the door. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

She followed Barry out to the lot while Oliver and John took to the roof. The Reverse Flash waited with his cowl down, revealing a man with brown hair Laurel vaguely recognized from the news. The scientist that had set off the particle accelerator more than a year before he’d done it again to her.

“Well, looks like I provided you a friend,” the man called out to Barry, his grin sharp as he looked Laurel over.

“Why did you?” She asked. None of them had been able to figure that out.

“The same reason I gave everyone else their powers. I just missed you on the first try, and I couldn’t exactly waste the opportunity to correct it when you were good enough to walk right in,” he explained easily.

“Because it fit into your grand plan.” Barry added.

Reverse Flash shook his head. “You see me as the villain, but, Barry, if you were to look back, look back carefully at everything I've done, every wheel I have set in motion, you would realize I have only done what I had to do. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

A man with flames rising from his head and shooting from his hands and feet cleared a building to the right of the STAR Labs lot and descended. “Hope we weren’t late,” he said to Barry, his voice echoing slightly.

“You’re right on time.”

“Black Canary and Firestorm?” Reverse Flash remarked with raised eyebrows. Laurel wondered if he was ignoring Oliver and John for the moment or if they had managed to conceal themselves. She hoped for the latter.

Barry turned back to him, confidence in every line of his stance. “I don't care how fast you are. You can't fight all of us at the same time.” 

“Oh, I can't? Trust me. This... This is gonna be fun.” He lifted his hand and something yellow shot out of the ring on his finger. In a quick movement, he was wearing the suit she had first seen him in, eyes blazing with red. He and Barry shot forward, and the fight began.

The two speedsters circled each other so fast it was all one blur to her and Firestorm. They exchanged frustrated looks as they watched, waiting for some kind of opening. She could hit them both with her Cry, but that would take Barry out as well for the time it took him to heal. And they needed him.

“Move, Barry!” Firestorm urged. “We need a clear shot!”

Barry suddenly became clear when he was thrown against a wall. Reverse Flash tried to follow, but Firestorm put up a wall of flame between the two speedsters, and Laurel let loose her cry.

She managed to just clip his side as he dodged around the worst of it, grabbing Firestorm with a snarl and flinging him through the air.

Firestorm was sent careening out of sight. The streak of lightning that was Barry went racing after him, and Laurel readied her weapon as Reverse Flash turned to her with a leer.

An arrow sailed through the air and embedded in his leg before he’d taken one step. As he reached to pull it out, the blurring of his face and hands slowed.

“Nanites,” Oliver called down, his position having been revealed. “Courtesy of Ray Palmer. They're delivering a high frequency pulse that's disabling your speed. You're not gonna be running around for quite a while.”

Laurel didn’t wait a second longer. She went in with her nightstick, cracking her opponent across the face before delivering a combination of punches, only one of which the man blocked without his speed to aid him.

He had some training in throwing a punch, but at normal speed she was the better fighter. Laurel wasn’t sure if his healing had been disabled along with the speed, but she went in with hard blows just in case.

He landed on a knee and shook, faster and faster. The nanites were wearing off.

Laurel quickly backed up, readying her Cry, but he looked up with a grin and raced away towards the Labs. To her horror, the streak ran up the wall, making quickly for the roof.

John moved out in front of Oliver, firing down several rounds with his gun.

Laurel ran towards the building, but could only watch as the yellow blur dodged around the bullets and knocked into John, sending him crashing back onto the roof. Oliver’s bow and quiver fell down around her, raining arrows. The blur resolved, holding Oliver by his throat over the edge of the roof.

“The history books say you live to be 86 years old, Mr. Queen,” the speedster growled. “Well, I guess the history books are wrong.”

He let go. Oliver fell, and her heart dropped. She couldn’t watch this again, not so soon, there was nothing for him to grab onto and save himself—

“OLLIEEEEEEEE!”

The scream left her of its own accord, waves rippling upward. But where they met with Oliver’s falling form, something strange happened. He slowed, and then nearly stopped in his descent.

She was keeping him in the air. Laurel squeezed her eyes shut, maintaining the Cry for as long as she was able. Wind rushed past her and she could hear the crackle of two speedsters, but all that mattered was the man slowly lowering to the ground as her breath ran out.

“Laurel!” She heard it distantly over the sound of her scream. “Laurel, you can stop!”

She squinted her eyes open. Oliver was close; she could nearly reach him if she jumped. He was telling her it was okay; he would make it.

Laurel staggered back and gasped in a large breath of air to fill her lungs. She threw out her arms, and Oliver dropped the last few feet into them. They fell together, hitting the hard asphalt with two grunts.

Laurel sat up as soon as she was able, keeping one arm around his back as she checked the earplugs were still in place. “Did they work? I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. It was… I don’t know how to describe that. But I was safe.” One of his hands reached up, gloved thumb smoothing over where her cheek had scraped against the ground a little. “Thank you.”

She saw Firestorm’s feet come down in front of them, and Barry sped to her side. “We got him,” the speedster confirmed, which she was glad for despite having forgotten all about the fight. “And Digg should be good. Caitlin’s up there now checking to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion. You alright, Ollie?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said, his brow crinkling with confusion as he asked, “Since when do you call me Ollie?”

Barry blinked. “Oh. I don’t- didn’t, I mean. But Laurel calls you that sometimes, and I thought that meant you… liked it?”

Oliver smirked as a snort left his nose. Then he laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. She knows me.”

“Better than anyone,” she confirmed with relief. Everything was okay now. Both cities were safe, and if anything, she had just learned that her powers could do more than cause harm. They could protect. They could save.

There were issues back home, maybe. Her father, Oliver’s vigilante persona being effectively dead and, Laurel could admit as she looked into his eyes, the stubborn feelings she’d never quite given up no matter what she said. But they could handle them together this time. She could feel in her bones that this was where they had always been meant to be.

---

By order of Dr. Snow, Oliver was put on bed rest for the next week, and possibly two judging by how much clucking she had done with her tongue while examining his ankle and other varied injuries. He, Laurel, John and Felicity returned to Starling on a train the next morning after seeing Reverse Flash safely locked away in the pipeline. Laurel had looked more than a little uncomfortable doing so, as he knew she was still one to advocate for the law whenever possible, and he’d taken her hand briefly.

Now he was stuck on a couch in the loft, recounting everything that had happened to Thea, who had been away visiting Roy in his new home for most of it. He didn’t ask her about her trip. Whatever had happened between them was theirs to know.

“I still don’t get why he gave Laurel powers to help beat him,” his sister said, and Oliver frowned.

“Something tells me there’s still more to his plans than he let on. But it’s Barry’s decision on what to do about them.”

“So what happens here?”

“Well, I heal. Then… I don’t know. I want to keep helping the city, but Lance took away the only way I had. Laurel has her Cry now, and Ray’s helping, but—”

“You can’t sit at home while she’s out there,” Thea guessed with a knowing half-smile.

“Yeah.”

“Roy gave me something before he left, you know,” she said lightly. “A red jacket. A few modifications… I could join her out there. At least while you’re still healing up.”

Oliver looked up at her. “Thank you.”

Thea shrugged. “I should do something good with what Malcolm taught me, right? And for the record, I’m so glad he’s not hanging around anymore.”

Oliver nodded. It did feel easier to breathe in some ways, knowing he wasn’t indebted to or being used as leverage for one of the man’s schemes. He could do his mission his way once again, if he could figure out just how.

“There’s something I’m kinda hoping you can clear up, though,” Thea said, turning fully towards him.

He sat up a little straighter. “Oh?”

“Felicity said something about the two of you after you went to join the League that seemed to indicate you’re… together?”

He winced. “We’re… we’ve tried to be.”

“But you don’t want to be.”

His shoulders slumped. “What does that say about me?”

He was a horrible person, wasn’t he? Everything he had put Felicity through, all the disapproval he had rained on her choice of Ray Palmer all so she would end things with the billionaire, and now he felt it had been a mistake.

He had thought being in a relationship would be enough. But it wasn’t a relationship he wanted, really. It was a person. And that person was Dinah Laurel Lance. It always had been, but he kept thinking he could fool himself.

Felicity wanted to be with him. Laurel… Laurel cared about him, because that was the kind of person she was. But he knew better than to assume anything should come of it. If he could have just been better, made the right choices, acted the way she deserved. Maybe he did deserve to be alone.

There was a knock on the door of the loft. Thea got up and checked at the peephole. “It’s Felicity.”

His heart sank, but he said, “Let her in.”

Thea opened the door. “Hey, you here for Ollie?”

“Yes, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, I was just heading out to grab some lunch. See ya!” She called over her shoulder, grabbing her keys and leaving them the room. It was the right thing to do, but a childish part of him wanted to call her back here for help.

Felicity moved towards the couch, ending up standing next to the coffee table. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How’s your leg?”

“Doing better. How’s… work?”

“Good. A lot of stuff you wouldn’t really be interested in, but, you know. Good.”

They lapses into silence. He wished it was comfortable.

“Felicity—”

“I had something I wanted to say,” she spoke at the same time. His mouth snapped shut. “I prepared it and everything, so I don’t go off-book and say something embarrassing. You know me.”

“Yes.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Okay, here goes. What happened in Nanda Parbat is not something I regret, but I feel like it didn’t go where either of us was expecting. Or hoping, maybe.”

He stayed silent.

“I thought part of that was just, you know, you going to the League to be brainwashed and all that putting an expiration date on us. But that was really a lie, and it made me realize something. I keep trying to save men from suicide missions,” she stated bluntly. “But I can’t. That’s your decision. And I think you made it on that island, and you’re not changing your mind.”

“No,” he confirmed quietly.

She nodded and took a small step towards him. “Ra’s told me that night that I should go to you to say goodbye. And I guess, in a way, I did. Or I should have. I need to, is what I mean. I can’t keep… doing this.”

He looked down. “I understand.”

“Do you? Cause I think you take it for granted sometimes. You are not easy to be close to or to care about at the best of times. Much less to love. So I hope you can see what it means, that someone you have hurt so many times is still standing there, standing up for you against virtually the only family she has left, fighting your fight when you can’t.”

He blinked, shock flooding his system as he realized truly who she’d been speaking of. Oliver slowly looked up, wondering if he was having some sort of hallucination.

Felicity smiled sadly. “Helena may have been crazy, but even a cuckoo clock is right twice a day.”

He was speechless, though he felt he ought to be saying something.

“Just… try not to screw it up this time, okay? You can only flunk out so many times, which you should really already know.” Felicity backed up and turned towards the door.

“Are you leaving the team?” He managed to ask.

“I’m still thinking about it. I won’t leave you guys in the lurch, but it’s all been getting a little too personal for me lately. I think I need to take a step back for a while.”

“Whatever you need.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Oliver shook his head. “Thank you.”

She let herself out, leaving him to his thoughts. Felicity believed Laurel still loved him. She knew he still loved her, the same way Helena had known it. And Sara, and Slade… why was he so stubborn?

If Laurel could still find room for him in her heart, then he needed her to know.

Decision made, Oliver reached for the crutches he had been supplied with at the lab and left the loft. It was annoying and slow-going, and if he had a reliable income he would just signal a taxi, but he tried to use the time to marshal his thoughts and his words.

She was at work, most likely, so he steered his way towards City Hall. It was his luck as he cleared the steps that Captain Lance almost collided into him on his way out the door.

“Sorry bout— oh.”

“Afternoon, Captain.”

He glanced down. “Injured yourself, huh?”

“Twisted my ankle. Bad sidewalk,” he added.

“Right,” the man said dryly. He glanced around, and Oliver did likewise. They were the only two outside at the moment, and for a wild second he wondered if he should be worried for his safety. But then Lance spoke again. “You know, Laurel tells me that the League Sara was part of is no more. And that one of the vigilantes took care of the man that held my baby girl captive all these years.”

“Well, that’s… that’s good to know it will never happen to another family,” Oliver replied.

“Exactly my thoughts.” Lance walked past him but stopped on a step and looked back at him. “Do I wanna know why you’re here?”

“Probably not.”

Lance nodded, like he’d already surmised as much. Then he turned and made his way down towards his car.

Oliver squared his shoulders and pushed his way through the door. He knew where Laurel’s office was, so he didn’t bother stopping at the desk. Her door was slightly open and he knocked at the frame with the end of his crutch.

She looked up from a stack of papers, hair tucked behind her ears and pen dangling from two fingers. It dropped onto the pile as her eyes widened. “Hey! Come in.”

She got up and went around him to close the door.

“I thought you were staying at the loft until your ankle was better.”

“I’m keeping off it,” he assured her, taking the chair across from her desk. “And I wanted to talk to you about plans going forward.”

“Here?” When he nodded, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Okay, well, I assume you’ll want to keep, uh, working.”

“Yep. I also think I’ll try and find a day job.”

“Really? Why now?”

“Well, my savings won’t last forever, and I want to be able to provide for myself and my family in the future.”

She laid her elbows on the desk, leaning forward a little. “That’s good to keep in mind. I’m glad you feel like you can think about the future again.”

He felt something warm sweep through him. He’d never voiced his fears of dying this past year to Laurel specifically, and yet she had guessed it all the same.

“Me too. The thing about the future is… I never thought about it before the island. I was young, stupid and I thought everything could stay that way forever. Then thinking about the future became one of the ways I kept going after the shipwreck. Both then and now, I see the same things.”

“What do you see?” She asked it gently, not demanding it from him. He could answer vaguely, and she would be satisfied. But it was now or never.

“I see our city, restored to better than it was even when we were kids. I see my family, even if it’s changed from what it was.” He had lost his mother, yet he had a brother in John, close ties to Barry and, if he could find a way to keep in contact, Roy and a growing number of friends and allies in two cities. “And I see us.”

Laurel’s smile froze. “Us?”

“You and me,” he clarified. “That’s the definition.”

She turned her head slightly, eyes on the glass window through which she could see out into the rest of her office. He could see now it wasn’t anger or denial in her features. It was nerves.

He leaned forward and took her hands, making her jump slightly. “I don’t know when that future might happen. It might not at all. But when I let myself hope, it’s what I see. That’s the truth. And I just thought you had the right to know.”

He released her hands, swallowing down the lump that threatened to lodge itself behind his Adam’s apple and set his eyes watering. Oliver turned out, reaching clumsily for the crutches leaning against the desk.

Laurel made it around before he could even get them on either side of his body. Standing there, she looked strong the way she had facing down a raging speedster or bringing the seat of the League’s power crashing down on its foundations. “You think I’m letting you walk away again?”

She wasn’t waiting for his answer. Instead she leaned down, one hand going to the back of his head and the other gripping the front of his shirt as she crushed her lips to his. Oliver welcomed it; he wanted the feel of her pressed deep into his memory so he would never forget it again.

The crutches clattered to the floor, and there was no telling how many of Laurel’s coworkers could likely see them through the window. But he didn’t care. He was finally exactly where he’d wanted to be those long years on the island, and this time there was nothing that could stand between his and Laurel’s reunion. Their challenges and their triumphs, they would take together now as teammates and partners. Always and forever.

[royalnovels-blog]

AWE Chapter 152

Chapter 152: You’re Shameless! No, You’re Shameless! After throwing over the jade piece, Xu Xiaoshan turned to leave. He had already made up his mind that, after he got back to the sect, he would ask his father and mother for more capital with which to acquire paper talismans. In the future, that was how he would make a name for himself, not magical items. Using paper talismans would be far more awe-inspiring. Xu Xiaoshan was a natural-born silkpants. He didn’t really care what his sect thought about what he did; if he liked someone, he made friends with them. If he didn’t like them, he would beat them up. As far as Bai Xiaochun was concerned, he was reluctant to admit it, but he actually liked him. Of course, if he had overcome Bai Xiaochun in a fight, he wouldn’t have hesitated for even a moment to rob him of his earthstring capture crystal. However, since he couldn’t defeat him in combat, he decided that the next best thing was to try to con him. As soon as Bai Xiaochun grabbed the jade piece, a wonderful feeling swept through him. His exhaustion vanished, and he could see everything clearly. It was almost like he had been trapped underwater, unable to breathe, and had just burst out into the open air. However, it seemed odd that Xu Xiaoshan would simply give him the jade piece so casually. After a moment of thought, he realized that he might have been cheated in some way. Before Xu Xiaoshan could get very far away, Bai Xiaochun called out, “Hold on. I don’t like taking advantage of people. Let me give you these two little treasures in exchange.” Slapping his bag of holding, he produced two flying swords that both had twofold spirit enhancements. Secretly spreading some of the aura of the final strange pill onto them, he tossed them over. “They’re not worth much, but hey, have fun with them.” The twofold spirit enhanced swords flew over to Xu Xiaoshan, whose eyes went wide as soon as he grabbed them. “Twofold spirit enhancements?” he thought, swallowing hard. “And he hands them over just like that? Have fun with them?!” Although he didn’t view twofold spirit enhanced magical items as something completely priceless, they were still relatively rare among Qi Condensation cultivators. The most telling thing was how casually Bai Xiaochun had tossed them over to him, which made it very obvious how deep his pockets were. Suddenly Xu Xiaoshan realized he had even more to learn from Bai Xiaochun than he had initially realized. To casually hand out spirit enhanced magical items was a truly impressive way to make a name for oneself. Having reached this point in his train of thought, he looked more closely at Bai Xiaochun, and realized that he liked him even more. He sighed. “Alright, look, Bai Xiaochun. Considering how nice you’ve been, I feel bad for trying to con you. If you use that jade pendant by itself, it’s pretty much useless. After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, it will simply stop working, and even have a backlash effect.” With another sigh, he tossed a second jade pendant to Bai Xiaochun. “Use them together and you’ll have a long term solution to that banesoul’s curse.” Catching the second jade pendant, Bai Xiaochun narrowed his eyes at how devious and cunning Xu Xiaoshan was. As he watched him turn to leave, Bai Xiaochun suddenly thought to himself that despite everything that had just occurred, Xu Xiaoshan didn’t really seem to be a bad person. Gritting his teeth, he called out, “Hey, hold on. Alright, listen, Xu Xiaoshan. Since you’ve been so nice, I feel bad for conning you. Give me back those two flying swords.” Xu Xiaoshan stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. Pulling out the two flying swords, he examined them carefully, but couldn’t find anything about them that seemed out of the ordinary. However, not daring to hold on to them for any longer, he threw them back to Bai Xiaochun. Bai Xiaochun cleared his throat and then produced another set of two swords, which he threw back to Xu Xiaoshan. Xu Xiaoshan had an odd expression on his face as he looked over at Bai Xiaochun. He wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with the first set of swords, but he could well imagine that, if Bai Xiaochun hadn’t said anything, he might have ended up walking into a disaster. Bai Xiaochun blinked a few times as he and Xu Xiaoshan looked at each other. After another long moment passed, Xu Xiaoshan sighed, eyes shining brightly. Earlier, he had only been pretending to like Bai Xiaochun, but by this point, he really did like him. “It’s not very often that I get along with someone as well as I do with you. Alright, listen, Bai Xiaochun. There’s actually a mnemonic that goes along with those two jade pendants, which is the only way to use them properly. Without the mnemonic, they’ll create a field of light that will protect you from that banesoul, but after a while, the light will fade away and leave a sealing mark on your cultivation base that will prevent you from using it for a whole month.” With a wry smile, Xu Xiaoshan tossed a jade slip over to Bai Xiaochun. “You scoundrel!!” Bai Xiaochun said with a gasp. If he had used the jade pendants in the middle of trying to reach Foundation Establishment, only to have his cultivation base sealed, he would have lost an entire month of time. He might even have lost his chance at Foundation Establishment. “You’re just as bad!” Xu Xiaoshan replied. Then he coughed dryly. “Well, I’m from the Blood Stream Sect and you’re from the Spirit Stream Sect. We’re supposed to be against each other.” By this point, he was being completely honest, which was a rare thing for him. The truth was that he had never encountered anyone like Bai Xiaochun before. “Alright,” Bai Xiaochun said. “Since you’re being so honest, then I’ll stop conning you. You know those magical items you used against me in the fight? I stained them all with a medicinal aroma that will attract banesouls.” Feeling a bit awkward, he lowered his voice and concluded, “You should probably change your clothes too.” Xu Xiaoshan’s eyes went wide; after quickly checking his bag of holding and his clothing, he looked back at Bai Xiaochun with gritted teeth. “Y-y-you!! You’re completely shameless!” “You’re just as bad!” Bai Xiaochun said, glaring back at him. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, then both of them burst out laughing. “I hope we meet again soon,” Xu Xiaoshan said with sincerity. Then he turned and sped off into the distance. Once he was out of sight, he changed clothes, his heart thumping with lingering fear. As far as he was concerned, Bai Xiaochun was as much of a scoundrel as himself, which meant that he had to be very careful dealing with him in the future. Bai Xiaochun was also sighing. Although Xu Xiaoshan was from the Blood Stream Sect, he still seemed like a good person to be friends with. “Except, he’s profoundly crafty, definitely not as honest as me. I really have to be careful dealing with him in the future. Ai. I guess I’m just too honest.” Shaking his head, he swished his sleeve and sped off. After inspecting the jade pendants thoroughly, he used the mnemonic from the jade slip to unleash their power. Moments later, a shimmering field of light appeared around him. The field of light soon became invisible, and could only be detected via divine sense. However, as far as banesouls were concerned, it made it completely impossible to approach Bai Xiaochun. Over the course of the following six hours, the girl in the white dress appeared several times. However, every time she got close, she was repelled. Her face distorted with rage, and she screamed shrilly, but it was still impossible to get close to Bai Xiaochun. After so many failures, she begrudgingly faded away and didn’t return. At that point, Bai Xiaochun breathed a sigh of relief. Convinced that the jade pendants had actually worked, he sank to the bottom of a remote lake and dug out a temporary immortal’s cave. There, he sat down cross-legged to meditate. After performing one final test to make sure that the jade pendants would drive away the banesouls, his eyes flickered with anticipation, and he pulled out the gray earthstring capture crystal. “Although I’m starting a few days later than I’d planned, I can still be the first person to reach Earthstring Foundation Establishment!” With that, he unleashed the spiritual power of the great circle of the tenth level of Qi Condensation, circulated it once, and then sent it surging into the gray crystal. The crystal was like a bottomless pit that sucked in all of his spiritual power. Then, it began to emit a gray glow which grew more intense by the moment, and soon caused powerful rumbling sounds to emanate out. The crystal began to slowly burn, transforming into a gray mist that Bai Xiaochun absorbed through his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. After more than thirty breaths of time, the crystal shook slightly and then vanished, causing massive amounts of gray mist to surge into Bai Xiaochun’s body. His eyes were beginning to grow bloodshot as the gray mist poured into him, permeating his qi vessels, swirling throughout his entire body. At the same time, pain ripped through him; the gray mist almost seemed to be taking shape, like iron chains that scraped against his flesh and blood. The pain caused him to shudder, but compared to the pain he had endured when cultivating the Undying Live Forever Technique, it wasn’t worth mentioning. Bai Xiaochun didn’t so much as let out a cold snort. Gritting his teeth, he waited until the final bit of mist bored into him. When the tail end of the mist connected with the mist which had first entered him, it created something like a circle. The moment that circle formed, rumbling sounds filled Bai Xiaochun’s mind, shaking him down to his soul. The spiritual river that was his cultivation base began to churn, blasting through all parts of his body, seemingly chaotic and without shape. However, closer examination revealed that the spiritual power was actually transforming into a whirlpool. That whirlpool was was none other than the beginning of a Tideflow! This was the most critical aspect of Earthstring Foundation Establishment! Spiritual power flowed, transforming into a Tideflow. The mist became liquid, the Earthstring Dao Foundation was formed, and mortality was severed away! Bai Xiaochun suddenly looked up, blue veins bulging out on his neck and face. Trembling, he hoarsely shouted, “Tideflow!” RUUUUUUUUUUMBLE! Instantly, the whirlpool began to rotate with more intensity, transforming into something like a black hole that sucked away all of the earthstring energy inside of him. Of course, that little bit wasn’t even one one-thousandth of what was required. However, as long as that whirlpool was formed, it would automatically absorb the earthstring energy which had built up over the past sixty-year-cycle in the Fallen Sword World! Instantly, streams of earthstring energy began to emerge from the walls of the immortal’s cave and rush toward Bai Xiaochun. Soon, the lake above him was bubbling and boiling as massive amounts of earthstring energy began to surge into motion. The sky of the Fallen Sword World trembled as earthstring energy flowed toward Bai Xiaochun from all directions. The disciples of the four sects who were in various locations in the Fallen Sword World all looked up. Some were confused, others shocked, other shaken. All sorts of mixed emotions could be seen, even disbelief. “A Tideflow! Heavens! That’s an Earthstring Foundation Establishment Tideflow!!” “Who is it? It’s barely been a month, and someone’s already formed an earthstring capture crystal and begun Foundation Establishment?!” “Is it Song Que? Ghostfang? Nine-Isles? Or is it Fang Lin!?!?” Previous           Main menu            Next Click to Post

[dwestfieldblog]

DARK MEDITATIONS ON MAY 35TH

(4th June)

David Westfield presents The Disconnection. A monthly seminar:-)

World news and basic facts, tapped from the universal mind, but first a message from the Akashic Record....Down to the burning wire once again, veering from one extreme to the other does not count as balance. The captain of your relationship with Non Self. Voices in choral sequence pulling you out of body. Unable to process information while focusing on it. Distance is depth. Does this path have a heart? Distract the mind elsewhere, throw a question backwards and think of something other. The answer appears, looking for a sign...it says No Road Ahead. Dead End... and another pathway opens as soon as you accept this.  Dream until you awaken, dream until it is real, the circle opens out...  

At that point you realise that that which you are truly summoning is another aspect of your own energy. You truly leave spirit prints in other realms. Thought, projected with an aim or not, is stored and takes on it's own life. Formless contact and contacted form, acknowledge all your sides. Trust me, I'm an idiot. Having fun spotting the fnords...Did you make it through those two paragraphs?  

Due to finances seemingly out of my control (useless magician) I have put an almost temporary halt to the new double cd. And many other things. We shall see whether abstinence makes for a better clarity of visualisations... although the deep set hunger for a nightly obliteration might well interrupt that. My claws and teeth have returned. Want to do everything I know I shouldn't. All of it, love making a collage out my pleasures. The Ego demands temporary satisfactions to deny the Soul. Luxury...  

Let's try drinking water, breathing deep and slow and allow the sunset rays to enter instead. Or not. It might be too late.

304 songs recorded in Prague and I would exchange all of them, the time and energy of their joy for a child of my own, in a heartbeat. In an amphetamine second. Laugh like a giggling child or a Buddhist monk. (stong pa nyid du gyur.... Everything becomes Emptiness).

Got the date of the Million Marijuana March wrong last month, just goes to show how the eagle talons of my memory have been blunted by various means. The past always catches up because there is only Now. Etc. Hmm, on to the Net for a spell...

Dark Meditations on social media, throw them into the satire...throw them to the Wolf.

Foul traitors to the human spirit. Who took the jam out of your doughnut? There you stood on the edge of your feather, expecting to butterfly but regressed to caterpillar. But why get hung up on negativity? Unless you enjoy auto erotic asphyxiation. Normality follows...in a Bitch's Brew. Hunger.

'Why be bleak when you can be Blake?' Jonhn Balance.  

'The self reflecting image of a narcotised mind'. Gira.

Variations on the politics of dominance... 'Antennae tuned to inhuman vibrations'.  Duck Fart calling Cheese Boy out....you guys kill me, how small do your penises have to be for this braggadocio? How about a naked sumo fight to the death in a large tub of butter instead? Just a charming vision.... Glad Le Pen lost, happy that France after all the attacks still has not swung too far Right, shame for all of Putin's cash seeded into her campaign...you're not going to get that investment back baldy. But all your other shit stirring is going so well, you must be proud. Meanwhile here in the Czech Republic, the three main leaders become increasingly foul and ridiculous, a president whose every utterance is despicable and a businessman politician telling the Big Lies as he rises and rises into the rotten stink of filth.  

If you don't stir the cream, it turns into scum.

I first came to Prague several years after the Velvet Revolution and of course I am still an alien outsider, but it is clear after 22 years just how well the leaders have studied and learned from the West. Pulled between populism, and Putin, they choose enrichments and power above actually serving. Say it again for the 93rd time; Only a revolution of the Spirit will win. Silent and beautiful, private and secret, one soul at a time. Remember the Laws of Phase Transition. Or as they say here; 'Truth and love will overcome'. Hold on to let go...

Still irritates me that way too many of the young in rebellion against the usual 'adult' right wing thinking, go for Socialism and left wing rubbish. All those in organisations on demonstrations, funded by those who have NO interest in 'power to the people', but do care about power FROM the people. Bastards swindling suckers. Even the majority of those who disbelieve in mainstream religion end up in various sects/cults who exist solely/SOULy to vampire money and energy from the desperate vacuum created by a lack of personal self discovery and internal private faith.

Speaking of which....

The Campaign for the hearts and minds of the European folk dream...in Britain...

I remain (arf) patriotic of the energy, the magic in England but it has been buried, smothered, dormant. Again, as an outsider, it is more apparent each time I return to the island, the changes are more visible. As unbalanced as I am, it causes an ocean of sadness, then a blind rage of hatred. Then, peace...just biorhythms, moon waves and electromagnetic impulses on chemicals eh? Or something. All will evolve... But...

humans eh? What can you do? We are all in the ark together, for a while.

Street corners all over Prague with servants of The Watchtower...mobile billboards with pictures and stories of 'The Riders of the Apocalypse'. (Isn't it against the law the to disturb the peace?) Sorry smiling ones, but I just won't swallow the coming of the Lord. I love the bible, you couldn't make it up, couldn't make it more ridiculous but they are having dammed good attempt. Standing around trying to scare people - as if we don't have enough shit to worry about. Trying to convince that the end is coming (and looking forward to it because they will be SAVED) and that it will be horrible. Possibly, most of us know this already, which is why we spend so much time on various destructive hobbies to make us feel immortal.  

On better days I would stop and 'engage' Jehovah's Voyeurs in debate, the Mormons, the Scientologists et al... free entertainment...wonderful conversations. I have been in mental asylums where the reasoning makes far more sense. Once again, 'Only the madman is absolutely sure'. I have doubts about Everything (except music) so that means I am sane and pure eh? And you, spending your valuable time speed reading this, how about you? Feeling good?

Tattooed above the gates of Hell:

'Abandon all Hope, all ye who Enter Her'

Last words from Aleister Crowley; 'I am perplexed'. Wonder if he was surprised by all the unconditional Love which appeared just before the 'end'? Getting old is not for carrots, or was that cowards? Memories get distorted when this ancient in Paradise. Arf. So many charming negative possibilities, you need the detachment and wisdom of a sage to overcome and accept 'It is what it is'. And in doing so, 'it' changes'. 'Perception, use it or lose it. As Mr R. Bach's Messiah's Handbook said. It also said; 'Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours'.  

Hmmm...Wonder where all those who emptied their bank accounts, sold their houses and sat on a mountain waiting for The End in December 1999 are these days? Wishing it had been or much wiser now? Would loved there to have been a live camera on them as the clock clicked to a minute past midnight on the first day of '2000', close ups of each face, zooming into their eyes.

'There's some people on Earth, they live in separate minds'.....'The past and future were simultaneous'. Gira.

'It is difficult, if not impossible to insult a beautiful woman. She remains beautiful and the insult recoils.' It is also impossible to insult a self acknowledged loser. They know and the words mean nothing. The insult only shows that the one who considers themselves above such lowly matters will inevitably be in the same sinking boat sooner

or later. This gives a dark satisfaction.

This year, 'M', a virtual assistant similar to Siri on Apple and Alexa on Amazon has been launched on Facebook in the US. Cannot be disabled, only muted or ignored...it can listen to every conversation on the site and make suggestions about payments, travel etc. Zuckerberg looking more stressed by the month because he is working for the bad guys... possibly why he seeks to do so much for charity in order to appease his conscience. Or not. But the chances of Facebook resisting the CIA's mass surveillance scheme is beyond unlikely. Oh yes, and Facebook's own figures show that there are more 18 year old males using it than are actually alive on this planet. Great research guys, well done. Gullible.  

Wonder if Snowden (follow him on Twitter boys and girls) has been questioned in Russia about his work. Guess. He did the right thing for sure, the problem with democracies pretending to be the good guys is that when they cross over in the name of security on an hourly basis, they really cross over. At some point they only become the devil you think you know. However, given the choice between being ruled by China, Russia or the poison caliphate of daesh, I will still take Europe or even America. I'd much rather have Buddha on the astral, beaming humour and wisdom, or the All Seeing Eye but them is the breaks we get. Every state is a bastard. Some are actually worse than others...

The United Altered States of Earth. That would work. Eh?

Which brings me to May 35th, (as those who used to write about it on social media in China called it, to avoid being arrested) also known as June 4th, the date of the Tienanmen massacres, another disgraceful stain on the group soul of humanity, perpetuated in the name of control. May the memories never be erased from the collective mind. The beginning of the chaos in Syria reminded me of Peking... students and shopkeepers asking for a little more correct behaviour and freedom from their loving leaders, mown down by tanks. Not terrorists, not aggressive agitators, but normal, regular people. SHAME.  

Good to see the former chief of the FBI (sacked by Duck Fart for speaking truth to power) confirming the Russian influence on the recent election in America. Not as if the US has never done this in other countries though eh? Daffy Donald the 'straight talker' is probably overjoyed at having the NSA at his disposal. Straight talker? This man cannot even form coherent sentences...too much time tweeting can do that. Remember Tony Blair describing himself as 'a pretty straight sort of a guy'?? ARF. Reminds me of Hunter S Thompson epithet about President Nixon; 'This guy was so crooked he had to screw his pants on every morning'.  

Duck Fart called the ex boss 'crazy...a real nut job'. Seems reasonable enough eh? A prerequisite for the top job of such a serious agency. A day later, two of those

mentioned in the FBI's case of the Kremlin's pupeteering met POTUS in the White House... without journalists or tapes etc. Not suspicious at all. Impeach him now. And as for Duck Fart's statement that the suicide bomber in Manchester, England was a 'evil loser'....Is this really an adult male speaking?   Almost wept to see a photo of him in Bethlehem, Israel... (getting tips for his Mexican wall no doubt) his motorcade passing a poster with the words 'The City of Peace Welcomes the Man of Peace'. As Dylan said, quoting from another source '...sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.'.... This is NOT the guy to calm things down, build bridges and make all the children sing with joy. And that's enough of the news/ the olds.  

Admired this month have been PJ Harvey (one of the finest females ever to come from Britain, a beautiful talent and passion) Quentin Tarantino, the absolute genius of Wayne Shorter, truly touched by God. Zappa again, Coil forever, Jaz Coleman's first symphony, the Kammerflimmer Kolektief, Savages and Crass, last of the true punks who lived what they shouted about.

'There is no authority but yourself'.

So...did 'God' lie when it said if you eat the apple, you will surely die'? According to the infallible Bible, Adam and Eve ate and died not. So 'Satan' told the truth? You are already making up your own mind. Happy re-programming. Don't forget kids, the Illuminati are on our side:-) Good luck with the discipline of ritual and projection/ internalisation. See you in the interdimesions....Enjoy the summer of Love...the war for peace is an ancient one.  

If I had half a brain, I'd be dangerous eh?  

Stay well.