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apocalypseornaw · 3 years

Text

Always be Yours- 2

Word Count 5,437 *not my gif*

Story Summary: Inspired by the 2 part I did of the same title. Follows Dean and Reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: Adaddon is back and using two hunters to draw the boys into a trap so of course you're right there with them

Warnings: cursing, fights, minor character death

Dean could hear your laughter drifting down the hall the moment he stepped out of his room. You'd only been at the bunker a week or so but you'd always had a habit of making any place feel your presence. Hell even Crowley asked if he could see you when he found out you were there. Kevin was acting more normal than he'd ever seen the kid and it was a bit of a relief to know he wasn't the only one keeping a close eye on Sam should Ezekial decide to not hold up his end of the bargain.

He headed towards the kitchen and could hear music. The closer he got he made out the tune of "You give love a bad name" when he stepped around the corner he was met with the sight of Sam spinning you around while you sang along word for word. Kevin was sitting at the table working on a large stack of pancakes and laughing at the show of you and Sam dancing around the kitchen in your pajamas. The two of you had formed a close friendship back when you were both the youngest kids being pawned off on Bobby during hunts and Dean would be lying if he said he didn't wish you were as comfortable around him as you were Sam.

He could still remember the first case him and Sam worked solo with you. It was the Croatoan virus. You hadn't blinked an eye when you refused to leave Sam's side when he was exposed telling them both that if they were giving in so were you. Over the years you'd been in and out of their lives and the day he'd been dragged out of hell you showed up at Bobby's and had a blade to his neck before him or Bobby could explain. When they proved it was really him that was the first time you'd ever hugged him. You'd pratically squealed when you jumped into his arms "Dean! You're back!"

You always had a habit that no matter how long you went without seeing him or Sam you always treated them as if you'd just seen them the day before. When Sam was soulless you helped him to track down Death to get Sam's soul back. He'd never seen you back down from a fight especially if someone you cared about was fighting.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when you slid to a stop in front of him and held a hand out to him. "C'mon Dean" you pleaded and he shook his head "I haven't even had my coffee yet Y/N" you being the ever persistent woman you were rolled your eyes then looked over your shoulder at Sam "Be a good little brother and fix the man some coffee" Sam grinned as he moved to grab Dean's mug and you turned back around to Dean with a smile "So now what's your excuse?" the song switched to "Have you ever seen the rain" and your eyes lit up when he hummed the first couple bars before hesitantly taking your hand.

You slid your arms up around his neck and he put his hands at your waist careful not to catch the bare skin when your shirt rode up slightly. Normally he'd feel stupid as hell dancing in the kitchen? Especially with an audience but the smile on your face was worth it, most of the time you tried to keep up the front of a fearless hunter but since Bobby's death you'd started to let your guard fall more often and around more people than just Sam. When the song ended you winked at him and said "Who knew Dean Winchester can dance?" then moved to turn the player down. Sam cleared his throat and looked from you to Dean before holding the coffee out "Want your coffee Dean?" when you turned your back Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean shot him a glare "Thanks Sammy" you thankfully didn't see the look passed between them when you turned around to ask Kevin if he wanted orange juice.

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The ease of the morning was interrupted by a phone call coming in about a busload of bodies found on a naval base. That mixed with the freaky storms and dead cattle circling that area screamed demon. You grabbed your duffel bag and the bag with your fed suit then stepped out of your room and met up with Kevin in the hallway. He glanced down towards the armory so you shot him a smile "Just stay away from him Kev. He'll try to get into your head and it's not worth it" he gave you a small smile in return "I'll stay away from him Y/N" he turned to head to the library so you headed for the map room where Sam and Dean stood waiting. Dean's eyes skimmed over you and your crossed your arms "Is there a problem Dean?" he met your eyes and smirked slightly "Naw, just you're gonna be a lot more fun to look at all day than Sammy here" you rolled your eyes and chunked your duffel bag to him considering they both already kept go bags in baby's trunk "Easy tiger, we got work to do"

You walked next to Sam up the stairs talking about the case and what could possibly be waiting.

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When Dean rolled to a stop right outside the area that had been tapped off you slid your ID into your pocket then climbed out the backseat. You had stopped off about ten miles back for all of you to change into your suits. "This place reeks of sulphur" Sam muttered and you nodded "Between the stink and the storms.." "Mixed with the dead cattle I'll take demons for a thousand Alex" Dean finished holding the police tape up for you to walk underneath.

The MP noticed the three of you and headed your way so you pulled your badges out while Dean did the introduction "Agents Stark, Banner and Barnes. FBI. Just need to have a look around" She didn't hesitate to ask "Why? This is a military case, not a federal one" "Well that's not what our supervisor said" you interjected and if anything you speaking seemed to make her attitude that much worse "That so? Then maybe him and I ought to have a chat" Sam cut his eyes at you and Dean said "Ok" then pulled his phone out. You wondered what he was doing and leaned up slightly to see him hit Kevin's number.

"Hey boss, we got a little problem" poor Kevin you just hoped he knew to play along. After a beat Dean continued "Yeah just a local badge needs a little confirmation we're supposed to be here. How the word came down from FBI headquarters in D.C." you were glad you were used to situations like this because if not you probably would've laughed imagining how confused Kevin must be but nonetheless Dean said "Yeah" then held the phone out to the MP.

She looked between the three of you before saying "This is sergeant Miranda Bates. Who am I talking to?" She looked back at Dean who you knew by far wouldn't break before asking Kevin "How old are you?" you were started to get annoyed with her attitude when she said "Listen kid, I don't have to do anything and I don't take orders from the feebs so unless you can give me one good reason you got a couple of pretty boy agents and their handler poking around my crime scene" "Handler?" you scoffed and Sam reached a hand out to pull you back next to him as she kept ranting "I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw"

Her face fell at something Kevin said "What?..How did you find that?" You looked between the boys to see if they had any idea what Kevin was telling her but they both shrugged. She finally said "Yes sir" then handed Dean's phone back and walked away.

Dean was barely holding back a smile when he said "Kevin, what the hell did you just do?" Sam motioned to the bus so Dean waved the two of you ahead.

You stepped on the bus behind Sam and went to the first body while Sam started looking over a different one. "Sam look" you pushed back the guy's shirt with a pen to show the bullet hole in his chest. All the bodies had fatal wounds but they were all also long dead.

Dean then stepped up on the bus and asked "Got anything?" Sam nodded to the body nearest you "This guy was shot in the heart" "That what killed him?" he asked and Sam looked at you so you shrugged "Maybe? but like ten or twenty years ago" Dean glanced at Sam who added "All these bodies have fatal wounds but they're all old" "So meatsuits?" Dean guessed so you nodded "Bodies took a licking but demons kept them ticking"

"And now they're riding the soldiers" Sam added. Dean looked behind Sam "Hey" you looked up to see sergeant Bates walking up onto the bus with a tablet in her hands "Excuse me agents. We pulled this off the security camera. You might want to take a look" Sam reached out for it so you moved to the side so Dean could see the screen as well. It clearly showed the soldiers walking away but Sam froze on one woman in particular. You knew they couldn't tell you why in front of Bates but the moment the three of you stepped off the bus Dean said "Abaddon? Seriously?" and you knew why Sam had frozen the screen. That was the demon that had attacked the men of letters and who killed their grandfather Henry after him and her jumped through a magical portal to recent time.

"I thought you kentucky fried that meatsuit?" Dean asked Sam who shrugged "I did Dean" "Then how did she get it back?" you asked and nodded to the cop that held the tape up for you to pass. "And why's she playing G.I. Joe?" Dean said and Sam responded "No clue. Why don't you ask her when we find her?"

You slid into the backseat and pulled your suit jacket off while Dean pulled out onto the road and said "Oh I will and then I'm gonna chop her freaking head off..again"

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After stopping off long enough for all of you to change back into normal clothes you got back on the road to the bunker. It was already dark out and you were laid across the backseat when Sam's phone rang and you heard him say "Hold on Kevin..Wait..slow down" Sam cut his eyes back when you sat up then put the phone on speaker while Kevin repeated the coordinates he'd been given then said "And she gave me two names. Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell" "Irv's a friend, don't know Tracy" Dean cut in before Kevin continued "All right, the lady said they were hunters and that if you didn't go save them that she would kill them" "Yeah heard that song before" Dean grumbled but you were looking up the coordinates to see where you were all headed.

"Dean, who was she?" Kevin asked so you answered without looking up "The bad guy" Dean asked Kevin to dig up everything the men of letters had on the knights of hell. Abaddon was one although you didn't know exactly what that entailed. After Sam hung up with Kevin you leaned up between him and Dean "The numbers point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon" then glanced between the two of them "Are we gonna adknowledge this is a trap right?"

"Yup" Dean said matter of factly. You turned your head to look at Sam when he asked "And we're just gonna walk right into it?" "Guns blazing" you answered and saw Dean glance your way in the mirror. "Well Y/N's with me, Sam?" Sam of course said "You know it"

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You drove through the night and stopped a few miles shy of where Abaddon wanted to meet so all of you could be as well prepared as possible. The place was completely abandoned. Dean gave voice to your thoughts when he asked "What the hell happened here?" "A local chemical plant sprang a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks. Guess it's still contaminated"

"Wait? So this whole place is poison?" you asked, a little worried. "Yeah" Sam replied and you laughed when you saw Dean's hand move to cover his crotch "That's not gonna help" Sam told him with a sigh. Dean realized you'd seen him and shrugged "It doesn't hurt"

One thing you'd gotten used to was that when you hunted with them both they had a habit of keeping you between them when they could. You weren't sure if it was on purpose or not. The three of you walked further into the town then heard a slam coming from an old diner that caused you and Sam to pull your guns. Dean nodded so you covered Sam while he kicked the door in.

"Clear" you and Dean went in behind him so you kept an eye on the kitchen to make sure there was no surprises while Dean untied Irv and who had to be Tracy. You glanced back when he said Abaddon had been torturing hunters to get information on Sam and Dean. If you hadn't been with them she might have gotten her claws on you.

Dean gave Irv a shot of holy water while Sam gave one to Tracy who rolled her eyes "Happy?" she was slinging more aggression towards Sam than you would've liked but now wasn't the time. Irv nodded to you when Dean untied him "Y/N, good to see ya" "Yeah" you said then once again Tracy got mouthy with Sam when he introduced himself. You knew the look you had when Irv quickly explained "She's new. We worked a shifter job in Sacramento together. Smart but got a mouth on her" She scoffed so you clicked your tongue "Honey we ain't got time for whatever you got going on. We need to gear up and clear out" Dean tilted his head towards you "What she said"

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You were helping Dean lay out every weapon you'd grabbed. "We got jesus juice, devil's trap bullets shoot a demon with them and put em on lockdown" He explained and you spun an angel blade in your hand "Angel blades work"

Irv took a gun loaded with Devil's trap bullets about the time Sam said "They're coming" "Good" Dean said handing you a vial of holy water. "They've got assault rifles" Sam added and you cursed under your breath "Ok, less good"

Irv looked at Dean "So, what's the play?" Dean looked at you "Give me your phone" you handed it over without question and watched him record a voice memo of himself saying "COME AND GET IT YOU DICKS" and knew his plan. You grabbed one of the cake trays and drug it over in front of him "Prop it up here" he did as you said then looked between everyone else. "Let's go"

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All of you made it out behind the cafe so Dean looked around "We got to flank seal team douche in there so uh Irv, you and me will go left. Sam, you Y/N and Tracy go right" "Ok let's move" Sam said and reached for Tracy's arm but she shoved him back "Don't touch me" "What is your problem?" you asked feeling Dean grab you around the waist with one arm to hold you in place while he repeated the question.

Tracy's eyes never moved off of Sam "My family's dead because of him" "What?" Sam asked and in that moment you could've knocked Tracy flat just for the guilt in his eyes. She looked back at you then at Dean before saying "I watched a demon slaughter my parents and the whole time it talked about how it was celebrating how some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage" you looked over your shoulder at Dean and he slid his arm from around you. "Ok we got to move. Y/N you go with Sam and Irv, Tracy with me" you didn't really want to leave her with Dean in case it became a your brother did this to my people so I'm gonna do this to you type of thing but it wasn't like you were in a position to start an argument. You simply nodded and tapped Sam's shoulder "Let's go"

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You were walking close to Sam gripping your gun and trying to keep an eye out, He had the demon blade in his hand and Irv was behind you. "Sam you copacetic?" Irv asked and Sam nodded "I'm good" Irv glanced at you then said "Good. Give me that toothpick, grab Y/N then you two get Dean and Tracy and get the hell out of here" "What?" you asked in shock and Irv explained "I'm going in there alone. I'll buy you as much time as I can"

"Irv, that's death" Sam glanced at you for help but you didn't know what to say at a friend basically asking for the two of you to be ok with him killing himself. Irv looked ashamed when he finally spoke "Yeah, well it's what I got coming..It's my fault. I was in some dive and I was sloppy and lonely" Sam glanced at you as Irv continued "And I met some girl and the next thing you know, I'm strapped to some bed and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted" "She who?" Sam questioned but you had a feeling you already knew the answer Irv saying "Abaddon" just confirmed you were right.

Irv's voice broke when he said "I gave em up. Pete,Tracy,even you Y/N. I gave em all up. So Sam you hand me that blade and you let me do what I got to do or so help me" but he had moved to the point his back wasn't blocked by any building and a shot rang out a second before Irv fell. Sam instinctively pushed you back and pulled his gun. You nodded that you were ok then you both leaned out to return fire then make a break for the diner that was across the street.

You fell in behind Sam and looked up to see one of the demon's holding you at gunpoint "Boo"

He snatched you to your feet and Sam dove for him with the demon blade but another demon popped up and knocked Sam sideways then both of you were thrown over the counter. You scrambled to your feet again about the time the third demon walked around the corner and smiled "Cool. I didn't miss the best part"

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Safe to say you and Sam were getting your asses handed to you. He had his head slammed into a wall and you thought he was unconscious then suddenly his eyes glowed blue and he looked at "GET DOWN" "Bout time you pop up" you muttered diving back behind the counter and tucking yourself into the smallest ball possible as Ezekiel's wings shown on the wall of the diner.

You stayed in that position until the door of the diner opened and Dean called your name. He let out a visible breath when you popped up. "Fuck don't hide again!" "He told me to!" you argued pointing at Ezekiel who was stabbing the last demon in the head with the demon blade. "They were going to kill him and her Dean" "Ezekiel?" Dean asked and you nodded. "What the hell did you do?" Dean pushed and Ezekiel turned to face him "I was protecting your brother and Y/N. I thought that was what you wanted" "Yeah of course, Thank you we're just still getting used to all this" you cut in and Ezekiel looked around "As am I" "Sam's ok?' you asked and Ezekiel explained that he had been knocked unconscious and in a way still was and wouldn't remember what happened. "So what the hell am I supposed to tell him when he comes to?" Dean asked and Ezekiel held the demon blade out "Which was why I used the knife"

"Right, smart" Dean took the blade then looked at you when Ezekiel spoke "You are troubled still" Dean turned back towards him "Yeah it's just that uh. Yeah this is on me. I was the one who talked Sam out of boarding up hell so every demon deal, every person they kill you're looking at the person who let it happen" "Dean" you tried but he wouldn't even look at you. "You were protecting your brother" Ezekiel offered then continued "I am in Sam's head. Everything he knows I know. and I know that what you did you did out of love"

Dean scoffed "Look Zeke, I'm gonna call you Zeke. I'm not really with the whole uh love and well love" you were standing there looking between the two of them when Ezekiel said "but it is why I said yes" "Yeah and if that goes sideways that's on me too" you finally snapped at Dean "PLEASE STOP HATING YOURSELF FOR FIVE SECONDS"

They both looked a little startled so you took a breath and said "We're trusting you Ezekiel" Dean finally shook himself out the shock of you hollering at him to say "and I just hope you're one of the good guys" "I am" Ezekiel said then added "But I suppose that's what a bad guy would say...Dean Winchester you are going the right thing" you took a deep breath and look at Ezekiel "How about letting Sam take back control? me and Dean will clean up before he wakes up" Ezekiel nodded then walked over to where Sam had been knocked out and sat back.

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Once his head drooped over you moved to help Dean load the weapons back into the bag. Neither of you spoke until Sam started to stir.

When he groaned you made it to his side first "Sam?" "Sammy?" Dean asked helping Sam to his feet. Sam looked at you "What the hell happened?" you shrugged "You took a shot to the head, I was about to be the pinata for these asshats before Dean decided to slide in and save our asses"

Sam looked at Dean "You killed three demons, alone?" Dean shrugged "Took them by surprise. Got a little messy, I got a little lucky oh and I'm awesome so there's that" Sam looked around and you smirked when he said "You are pretty damn awesome"

You heard an engine roll up and looked out the window to see Tracy roll up in baby and looked back at Dean "She gets to drive baby and I don't?" Dean tried to explain but you simply grabbed the weapons as the three of you headed outside.

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Tracy looked at Sam "You good?" "Yeah, more or less" and you smiled when her reply was "Good." She chunked the keys to Dean "I got everything but guess I'm late to the party" "Lucky you" you muttered and walked around to get in behind Sam as Dean said "Let's blow this toxic dump. Burgers and silkwood showers on me"

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After you dropped Tracy off at one of her friend's houses you and the boys got back on the road. You hadn't really said much to either of them. You were thinking about Ezekiel and if he truly was a good guy. Sam was used to the way you'd get quiet sometimes but Dean had looked in the mirror about a dozen times before you finally said "Speak Dean" he shrugged "You pissed at me?"

You knew you had to look as confused as you felt so he clarified "Tracy driving baby?" you laughed "Naw if you wanted to let me drive her you would" and shrugged he looked a bit hurt so you winked at him to let him know you weren't upset about that.

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Twenty miles from Lebanon Dean decided to stop to get Kevin some food. You were sitting in the backseat with your head leaned back while Sam checked his emails.

You glanced up when the door closest to you opened and was surprised to see Dean holding the car keys out to you "I really don't want you killing me in my sleep" you grinned and snatched them from him not risking him changing his mind.

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When you pulled up to the bunker and killed the engine you looked back at Dean who was watching you and smiled "Thank you" he took the keys that you were holding out and nodded "Wait, you're still staying around right?" you didn't stop to think Sam hadn't heard that conversation between you and Dean before he said "What?" you shook your head and climbed out the car "Don't worry about it Sam I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

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Kevin was nowhere to be found and considering Crowley killed his mom the three of you ran to the armory.

Crowley was beat up but at least not dead and neither was Kevin. "Who worked you over?" Sam asked. Crowley looked at you then said "Martin Hayward and Brandon Favors" "They did this?" you asked but he shook his head "No they're demons. Your boys wanted names, I'm giving names. They're underperformers. Spike them, You're doing me a favor"

Dean smirked "Wow, you break easy" Crowley rolled his eyes "Please,your little plan to have me stir in my own delicious juices? Pathetic. You want intel, I want things too. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Quid pro quo gentlemen" "So these names are freebies?" you asked and Crowley smiled at you "Not at all sweets.You can consider them fair trade for the enjoyment Kevin gave me" "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" You and Dean asked in unison and Crowley quirked an eyebrow at that before saying "He's my new favorite toy. Wind him up and watch him go" You glared at him "You red eyed bastard" then spun around to walk out the armory and find Kevin. You heard Dean tell Sam "Check the names, I'll help Y/N find the kid"

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You found him packed up and trying to leave "Where are you going?" Dean asked but Kevin kept walking so you stepped in his path. "Y/N you can't keep me locked up here. I'm leaving" "Like hell" Dean said and you cut your eyes at him "Kev we told you not to talk to Crowley he messes with your head" "He said my mom was alive, that if I let him go he'd give her back"

"And you believed him?" Dean asked with a scoff. "He's still in there isn't he?" you moved to put yourself between Dean and Kevin before saying "Kev, Crowley's lying" "And if he's not?" he asked and you were glad for once that Dean answered "Than she's dead, in every way that matters anyways. We're sorry Kevin"

"I know you're dying to bolt. I get it but out that door it's angels and demons and they'd all love to get their hands on a prophet so even with Crowley here..It's still the safest place for you" you took a breath hoping you'd gotten through to the kid. "and we need you" Dean added.

It hurt your heart when Kevin assumed "Because I'm useful?" but you couldn't help but smile when Dean answered "No,because you're family. Same as Y/N. If you don't think after all we've been through together we all wouldn't die for each other man I don't know what to tell you. We're all we got but hey if none of that matters to you then I won't stop you and I won't let Y/N"

Kevin looked at you then slowly nodded "Ok" you cut your eyes at Dean "I'm gonna get him to his room then I'll come find you and Sam"

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You walked into the library and heard Dean telling Sam "You have helped a lot more people than you've hurt" and guessed it was due to what Tracy said so you stepped further in and Dean waved you over and sat a glass of whiskey in front of you.

You took it then sat down next to Sam. Dean looked back at him then said "All of that was then" he held up his glass so you did the same and bumped Sam's shoulder so he'd join in when Dean said "Here's to now"

You clicked your glasses against theirs then took a sip. "You both ready for it?" Sam asked so you looked at Dean who questioned "Ready for what?" "Fallens angels, Abaddon. Cas losing his halo, Crowley living in our basement"

You half laughed "Dean you invited me to move into a freakin sitcom" Dean shrugged "At least you have company?" Then turned his attention to Sam "What about you? How's the engine running?"

Sam looked between the two of you before saying "Honestly? I feel better than I have in a long time. I know it's crazy out there but I look around here and I see friends and family. I'm happier than I've been in forever. It's just things are good" Dean met your eyes and nodded "Never better"

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Sam had already headed to bed and Dean went to check in on Kevin. You knew you wouldn't wind down for a while so you collected the books Kevin had pulled about the knights of hell and laid them out across one of the tables in the library.

You poured yourself another glass of whiskey then sat down. You were halfway through the first book when Dean cleared his throat and you glanced up to see him leaning against the doorway "I figured you went to bed" you said and held the bottle out. He took it then sat across from you "I figured you did too"

He poured a glass then reached for one of the books so you slid it across to him. The two of you read in silence for a few minutes before he called your name. You glanced up "Yeah?" "What was that about?" You weren't exactly sure what he meant so you asked "What was what about?"

He closed the book and for once there was no humor in his face when he asked "You yelling at me about not hating myself for five minutes?" Oh that was what he meant. You finally answered "You're very self deprecating Dean even worse than Sam. I can't stand it" he nodded but still pushed "Why?"

You sighed and laid the book down pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and trying to get the words right before you spoke them "You're a good man Dean. You damn near raised Sam, you have saved so many people. You have a good heart and even when you fuck up it's due to good intentions and don't start about the road to hell being paved with good intentions you know what I mean. When it comes down to it there's no one else I'd rather have to back me in a fight or as a friend" the corner of his lips ticked up in a small smirk "um thanks?" You shrugged "It's the truth. Now let's finish with these books we're currently on then I think we should head to bed" "Yours or mine?" He teased with a smirk but you knew the best way to handle Dean was to give his own medicine right back to him so you quickly fired back "Oh honey I just don't think you could handle me" and laughed at the look on his face "Yeah I can definitely see why Sam likes having you around" "oh and you don't like having me around not even in the least?" You asked and and he rolled his eyes then pushed the book you'd been reading back at you "Read your book Y/N"

You turned your attention back to the book but noticed the way he kept glancing your way for the next half hour. When you finally closed your book to head to bed you stood and stretched "See you in the morning?" He nodded "I'll be the best looking one" you shook your head with a smile then headed to your room.

Tags: @akshi8278 @facadeformyrealblog

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fic #always be yours

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick.

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here.

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business.

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning.

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay.

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one.

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable.

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan.

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways.

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.”

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch.

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous, “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth.

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away.

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?”

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?”

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth.

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.”

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

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

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start.

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth.

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him.

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits.

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure.

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same.

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away.

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread.

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs.

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat.

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.”

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip.

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed.

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes.

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable.

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers.

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust.

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him.

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea.

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck.

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him.

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed.

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs.

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be.

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit”

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.”

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster.

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg.

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations.

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened.

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye.

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would.

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #reverse!AU #reverse AU #monster march

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newmusickarl · 3 years

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Album & EP Recommendations

Album of the Week: Grapefruit Season by James Vincent McMorrow

“I’m trying to be less prepared” stated Irish singer-songwriter James Vincent McMorrow this past week at his Rough Trade Nottingham In-Store show. This was mentioned in the context of McMorrow telling the audience of his decision to “wing it” for his first gig back post-COVID lockdown, rather than intensely rehearsing as he would previously. It turns out this new laidback outlook on life has been key to McMorrow coping better with the anxiety he has dealt with his whole life, but also to unlocking the songs that are to be found on his fifth album, Grapefruit Season.

During the Nottingham show to which I was lucky enough to attend, McMorrow made a point to say that this new album, his first in four years, is the one for which he is most proud, as he felt it was him being as open, honest and care-free as possible with his audience of listeners. This is evident almost immediately on second track Gone, which feels like the tone-setter for the rest of the album, centred on a striking refrain of “I give less f*cks than I used to, still give a lot of f*cks.” Discussing the track with Broadway World last year, McMorrow said:

“Gone is about the disintegration of relationships. In my case, the disintegration of my relationship with myself. No song or lyric I’ve ever written has come as close to this one at capturing how I feel about life - how I hear it, my fear of it, my obsession with it, my belligerent belief that I can control it, my quiet acknowledgment in the middle of the night that I will never control a single thing. And there’s nothing wrong with any of it. There’s absolute beauty in embracing the chaos and the decay.”

This freedom and “embracing the chaos” attitude have clearly helped McMorrow to hit a new creative peak, with many of the tracks on this new collection some of the very best he’s written to date. From the soulful guitar grooves of Planes In The Sky, the string-tinged piano ballad Poison To You and the infectious downbeat pop melody of Hollywood & Vine, McMorrow is constantly found in fine form. However, arguably the album’s finest moment comes in the form of Headlights, a gloriously produced, synth-driven track, which also features some wonderful gospel-like vocals and bluesy guitars towards the back end of the track. It’s quite dazzling, much like almost every track here.

James Vincent McMorrow has always been an immensely talented songwriter, but thanks to his moment of personal enlightenment he is sounding better than ever on this latest album. With unfiltered, sincere lyrics and inventive sonic explorations, Grapefruit Season makes for quite the audio journey.

Listen here

Montero by Lil Nas X

Rapper-singer Lil Nas X seems to cause controversy through simply being unapologetically himself and as a result, his debut album Montero has been one of the most hotly anticipated pop albums of 2021.

Having burst onto the scene with his breakout single Old Town Road, Lil Nas X has since delivered several massive singles in the build-up to this debut, with each one accompanied by a cinematic or visually extravagant music video. The reaction to these by some narrow-minded folk has been that of shock and outrage, with people seemingly appalled and astounded by Nas X’s openness with his own sexuality. Off the back of the bold, tongue-in-cheek video for the title track, some even suggested the singer was actively promoting Satanism through his work. This is all of course nonsense and if they were to listen to his debut album with an open mind, they would find that Lil Nas X is just a pop star that is willing to be refreshingly honest and candid about who he is and what he wants from life.

Both introspective and confessional, Nas X proves across every track on this record that he’s not only capable of writing great pop music, but he’s also not in the least bit afraid of showing his vulnerability to the listener either. This can be seen on recent single Sun Goes Down, where Nas X offers insight to his struggles growing up and fitting in, conflicted by his complexion, his homosexuality, and finding himself lonely and isolated as a result. There are several quite tender moments like this, including the brilliant guitar-driven rock ballad Life After Salem, however they are evenly balanced out with more upbeat moments like horn-backed single Industry Baby. There’s also some pitch-perfect collaborations to be found here with Doja Cat, Megan Thee Stallion, Miley Cyrus and, most notably, Elton John, all lending their talents at appropriate moments.

However arguably the strongest moment comes when Nas X dips his toe into some pop punk for the album’s sort-of centrepiece, Lost In The Citadel. With some stylish production, heartfelt lyrics and a killer mix of guitars and synths, it’s just a mightily well-crafted pop song.

Overall, this is a star-making first outing for Nas X, who was already well on his way to global success before this record had even landed. However now he is well on his way and importantly with this debut, he has shown he is not just a flash in the pan but a truly great popstar in the making.

Listen here

Silence by Alexis Taylor

And finally this week, Hot Chip frontman Alexis Taylor released his quite stunning fourth solo album, Silence, a record that comes from the other end of the spectrum to that of his electronic outfit. Built entirely around Alexis’ soulful vocals, a piano and some well-placed, understated string arrangements, there is no dance to be found here but rather a beautiful collection of ambient ballads.

The pick of these is the title track itself as well as Violence, the latter of which offers one of the most haunting tracks I’ve heard all year. Ending quite unceremoniously with the gentle crashing of the Wollongong Waves, if you need something peaceful and reflective this week then I can’t recommend this album enough.

Listen here

Tracks of the Week

Let’s Get The Party Started by Tom Morello & Bring Me The Horizon

Kicking off the singles front this week is a rock collaboration of gargantuan proportions as Tom Morello of Rage Against The Machine teams up with Sheffield metal behemoths, Bring Me The Horizon. Built on goliath-sized riffs and an anthemic chorus, this one is a straight up rock banger that will have you moshing out in no time.

Listen here

U&ME by Alt-J

Elsewhere, Leeds-based trio Alt-J marked their return this week with the first single from their upcoming fourth album, The Dream, which is due to drop early next year. My initial thoughts are that this track feels a lot like more of the same, with Joe Newman’s quirky vocals backdropped by some folky harmonies and guitar melodies. It is not a dramatic comeback or shift in style, but fans of their sound will no doubt still enjoy this one.

Listen here

Hall of Mirrors by Let’s Eat Grandma

Also making their comeback this week are the brilliant duo of Rosa Walton and Jenny Hollingworth, otherwise known as Let’s Eat Grandma. Hall of Mirrors is their first new music since their phenomenal 2018 sophomore album I’m All Ears, and sees the duo shift away from their experimental electronica over to the dreamy synth-pop melodies that they first started introducing on that wonderful second album.

Listen here

Godsend by Sundara Karma

Also returning with new music this week are Reading-based indie outfit Sundara Karma, who continue with the pop experimentation they started on last year’s Kill Me EP. With a heartbreaking chorus and some soaring instrumentation, it’s a comeback that’s both immensely moving but also quite triumphant.

Listen here

Earthlings by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis have also announced a new B-Sides & Rarities album this week. Due for release in October, it pulls together all their best lost gems from 2006 to 2020, including this stunning off-cut from Ghosteen that features gentle tribal chanting over some truly transcendent synths.

Listen here

FAKE by Lola Young

Singer-songwriter Lola Young continues to be one of my favourite discoveries of the year so far, with this new single seeing her channel the late-great Amy Winehouse for this soulful and bluesy ballad. If you’ve not heard Lola sing yet, just check this one out and I guarantee you’ll be blown away.

Listen here

I’m Sorry by Josef Salvat

Australian singer-songwriter Josef Salvat also released his brilliant new single I’m Sorry this week, a pulsating synth-driven track with a wonderful neon-glow and 80s-style pop shimmer.

Listen here

Set You Free by Kyla La Grange

And finally this week, Kyla La Grange made her long-awaited return to the music world, releasing this absolutely amazing and completely unique cover of the N-Trance classic, Set You Free. Also comes accompanied with a typically artistic and colourful video from La Grange, which you should find the time to check out.

Listen here

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authenticcadence18 · 4 years

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Ladynoir July Day 4: Disguise

When the akuma Ladybug and Chat Noir are tracking leads them to a superhero con, they disguise themselves...as themselves.

@ladynoirjuly2020

AO3

...

“....are you sure this is necessary?” Ladybug hissed to her partner, inwardly cursing the cheap spandex she’d been wearing for over an hour. “There’s Ladybugs and Chat Noirs everywhere. Surely we could sneak around in our real costumes and not be spotted.”

“You can never be too careful, m’lady!” Chat whispered back. “Sometimes the best disguise is a terrible one.”

“...couldn’t I have at least MADE US some terrible costumes??” Ladybug replied as they slipped past a booth selling superhero-themed artwork. “I DO own a sewing machine, remember?”

“Ah ah ah, that would’ve brought too much attention towards us too,” Chat replied. “Unique, homemade costumes would be far more interesting to these people than the ‘Official Ladybug and Chat Noir’ outfits sold by the company that made the movie about us last year. THESE costumes are the most generic you can find, which means no one will notice us.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with wearing inexpensive, main-brand costumes to a con!!” he announced to no one in particular. “All forms of cosplay are valid!!”

“....who is he talking to…?” Ladybug muttered to herself.

“But, for the purposes of our stakeout, it’s the perfect cover,” Chat concluded with a grin.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “....anyone who chooses to wear this costume deserves a badge of honor…” she grumbled, rubbing her arms and grimacing. “It’s so itchy.”

...

Ladybug and Chat Noir--also known to a select few as Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste--had been trailing an elusive akuma for the past few days. The akuma had been leaving them clues to aid in their search...apparently the victim’s schtick was inspired by the children’s show she’d been forced to watch for hours on end while babysitting before succumbing to Hawkmoth’s akumatization as a means of escape. The most recent clue had pointed them to the Superhero Convention taking place in Paris that weekend. The Paris Convention Center had been converted into a celebration of all-things heroic...and seeing as Ladybug and Chat Noir were by far Paris’ most popular heroes, costumes and merchandise for the duo far outweighed any representation for other heroes (both fictional and real).

It had been Adrien’s idea to attend the convention as their superhero selves, but in disguise. Marinette hadn’t been too keen on entering an akuma-infested convention center without the protection of their miraculous suits, but Adrien assured her they’d be recognized in a minute in their real outfits.

“These people know everything there is to know about us,” Adrien had explained.

"Well...almost everything." At that, he'd grinned slyly and planted a quick kiss on Marinette's temple. “If we want to take the akuma by surprise, we’ll have to blend in until the last minute...then we can transform and defeat her once and for all.”

Looking back, Marinette suspected said kiss had addled her brain long enough for her to agree to her boyfriend’s crazy plan without asking where he’d be getting their costumes from.

...

“..you know, you seem to know a lot about this ‘con’ stuff…” Ladybug pointed out as her partner briefly gawked over a vintage Wonder Woman poster before regaining his composure and continuing to walk at her side.

“I may dabble in a little cosplay every now and then…” Chat replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Ladybug hit her partner with a deadpan stare, and he flinched.

“Okay, so, MAYBE I’ve never actually been to a con before this...my father is way too strict to ever let me do something like that...but I’ve always wanted to go to one! So I’ve watched a ton of panels on YouTube, read articles about how they work, tried making cosplays with the clothes I already have when my father thinks I’m practicing piano...that sort of thing.”

Ladybug chuckled and ruffled his hair, suddenly not as bothered by the cheap mask pinching her eyes. “Maybe the akuma can wait, then! We’re here, we’re all dressed up...maybe we can have a bit of fun before we find her.”

Chat’s eyes widened. “Wait...really? You mean it? But I thought you wanted to get this over with as soon as possible! You know...since you hate the costumes. And there’s an akuma on the loose.” Ladybug shrugged and grinned. “Look, if these disguises really are as good as you say they are, the akuma won’t be able to find us...and it isn’t like she’s going to do anything particularly evil, either. All she wanted was a break from watching Blue’s Clues with her baby cousin, which I totally get...I think this chase is a way of prolonging the inevitable for her.”

“She probably got stuck watching Joe’s episodes….” Chat murmured meaningfully.

Ladybug took Chat’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Come on. I don’t mind wearing an itchy outfit for a few hours if it means getting to have fun with you. Let’s go find a line to stand in and some expensive merchandise to admire without actually buying it.”

Tears glistened in Chat’s eyes as he followed his girlfriend through the crowd. “...I am so in love with her right now.”

....

I'm writing some one-shots for Ladynoir July! What days will I write for? How many fics will I be able to finish?

...only Ahtohallan knows.

#ladynoir july #ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir fanfic #ladynoir fic #ladynoir fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #my writing #ml post-reveal #ml post-reveal post-relationship #ladynoir july 2020

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stydiaeverafter · 4 years

Text

Invisible Mark

Pairing: Joe x Nicky

Fandom: The Old Guard

Words: 1k

Rating: T

Tags: mentions of death, mentions of blood, minor violence (previous), coming back to life, enemies-to-lovers, soulmates, declarations of love, kissing, post-canon

Summary: Even within the darkness, they always find their way back to each other.

A/N: I've recently watched The Old Guard and what can I say? I'm hooked and obsessed with not only the story, but with Joe and Nicky. Their love is so pure and beautiful. I'm inspired by it. I've read so many wonderful fics, so I wanted to contribute with this short ficlet. I hope you enjoy it!

Read on ao3

Invisible Mark

Nicky didn’t see the flash of light or the metal sword swiping at his throat. He didn’t see Death’s Door or the Pearly White Gates he’d been taught he'd see. What he saw changed the course of his being; his path forever.

He saw those familiar deep brown eyes staring deep into his soul.

No, he wasn’t dead. He was to be reborn.

***

Joe didn’t fear many things, especially dying. He had died more times than he could even begin to count. Joe could recall a time when his focus had been to track it, now his focus was and always would be Nicky.

His main fear always came circling back to Nicky, the love of his existence. He wasn’t afraid of dying but he was afraid of death. Death claiming his love.

Every time it seemed to take a bit longer, and with each second, Joe’s heart pounded with dread and the prayer this wouldn’t be it.

It never got easy watching Nicky die; Nicky feeling pain—it made him sick with unease. He’d been so accustomed to pain but nothing quite tore at his body as when his other half was in torment. Sometimes he prayed if they were to die, that he’d go first just so he could escape the vision and reality of the horror.

These missions gave him a sense of purpose, even more now than ever before with the state of the world, but he wanted a simpler life for Nicky. The man still loved humanity. He greeted the people on the streets with a smile and a good word. He was a true humanitarian down to his roots, even around animals...to all living creatures. Joe didn’t believe in much anymore, but the unwavering good in Nicky was enough to still flicker hope inside his veins.

So if Nicky never woke again to stare at him with those bright sea-glass eyes full of love and sensitivity, then Joe truly would be dead. He might still walk this shit show of an earth, but he would be Death itself. A corpse and nothing more.

As these dark thoughts circled his brain like a tornado, his love gasped for air. Joe moved right into the center of Nicky's vision. The first thing they did when they awoke from the dead, was to find each other. He wanted to give Nicky a sight of comfort and love in those moments; be the light that Nicky was for him.

Those magnificent eyes Joe wanted to stare at for eternity, were staring up at him full of wonder. It was enough to make his heart pound in his chest.

“Took you long enough, my love.”

Nicky shuttered as he healed, and Joe couldn’t look away at the bloodstains marking his beautiful face. It made Joe sick to his stomach. The newest mission could wait; he had to check-in with his love. After mortality decided to finally visit Andy, they all took in the small moments. It was what made immortality so… mortal. So human.

“I’m sorry, Mio Amore.”

Joe brushed his hair out of his face and leaned down to kiss Nicky’s forehead. “I missed you. I cannot stand to be parted from you...even if it’s just minutes. Those are our minutes not to be wasted.”

His love touched his cheek gently and gave a soft smile, “Even when I’m out, I’m with you, Yusuf. You know that by now. I’ll never truly leave you.”

The words sparked joy and sadness in a way nothing else would, and tears formed in Joe’s eyes, “You are too good, Nicolo.”

“I won’t let this world change me,” he replied, maneuvering his body to sit up, grunting in pain as his wounds from the gunshots slowly healed. Joe helped him grasping his thick biceps.

“See anything?”

Sometimes, often enough, they saw flashes during death; flickers of images along their way...a story of sorts.

Nicky nodded, “Of you actually.”

Joe smiled and winked at his love, “I can’t blame you for that. I am one handsome son of a bitch.”

Shaking his head, with a smirk on that patient face, Nicky reached out to hold Joe’s hand, “I saw the vision of the last time you took my life.”

“Oh dear,” Joe replied with a regretful sigh, even though regret couldn’t possibly change a thing of the past. “So me being the first thing you saw when you woke up probably wasn’t the best sight, right?”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Yusuf,” Nicky whispered, squeezing his hand. “The last time I died I saw not only your eyes but your soul. It changed my life forever.”

Joe remembered it like it had been yesterday, not a millennium ago. In the way, he cut a line in Nicky’s throat and yet Nicky’s eyes had widened as if he were seeing him for the first time. Joe had felt everything all at once, yet it hadn’t been all at once. What they had between them was only growing and building from their first kill. He could recall praying Nicky would open his eyes and if he didn’t, he wanted to lie by his side and be washed away in the sand, too. Luckily, Nicky had opened those beautiful eyes and reached to him. He had reached back. And the rest was history in the making.

It had been the moon shining light in his dark world. Nicky was and would remain his light.

“It changed mine, too.”

Their lips met in a sweet embrace that was both soothing and familiar, yet thrilling and passionate.

As they finally pulled away, feeling the pain of separation, Joe traced Nicky’s jaw with his fingers softly. “You’re the invisible mark within me, my love. The one others might not see but it is all I see. This mark is my everything and it defines who I am. When I feel it, I see only you. You are all that is good in this world. In my world.” He paused to take in every detail of Nicky’s face. “You are my heart, Nicolo.”

“And you’re my soul, you sap.”

Touching their foreheads together was a vow of remembrance of everything they were and a promise of everything they would be.

They would never be without.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #the old guard fic #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #my fic

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habibialkaysani · 3 years

Text

Touch (Laurel/Nyssa; T) - earth-44

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa

Summary: Laurel and Nyssa. Dinah and Amina. Green Arrow and the Black Canary. Daredevil and the Black Sky. The Flash and Vibe.

Across the multiverse, they go by many names, surrounded by different people at different times in their lives. But there is one golden link between the Dinah Laurel Lances and Nyssa Raatkos across the infinite earths - that they always find each other. And every time, their story starts with a single touch.

A/N: As I recently watched The Old Guard, I was inspired by the dynamic between Joe and Nicky and immediately dreamed up (as I so often do) a Lauryssa AU for those characters. So here is a little bit of it - and then there will be an expansion of that story as a separate fic, to come sometime soon I hope as it’s half-finished.

Read at AO3

Earth-44

(In which Laurel and Nyssa are immortals who have been together for a thousand years fighting righteous battles side by side as part of an army, a la Nicolo di Genova and Yusuf al-Kaysani in The Old Guard.)

The chains cut coldly on Laurel's wrists, drawing blood, but she barely noticed as she continued to struggle against them. She had eyes only for Nyssa. Even after an eternity of witnessing the love of her life die and come back, Laurel could not bear to even contemplate a world without Nyssa in it.

There were questions, vague and half-formed in her mind, about why they were taken, where the others were, particularly their newest recruit, Sarah Diggle, for whom Laurel and Nyssa already felt responsible.

Laurel wanted to know who these soldiers around them were, where they were going - and, of course, the age-old question about whether they had finally been caught, and if they would be put in a cage as a lab experiment.

But at the forefront of Laurel's thoughts was what lay before her, and that was her beloved, her partner, and her soulmate. Nyssa was sprawled on her front, having been shot when attempting to escape her restraints, and even now as Laurel's eyes moved down further, she winced at the sight of Nyssa’s lifeless body.

This was always the worst part. While Laurel and Nyssa were hardly strangers to immortality and its secrets, no amount of dying could make Laurel used to the agonising seconds and minutes before Nyssa finally gasped back to life. And the hard truth was that despite Nyssa's words that she would always come back, they both knew this was impossible to predict. Their immortality would run out one day, and every time they got caught in the crosshairs of another enemy, Laurel wondered if today was it.

"Nyssa," she whispered, feeling a surge of anger not at the tears that stung in her eyes but that one of the soldiers - a square-jawed blond man - was eyeing her closely. "Nyssa, habibti - wake up."

But Nyssa was still motionless in the armoured van. The soldiers had shot her squarely in the back, but that had been minutes ago, surely. She should have awakened by now. Unless…

"Ya Nyssa!" Laurel cried, louder this time, and the blond soldier grabbed her by the shoulders roughly.

"Oi. Shut up!"

Laurel just ignored him, reaching out despite her restraints to touch Nyssa's cheek. "Nyssa, please. It's me, habibti. Wake up!"

"I just told you to shut the fuck up!" the soldier barked.

"Or what?" Laurel shot back. "You can kill me too if you want. I’ll just come back, and make no mistake - I'll be angrier." The guard spluttered at that, unable to form anything coherent in reply, and Laurel went back to shaking Nyssa in an effort to rouse her. "Come back to me, my love. Please." For good measure, Laurel blessed herself and said a silent prayer, and somehow, miraculously, someone upstairs seemed to have heard her, because Nyssa then started coughing.

Automatically Laurel looked up at the heavens above - obscured, of course, by the armoured ceiling of the van, which should have made it less poetic - and thanked every deity she could name in her head. There was blood in Nyssa's hair as Laurel stroked it tenderly, leaning forward so her forehead touched the crown of her beloved.

"Are you okay?" Laurel asked softly in Arabic.

"I think so," Nyssa replied, also in Arabic, before switching loudly to English. "Very pissed off, though."

"As am I," Laurel said, glowering at the blond soldier. She softened, though, in an instant when Nyssa squeezed Laurel’s hand. "I'm just glad I didn't lose you. They shot you."

"You will never lose me, hayati. And I'm fine." Nyssa groaned in pain as she lifted her shirt and the two bullets that had temporarily stymied Nyssa popped out and rolled onto the floor. Laurel could see the exit wound knitting, just under Nyssa's ribcage, and she winced. As she did so, though, she could sense the blond soldier's leer before she saw it.

"Aw, are you two together or something? Is she your girlfriend?"

Nyssa just rolled her eyes, letting out a faint sigh of fatigue and exasperation as another soldier then joined in. They knew what was going to come next - Laurel and Nyssa had been together for over a thousand years, but one thing that had worsened, rather than gotten better, was the way the world saw them.

"Feel free to make out in front of us. Always found that hot."

"To call you childish would be an insult - " Laurel snapped, "- to children, that is. You speak like prepubescent boys guided by nothing but the pathetic newfound stirring of your loins. You could not even begin to fathom with your simple mind the depths of love I have for this woman. You lack the maturity to understand how her very breath awakens my faith and her smile strengthens my soul, that even after centuries together I fall in love with her more every single day. She is not my girlfriend, little boy. She is my moral compass, my north star, my guiding light when I am lost."

"And your wife," Nyssa added helpfully and Laurel almost forgot her anger for a moment as she automatically smiled. Nyssa had a way of doing that, of tempering the storm of emotions raging in Laurel's head at the best of times.

“Yes,” Laurel said. “And she is my wife.”

Slowly, the soldier crouched down so his face was uncomfortably close to Laurel’s. “So you’ve joined the twenty-first century. Congratulations. Why the fuck should I care about that?”

Laurel did not even flinch. "Because if you so much as touch a hair on her head, you will find out just how much." For good measure, she headbutted the man, with such force that he was knocked onto his back, his head hitting the van floor with a satisfying thump.

"Ralph!" one of the other soldiers yelped, immediately going to his aid.

"He does look like a Ralph, doesn't he?" Laurel observed.

“Yeah. I think he does,” Nyssa said after a moment. “That was nice, though.”

Laurel smiled. “Yeah?”

"Indeed, my love. Romance and stamina?” Nyssa said teasingly, her chained hand going behind Laurel’s neck to pull her wife towards her. “You must save some for the rest of us, dearest." And despite their circumstances Laurel laughed.

"What do you think, Nyssa?" Laurel asked quietly. "Do you think this could be like Marrakech in '67?"

Nyssa smiled back. "You read my mind." She waited, then leaned in as if to kiss Laurel, but at the last second they both moved so quickly the soldiers didn't even have a chance to think, let alone raise their guns. With her chained hands Laurel got a hold of the two soldiers nearest her while kneeing a third between the legs. She knew from the crunching sound she heard that Nyssa had probably broken some bones, and as Laurel caught sight of Ralph feebly stirring a few feet away, she kicked his face for good measure.

Then and only then did Laurel pull Nyssa towards her for a kiss, and she sighed contentedly in her wife's mouth.

"Keys?" Laurel asked, and Nyssa shook her head. The two of them rifled through the soldiers' pockets just to be sure, but they came up with nothing. "Shit.”

“It seems we are out of luck. They must have locked us in from the inside. We must simply await our fate, habibti."

“I hate doing that,” Laurel muttered.

"I know you do, hayati, but we are out of options."

Laurel looked up, met her wife's eyes. "How are you always able to stay so enduringly patient?"

Nyssa smiled back. "Why, from centuries of practice, of course."

As if on cue, the van ground to a halt, and when the doors opened by yet more soldiers, Ralph’s unconscious body rolled out with a thump.

Laurel cleared her throat. “Any chance you motherfuckers can get these chains off us?”

"Perhaps don't lead with that, my heart," Nyssa said, but it wasn't with a lot of conviction and she was unsurprised when the soldiers ignored her words and dragged her to her feet. Next to her, they were doing the same with Laurel.

"Habibti, I love you, but you know playing nice isn't going to get us anywhere," Laurel said, annoyance laced into her tone from how the men were gripping her shoulders with far more force than necessary.

"True. We are usually better judges of character," Nyssa said, speaking now to the woman who had orchestrated this whole fiasco - Amanda Waller.

Waller didn't reply, just glowered back at Nyssa.

"It's a nice plane, Amanda," Laurel said, as Nyssa was frogmarched onto the plane waiting for them.

"There's a TV, Laurel!" Nyssa called over her shoulder, and Laurel couldn't suppress her laugh if she wanted to.

"Ooh! Any champagne?" Laurel asked, her heart soaring when the words elicited a laugh from her love.

Her smile was short-lived, though, as Waller brought up the rear and the plane door closed behind them. This was Laurel's second worst fear come true, of capture and inevitable experimentation, and she wondered if it would lead to her greatest fear of all - that she would be separated eternally from her beloved.

She closed her eyes, as she was being strapped onto the seat of the plane next to her wife. The restraints around her ankles were unnecessarily tight and Laurel could barely move her wrists, but in that moment she felt the gentle press of a single finger hooking around one of hers. It was Nyssa, reassuring her through the tiniest touch that she was there, that she was okay, that they would be, and Laurel wanted so badly to seize Nyssa's hand and kiss it, but she couldn't.

So instead, she squeezed her wife's finger in return, and then murmured the prayer that she hoped was sent up to the heavens, for the two of them to emerge from this intact and together.

Tagging: @skydisneylover @stungunmilly2 @mewis-sisters @therewas-a-girl @bulbasaurfan93 @nyssalance @istanlena @abbyscameron @nyxxyn22 @ineedhelp25fan @theolivekiddo @me-and-sweatpants @rainboisland

#laurel x nyssa #lauryssa #black assassin #laurel lance #nyssa al ghul #arrow #the old guard au #the old guard #arrow fanfiction #mine #my fic #homophobia tw #fic: touch

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argumentl · 3 years

Text

The Freedom of Expression Ep 6 - 'Antrum', the most cursed movie in history.

K: Hi this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, and The Freedom of Expression..Joe san, Tasai san..

J: Yep

K: I think the viewers already realise this, but we're shooting four epidodes at once. (note:* the covid episodes were aired at short notice after ep 3*).

J: Yes, four.

T: Our clothes havn't changed.

K: Is our positioning ok like this? Wouldn't it be better with you in the middle, Kaoru?

K: Well, next time we could change seats if we want? But, I havn't seen you two in a long time, I thought it would be better to look at you from over here.

J: Ah, yes. If you are in the middle you have to keep looking from side to side..

K: Yeah, so..we could change seats next time...We might even change our filming location?

J: For sure

K: I don't know though...we can carry on without making too many set plans.

J: I see.

K: He's not coming out today, is he?

J: He's not. Let's leave him alone.

K: Well, shall we get started?... Oh, actually, when we finished recording the last epidode, my boss came here, and said 'that was a lie, thats wrong'.

J: Oh, what was it again? He took offense to something written in a magazine.

T:...and stormed over there.

K: He didn't actually angrily storm over there, he apparently went there, not to tell them to write nice stuff, but to get them to write what his band was really like, and he was fine with it then *1

J: Ahh, to stand out?

K: He was quite agitated. *T laughs*

J: No, but its a bit worrying isn't it? From the listeners point of view, you hear that type of story and interpret it as something amusing, the story gets communicated on in that way.

K: Well, theres no fire without smoke..

J: You mean, theres no smoke without fire.

K: Yeh.. Its because he's just a bit scary *the others laugh*, thats why that type of gossip appears.

J: Of course

K: Right?

T: I see

J: Well, we don't know what he was really like back then...

K: I don't either.

J: But he surely wasn't one of those cuddly, happy people?

K: People in bands were just kinda scary back then, right?

J: They were scary, yeah. But they were also really cool, weren't they?

K: *nods*

J: ..in reality....I think they were.

K: We're (Dir en grey) not scary though, are we?

J, T: Uhh... *K laughs*

J: You are not scary, but...

K: We're not THAT scary right? *laughing*

J: You have an incredible aura..

K: Well, lets leave it..

J: Fow now, lets just say your boss wasn't trying to make excuses..

K: Excuses? *laughs*

J: ..he was just trying to tell us that the stuff we said was not true. Right, well lets introduce today's topic.

' "You watch it, you die", Antrum - The most cursed movie in history.'

'Unbelievablely, its to be released in Japan, this incredible movie is to be screened. Filmed in California, America in 1970, the movie 'Antrum'. Rumored to be excessively scary, and to bring about misfortune to those who watch it, it was said that this movie should not be released, but buried and restricted. However, in 1988, it was screened for the first time in Budapest, Hungary, and during its screening, a fire broke out in the theatre and it burnt to the ground. 56 people died in this incident. Since then, whenever this movie is screened, the people involved have suffered mysterious deaths, one after the other. It became a work of art that no-one wanted to touch. Then, we arrive at the present day. After a long search, documentary movie makers Michael Licini and David Amito discovered the 35mm film reel of 'Antrum'. They have decided to screen it with the warning that viewers must take personal responsibility for anything that happens. The movie will be screened this year in venues across the country from Friday.'

K: Ahh, is it okay?...if this kind of incident occurs?

J: It says, if you watch it you die!

T: Its spooky.

K: Whether it lives up to expectations or not, theres trouble either way.

J,T: Thats right.

J: If people die, they're in trouble, and if people don't die, and they get sued for misrepresentation, they'll be like 'What? Arn't you glad you didn't die?!'

T: I wonder what will happen.

J: They say everyone has to take personal responsibility.

K: Well, I'm slightly interested.

J: Would you go and watch it?

K: Hmm, I want to see it, yeh.

J: You're attracted to it?

K: Um, Horror is...

Kami: Nononono! You must not go to see this, you must not go to see this!

J: Ahh, Kami says you musn't, he's worried suddenly....Its not okay, Kami?

Kami: No no, its not. I was quiet so far because I didn't want to have anything to do with this topic.

J: Oh, with this topic?

Kami: Yeh, its really scary.

J: Is this type of thing not good?

Kami: Its not good. I have to work nights..

J: Ah, night shifts? *the others laugh*

Kami: and I work alone.

J: Yeh.

K: Well, yeh, thats scary.

Kami: They say you'll die, I don't wanna die on my night shift.

J: Yeh, but gods can't die can they?

T: Right.

Kami: Well, outwardly.

J: What does that mean? Outwardly?? *laughing*

Kami: We don't die completely..

J: Oh, but from the human perspective you appear to die?

Kami: Yeah, I appear to die, but then am reborn. *J, T laugh*

K: He doesn't need to be scared.

T: Pretty interesting.

Kami: No no, the bit where I appear to be dead..its kinda troublsome.

J: Its trouble? You're a bit nervous about that?

Kami: Yeh, im nervous. Its not good.

J: Its not good?

Kami: Yeah, going to see this movie is not good.

J: But, there is a certain attraction by people to these kind of supernatural, occult things isn't there?

K, T: Yeah, yeah.

J: You know, things that science can't prove.

Kami: Yeah, I know about all of it though.

J: You do?

Kami: Yes, I do. Because, god created everything on earth.

T: Well, yeah.

J: I see.

T: So, he shouldn't really be scared of this, should he?

K: Really, that makes this situation here part of the occult too, doesn't it?

J: This is the occult. *T laughs* Us talking to a god..*K laughing* Talking to a god about movies even!

Kami: Well, there are many types of god aren't there?

J: Ahh, there are many types, yeh.

Kami: Yeh yeh, there are all knowing-all powerful gods...and gods like this one here. *the others laugh*

J: This god isn't very 'all knowing-all powerful'?

Kami: No, im probably in the lower orders.

J: *laughing* Yeh, we know that!

T: He sounds like a salaryman.

J: A hierarchy of gods..

Kami: Well, the middle-lower orders.

J: The middle-lower oders? *laughing*

T: Thats quite low, right? *J laughing*

J: It might just not be limited to recent times, but isn't there quite an occult boom going on now? How do you see it Kaoru?

Kami: An occult boom?

J: An occult boom.

Kami: Well, maybe its because a lot of things have already been solved. As science progresses, we know more...like the Higgs particle, you know it?

J: I've heard the name, but I don't know the details.

Kami: Its kinda like how the source of gravity was discovered. They spin it round really fast and crash it, right?

J: What a simple explanation!

Kami: Its in Switzerland!

T: In Switzerland...

J: They have the equipment to spin it and crash it powerfully, right?

Kami: Yes, yes. Atoms, they crash atoms into one another..and when they crash, the atoms break apart, and various particles have been discovered....and they saw a black hole forming and such. These kinds of mysterious things are really happening. *2.

T: Ehh, Kami, thats impressive.

Kami: So it could be just because of these solved mysteries, peoples' imaginations are swelling and giving them wild ideas?

J: I see.

K: Well, there must be people who like this stuff.

Kami: Wasn't my explanation easy to understand?

J: Yes, it was very well explained.

Kami: Spinning it around and bashing really hard, and then a kind of mysterious feeling...

*everyone laughs*

J: Thst is super easy to understand. Explained in simple terms.

T: Exactly

J: Only by a god..*3

T: Hey Joe, is that okay? *laughs*

J: Kami's awful aspects have transfered to me. *T laughs* The hopless parts. Those parts are showing in me.

Kami: Don't say hopeless!

K *laughs*

J: Oh did you hear that bit?

Kami: I heard it.

J: Of course, Kami hears everything (direct translation: hell ears)

K: This is awful!

Kami: Not hell, heaven.

T: Isn't this fourth time getting tiring?

*laughing*

J: Of course not

T: Actually, ive been to an event before where a spirit appeared.

J: Ehh?

T: When I say spirit, I mean Lincoln. There was a movie about the American president, Lincoln. So I went as a reporter to a weird movie event about it. And there was a medium there who could channel Lincoln so we could ask anything.

J: Wow...so, Lincoln spoke to you in person?

T: The medium started going 'Mmmghh mmmghh' and then 'Ready', so we all thought Lincoln had come to us, and we were told to ask anything, so someone asked 'Mr Lincoln, Mr Lincoln, what did you think of the movie? ..and after about three seconds the medium suddenly dropped down and said, 'Lincoln has left us'.

J: Ehh?! He didn't say anything?!

T: No, Lincoln didn't say anything.

J: Just 'Mmgh, mmgh'?

T: Yeah, and then he fell straight down..and was finished in three seconds. The whole venue had been waiting so eagarly...

J: What kind of article did Tokyo Sports write?

T: About how the venue was....*4

*laughing*

K: That fits well with this show!

J: This kind of chaos. So you were there, Tasai san?

T: Yes, I was reporting on it.

J: Oh really?

T: Yeh, that type of thing happened.

J: I wonder how the medium was after that, after Lincoln left.

T: She's getting paid for nothing.

K: Well, maybe some more accidents happened...

J: Oh yeah, she felt the danger. She didn't research enough before calling him.

T: She should have studied.

J: Maybe she didn't expect that many reporters?

K: Oh, maybe, she thought 'oh no..'

J: Maybe she was shocked to see so many people when she turned up. But the movie company paid her to promote the movie like this right?

T: Yes

J: Ahh, but people will probably go to see this movie right, Kami?

Kami: As for Lincoln coming down, he probably didn't say anything because he planned to speak in English.

J, T: Oh yeah.

K: Maybe

Kami: They forgot how to speak English?

J: I see..he hasn't been called in a long time, so even he forgot how to speak English?

Kami: No no, the medium.

J: Ah, the medium? Ah, I see.

Kami: Even I forget what to say sometimes, as soon as I think about it, and when im listening, you're like 'oh he's gone'

J: Isn't that dementia? Kami, can you speak to dead people like a medium can, can gods do it?

Kami: Gods? There are gods who can do that.

K: But you can't.

J: But you can't?

Kami: No, I can't do anything *J laughs*

J: We can only pray to you?

Kami: Yes, only pray.

J: I reckon I could be a god then too.

K: Yeh, yeh.

J: Its pretty interesting, no matter what your capacity, you could be a god, right? *laughing*

Kami: No, being a god is not about your capacity...

J: Oh, its not, im wrong?

Kami: Are you making fun of me?

J: No, im not! Im just too naive.

Kami: Being a god is something you're born with.

T: Ahh, its deep.

Kami: Being a god is something you are born with.

K: He just said that.

J: Im kinda imagining him with a smug face right now. *K laughs*

J: I havn't met him so I don't know though.

Kami: Even though I can't do anything, Im different from you guys.

J: Ah, you are born different?

Kami: Yes, yes, yes.

J: You exist differently from regular humans?

Kami: Yes, yes, yes.

J: I see.

K: We're right back to the occult now, aren't we?

J: Yeh, this is almost like a Tokyo Sports kind of issue.

Kami: No, you mustn't doubt the existence of god!

J: Oh, you musn't?

Kami: You mustn't! If you do, and you watch this movie, you will die.

J: We'll die?

T: Scary!

K: I wonder if we'll really die?

Kami: So believe in god!

K: Oh, if you believe in god, you won't die if you watch this movie?

Kami: Yeh, you can increase your shrine donation or something..

J: It ends up with money again *K laughs* He always ends up talking about money.

T: Whats up with him? *K laughing*

J: He doesn't have anything nice to say. Its always down to money in the end. With Ghosn he was the same.

T: He was, yeh *laughing*

Kami: Thats right

J: This has nothing to do with the movie 'Antrum'...

K: So there is a subscribe option on youtube right?

J: Yes, if you subscribe for us...

K: I think I should say 'please subscribe', I havn't said it yet * T laughs*

J: Please subscribe, everyone.

T: Please.

K: If we get more subscribers, we can do more things.

J: Right

Kami: Yes, please subscribe.

J: Subscribers will probably...

*sound cuts out*

On screen message :The sound cut out for some reason. We'll let you know what they said. For now, this episode has ended .

*1 - Not 100% sure I understood this story right.

*2 Translating quantum physics isn't my strong point.

*3 Im fairly sure i've missed some nuance here.

*4 Couldn't catch this.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #薫 #kaoru #TFOE

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aaronmaurer · 3 years

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TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

#tv #television

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charliejrogers · 3 years

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Soul (2020) - Review & Analysis

See? 2020 wasn’t so bad. We got TWO Taylor Swift albums AND two Pixar movies! I joke. 2020 still sucked. Still, it is pretty notable to be getting two Pixar films in the same year. Last time that happened was in 2015 when we got Inside Out (what I thought was a masterpiece) and The Good Dinosaur (and I will die on the hill that more than a visual stunner it was a good movie too!) This year we’ve already had what I consider the functional equivalent of The Good Dinosaur in Onward, a very good, but ultimately light adventure tale of brotherhood. That means my expectations for this film Soul, from Inside Out’s director Pete Docter (also the director of Monsters Inc. and Up) were unfairly high. This was to be the year’s Pixar masterpiece.

It certainly tries to be. It’ a heavier film than Onward, deciding to tackle more existential questions like... “is there a point to life?” and “how do we avoid living a meaningless life?” You know… the stuff you usually see in kids’ movies. And while I am a big proponent of Pixar and recognize it is unfair to call their movies “kids’ movies,” the magic of their films usually derives from their ability to appeal to adults and kids alike. Though I love Inside Out dearly, I know it wasn’t a huge hit with kids, so it will never remembered as fondly as say Wall-E, Finding Nemo, or the seminal Toy Story . I say this because… I’m not even sure who this film is meant for? I really cannot imagine a child enjoying this film, but I’m also not a child so I won’t hold that against the film.

As an adult, however, I only moderately enjoyed the film. What it definitely has going for it is the beauty of the animation. I think The Good Dinosaur was probably still prettier, but that’s only because nature is prettier than city streets. This movie is drop dead gorgeous with environments sometimes indistinguishable from photographs.

Furthermore, the world of this movie is really, really interesting and creative in a way only Pixar could make. Well… sort of. A lot of the film is just our world, New York City to be precise. The movie tells the story of struggling, middle-aged jazz pianist Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) whose day job as a junior high band teacher pays the bills but doesn’t feed his soul. He’s only there at the behest of his mother (Phylicia Rashad). If not for her, Joe would be out there every day auditioning for gigs, trying to make it big and (likely) starving from want of work (though certainly not for want of talent). She’s more elated when Joe gets news he’s being made a full-time faculty member than when he gets a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime gig

But as fate would have it, that gig was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, his chance at the big time, the chance to play alongside a modern day legend, jazz sax player Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett). He’s so excited when he gets the gig he can’t keep his eyes on traffic and inadvertently keeps getting himself into danger. Eventually, in his distraction, he actually falls down an open manhole. And he dies.

Yes. You read that correctly. Joe dies like 10 minutes into the movie. It’s really rather jarring tonally, and I feel like his death isn’t made dramatic at all. Something more impactful would make his inevitable resurrection all the more special. This is a studio that made me cry three times in 10 minutes when I first watched Up… they could have done something more here. Instead, the death just happens and we clip along to the next scene. This slightly rushed pacing continues throughout the film and is ultimately my biggest complaint with the movie. For something that tackles very big and heavy themes, it never really gives them time to breathe.

Anyway, the film then starts part 2 of 4. With Joe dead, we now see his soul alone in a vast black nothingness, standing on a bridge towards a bright light (what is referred to as the great beyond). Joe isn’t ready to die – he was just about to have his big break! So he manages to escape from the bridge to the Great Beyond into the world of the Great Before. It’s here that Pixar’s creativity gets to shine the most. The Great Before is the land in which personalities are born. Big Picasso-esque extradimensional figures (all inexplicably named Jerry and all with New Zealand accents) serve as guardians of the little, uniformly blue souls as they go through the “You Seminar” where they engage in various activities in order to become who they will eventually become. The Jerries usher the souls into various pavilions (including selflessness and insecurity as well as self-absorption!) in order to create all of our unique personalities. Apparently, the film sides hard on the nature side of the nature vs. nurture debate.

But the most important part of the seminar is pairing these newly developing souls with a recently deceased soul as a mentor. Together the two are supposed to work together until they find the developing soul’s “spark.” Once a soul gets their spark, they are ready to head to Earth and start life. Some people get their spark, i.e. their inspiration to live, from hearing about their mentor’s great life achievements in “the Hall of You” (mentors runs the gamut from Archimedes to Mother Teresa). Other souls get their spark from time spent in “the Hall of Everything,” where souls can try out various Earth hobbies and find what they will eventually love most in life (whether that’s painting, acting, or in Joe’s case jazz piano).

It’s a clever conceit, and I very much enjoyed my time spent in the colorful world of the Great Before. The movie gains its primary plot here when Joe (who isn’t supposed to be a mentor and should just be on his way to the Great Beyond) gets confused with a recently-deceased, world-renowned child psychologist and accordingly is assigned to be the mentor for a particularly difficult-to-inspire soul, referred to only by the number 22 (Tina Fey). Mentors have tried and failed to give 22 their spark for thousands of year. Ultimately, 22 just doesn’t get the hoopla about Earth and rather just enjoys the routine of their “non-life” in the Great Before. However, they and Joe make a deal. Since whenever a soul gets their spark, they get an Earth pass, if 22 gets their spark, they agree to give their pass to Joe, allowing him to return to his life and allowing themself to stay in the Great Before forever.

That plan doesn’t work. Instead the pair find some “shamans” in a desert within the Great Before who try to perform a resurrection ritual for Joe. This was probably the most creative aspect of this film’s plot. Shamans, mystics, or just serious meditators on Earth can actually have their souls transcend into the spiritual realm, allowing them to interacts with the other spirits who are permanently in the spiritual realm, like Joe and 22. I make special notice to include “serious meditators” because the main mystic/shaman is Moonwind (Graham Norton) who finds zen and therefore access to the spiritual realm by being a sign twirler on a street corner in NYC. But what I love about this aspect of the movie is its explanation that not just serious meditators can transcend to this realm, but actually any human can. Any time anyone gets “in the zone,” like when they get lost in playing music or basketball (or in my case doing physics problems), their soul can transcend up to the spiritual realm. The shamans are only in that they are aware of and can interact with that new reality; the rest of us are not.

However, in a fun, if a little too on-the-nose aside, the main job of the shamans is to return lost souls to Earth. Lost souls aren’t dead, they just belong to people who have become so addicted to something (e.g. greed) that they become soulless while living. The lone example the movie gives is of a hedge fund manager whose soul they manage to return and who subsequently quits his job. I’m sure there are nice hedge fund managers out there… so this joke fell flat for me even if I found the concept intriguing.

So the shamans perform their resurrection ritual. It goes predictably poorly as we’re only maybe 35 minutes into the movie and it can’t end yet. So we enter part 3 of the film where, because of the botched ritual, Joe’s soul inadvertently gets put into a cat and 22’s soul into Joe’s body. The rest of part 3 sees Joe and 22 try to put things back together. All the while, 22 by being in Joe’s body gets to finally experience real life on Earth (including their first experience of the human senses including tasting pizza). They find that they like Earth a whole heck of a lot, finding greatest pleasure in the smallest of things: a leaf falling from a tree, conversation among friends, a child’s hand being held. Plus, by being a naïve soul trapped in an old soul’s body, 22’s interactions with Joe’s family and friends (while Joe looks on in cat form) grants Joe an almost It’s A Wonderful Life type experience. 22 says and does things with Joe’s voice and body that he might never dream of saying, but the result of 22′s fresh take on life is the creation of new and genuine connections with those around him in ways he never had previously.

Of course, it’s not a kid’s movie without some sort of villain. While on Earth, Joe and 22 are being hunted by Terry, another extradimensional figure who serves as the Great Beyond’s accountant. Terry’s not so much a villain as he is a semi-comical plot device. While I appreciate that this movie eschews a true “villain,” I feel like Terry did little to add to this movie’s already very lacking sense of dramatic tension. I would have been perfectly content if they just added more horror and dread to Joe’s sense of loss of life.

Eventually, Terry manages to track down the pair and bring them back to the Great Before where, to everyone’s surprise, 22 somewhere along the way found her spark and now has a genuine Earth pass! She’s ready to live... and for once she’s excited to. That is, until Joe insists that 22 doesn’t deserve the Earth pass (i.e. to live) since they only gained a spark by being him and being in his body. In other words, 22 just got to copy Joe’s spark. So he takes 22′s Earth pass and rejoins life. He even realizes his dream and plays an absolutely outstanding show with Dorothea Williams!

And then feels empty. Earlier in the film, back in the Great Before, Joe got to see his “Hall of You,” that exhibit of his life, and he looking at his life so far decided that if he really stopped living that his life would be meaningless. He worked so hard for one thing for so long (to become a career pianist) and he never got it. Well, flash forward to the end of the movie, having now finally reached his dream, and Joe realizes it didn’t give him the payoff he thought it would. His life still feels empty. I appreciated the film’s quoting David Foster Wallace’s famous “This is water” speech even if it felt a bit hackneyed, and ultimately it serves as the movie’s message. Life isn’t about the big moments; it’s about what’s all around us. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” John Lennon once sange. Life is the stuff that made 22 so happy… the stuff that gave 22 her spark. She didn’t find a purpose or meaning when she was down on Earth that gave her a spark, she found a joy in falling leaves and conversations.

So with that realization, Joe returns to the Great Before, finds 22 and gives them their Earth pass back. Joe had in effect robbed 22 of the ability to live, and in the end undoes his harmful. But with only one Earth pass between the two of them, if 22 is to live, Joe must prepare for the Great Beyond. Now if you’re expecting to cry somewhere in this last part of the film… think again. As I said earlier, the film kinda clips along through these various story beats, not giving them time to be fully explored to the satisfaction of an adult thinker. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I didn’t feel much of a connection to either Joe or 22. so despite big moments of sacrifice and love, no tears came to my eyes. It’s not that either is unlikeable, but neither is particularly charming.

Some of it, I think, lies with some less than stellar voice acting on the part of Jamie Foxx. I don’t know. Some of his parts just felt phoned in? Tina Fey is adequate as 22, but not a stand-out. And I’m willing to concede too that the movie, the first in Pixar’s canon to focus on a Black character, may not have been made with me a white guy in his 20s as the target audience. Still, I’m not sure that race is particularly relevant to my dissatisfaction. I more think the film’s philosophy is a little jumbled, or maybe I just disagree with it. It seems to tells us that there’s no meaning to life and that the important part of life is enjoying the small things… but that’s a little naïve to say the least. Yes, trees are beautiful and music sounds good, but the movie shies away from the fact that life sucks for so many people. Like so many people. I’m sure poor and beaten down people will not feel comforted if you tell them that living is worth it because falling leaves are pretty.

But at the same time, I don’t want the movie to have argued that every person is “meant” to do something. In fact I think that idea is bullshit, and I like that the film denies this degree of determinism. If you can’t tell, I’m more on the nurture side of nature vs. nurture. But still by creating this world where souls are fully formed individuals prior to incarnation and to deprive them of a purpose feels… well soulless. Though, potentially bleaker, it feels more honest to just say we’re born as a blank slate, in a world devoid of meaning than to say that we are born fully formed into a world devoid of meaning. I would argue the later (and what the film argues) to reflect a darker, crueller world. Especially after watching a show like The Good Place which managed to so creatively and adeptly develop an entire moral philosophy that was relatively easy to understand and was largely agreeable... this feels lacking.

So yeah… I just couldn’t connect philosophically with this world, the film tackles bigger themes than its kid-friendly world seems fully capable of tackling, and despite beautiful visuals, it lags in the sound department, making it hard to really relate to these characters. I know it will find an audience because it’s a superbly made film set in a creative world with a unique premise, but that audience just isn’t me.

**3/4 (Two and three fourths out of four)

#soul #soul (2020)#jamie foxx #tina fey #pixar #disney+#pete docter

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joealwyndaily · 4 years

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Man About Town interview with Joe Alwyn

Fresh off the back of a star turn in Kasi Lemmons’ Harriet, we catch up with British superstar Joe Alwyn about getting into an evil mindset, playing the long-game in his career, and his upcoming role in Steven Knight’s A Christmas Carol.

words by Francesco Loy Bell

It’s an unnerving experience, having to ask an actor to fill you in on the ending of the film you’re supposed to be interviewing them about, but it’s a testament to Joe Alwyn’s charm and down-to-earth manner that he duly obliges, happily relaying the final ten minutes of Kasi Lemmons’ Harriet with an infectious enthusiasm only someone with genuine passion for a project could muster. I had been most of the way through Lemmons’ bold new offering, centred around American historical icon and slave-turned-abolitionist Harriet Tubman, when the fire alarm sounded, resulting in a hoard of shell-shocked journalists being quickly ushered out of the building, only to be told that we would not be able to watch the last 25 minutes of the film. Fast-forward 24 hours, and I can’t help but pause to reflect on the surreality of sitting across from the films horrifying antagonist as he casually explains his fate to me over coffee. More on that later, however.

Despite being the only actor in his immediate family, it’s fair to say Alwyn inherited some of the requisite DNA to pursue a career in film, his father, a documentary-maker and his mother, a therapist. Alwyn sees both as formative, instilling him with the “curiosity for looking into people’s lives, observing, and listening to stories” that had possessed him from an early age. “I always liked going to the cinema,” he explains, “sitting in big dark rooms, watching stories. It was kind of a way to disappear.” Though he cannot pinpoint the exact ‘light bulb’ moment in which he decided to become a professional actor, he does attribute seeing Ben Whishaw as Hamlet at the Old Vic when he was 12 or 13 as foundational, and “one of those moments that stick with you, where I thought: ‘I would really like to do that’.” That feeling soon blossomed, Alwyn taking numerous shows to the Edinburgh Fringe while at school and university, shows he can now jokingly admit “should not have been seen by anyone!”

Drama school naturally beckoned, the then-graduate enrolling himself into The Royal Central School of Speech and Drama, an experience he looks back on fondly, his eyes lighting up as he recalls some of the more eccentric aspects of his time there. “A lot of rolling around on the floor, a lot of tight black clothing. And lots of trees, I was a brilliant tree,” he laughs, before informing me, in sudden deadpan: “you’re also looking at a llama.”

Alwyn probably wouldn’t have expected such a swift re-entry into the dynamic absurdity of drama school so soon after leaving, but then he probably wouldn’t have expected to be working with director Yorgos Lanthimos only a couple of years later either. Having shot his first job — Ang Lee’s reverse-engineered war film Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk — just after he graduated in 2015, Alwyn was sent the script of a then still in development The Favourite soon afterwards. “It felt like a special script. I mean, at that point, I hadn’t read that many scripts. I still was” — he catches himself, as his eyes widen in momentary wonder — “well, I still am new to this. But yeah, it was just... such a good script. I knew of Yorgos; I knew of his films. And those two things kind of narrowed together: this twisted take on a genre that can be quite conventional and stuffy, and his very unique, singular mind. It was exciting.”

A skype session with Lanthimos soon followed (“we talked about everything probably apart from The Favourite” Alwyn laughs), and the rest is history, the actor landing the role of Samuel Masham, a young baron in the court of Olivia Colman’s Queen Ann. Though his turn in the film is punctuated by exaggerated physicality — the court dancing scene with Rachel Weisz a particularly memorable example — Alwyn tells me that it was only when he got on set that Lanthimos’ true, bonkers vision began to come to life.

“I didn’t know that it was going to become one of those moments,” he says of the dance scene and others like it. “Because in the script it just said ‘they dance’, or, ‘he chases her’.” He can’t help but smile when speaking about Lanthimos: “He is hilarious. And confusing. He doesn’t really say anything to you about conventional direction; there was no discussion of period, or etiquette, or character, or history — which I think we’d expected to a degree, just because of the nature of the film. We had two weeks of ridiculous exercises and rehearsals, where I’d be playing Olivia’s part, and Olivia would be playing Nick [Hoult]’s part, and you’d sing the lines, and you’re chasing each other, and... you don’t know what you’re doing, or why you’re doing it. And Yorgos doesn’t say anything. And then he’d get on set, and just kind of say ‘Mmm... louder, faster, quieter’.”

The profound respect Alwyn holds for Lanthimos is tangible — he responds “Yorgos again” in a flash when I ask him who he’d love to work with — and he largely credits the director’s vision for the success the film has since garnered. “He made it weird and wacky and bawdy and irreverent, and it’s just not what you’re used to seeing,” he gushes. One particular on-set tale gives some insight into the energetic nature of Lanthimos’ sets, Alwyn recollecting a close-shave experience during a flirtatious forest scene with Emma Stone which resulted in the actress being taken to hospital. “The woods scene; the rugby tackling scene. We — or I — got maybe a little too carried away in the rugby aspect of it, and Emma took a fall... which was completely my fault. She knocked herself on the root of a tree and hurt her head; the paramedics came, she had to go to hospital, and we had to stop filming for the day.” The sheer panic still momentary lingers on Alwyn’s face as he recounts the story: “She’d just won an Oscar [...] I was cowering in the corner thinking I’d just killed Emma Stone.”

Alwyn’s latest project, Harriet, is a stark departure from The Favourite, the actor trading in Masham’s comic fluidity for the chilling rigidity of Gideon Brodess, the vengeful and sickeningly violent son of Harriet’s owner. As aforementioned, it is difficult to reconcile the man sitting opposite me sipping his coffee with the evil he portrays on screen, and I’m curious as to Alwyn’s process for getting into such a poisonous mindset. “It’s tricky, because what he stands for is abhorrent, and obviously unrelatable,” he explains. “What him and his family did, and the idea of slavery, is repulsive. But I suppose with those kinds of characters you try to find some kind of humanity within them — which suits the time they were living in — to hold onto. And in Gideon’s case, it’s probably some kind of deep, repressed, buried feelings of love. Maybe love for Harriet? I don’t think he necessarily has a language for it, or even understands what it is. But he’s deeply tangled and confused inside. And you try and connect with those sides of him. But, in terms of who they are and what they stand for... it’s hard to find a way in. It’s near impossible.”

Alwyn gives a brutal performance in the film, deftly showcasing Gideon’s skin-crawling internal struggle between racist disgust, and Lima Syndrome-style lust of Harriet, and his antagonistic villainy is the perfect foil to fellow Brit Cynthia Erivo’s stunning performance as the eponymous emancipator, Alwyn extolling her “formidable” work ethic and on-screen generosity as hugely motivational in his preparation. The story of Harriet Tubman, though well known, is perhaps not as staple a piece of knowledge in the American psyche as her actions demand, and Alwyn hopes that the film will help to give her the wider historical credit she deserves, both in the States and beyond. “Growing up in the UK,” he explains, “I didn’t know who she was, really. I’d seen her name; I’d seen the older iconic images of her. But I didn’t know her story. You hope that films like this will make it more accessible, and bring people in to learn about her and the story of what she did, what she achieved.”

As the politics of division take hold around the world, there has been an intensified focus on the debate surrounding story-telling, and the potential impact or consequence a story can have in the current climate; Todd Phillips’ Joker, for example, has faced significant criticism for potentially giving encouragement to white terrorism and racism. In this vein, the telling of stories like Tubman’s seems more necessary than ever, and this is not lost on Alwyn. “If you go on Twitter and read down on the news, there’s endless stories of division and racism, bigotry, families being torn apart at the borders. Without putting too much on it, if there was someone who represents a fight in the face of that, Harriet Tubman seems to shine pretty strong. And you’d hope that someone like her would become a part of a global curriculum at school.” Alwyn is hopeful that giving figures like Tubman their due historical credit — at least in terms of film — will universalise her all-too-recent struggle, and help unite people in the face of societal partition.

Alwyn’s next project will see him return to London, albeit a dark, Dickensian version of the city, as he takes on the role of Bob Cratchit — Ebenezer Scrooge’s much-abused clerk — in Steven Knight’s upcoming rendition of A Christmas Carol. Though he cannot give too much away, he promises the miniseries will be much darker and truer to Dickens’ sordid portrayal of London than previous versions. “It’s very much more in that kind of gritty, darker, slightly twisted world,” he explains. “It’s not as sanitised, perhaps, as most other versions are [...] it really goes into Scrooge’s own pain and why he is the way he is in quite an unpleasant way. And definitely in a way that hasn’t been seen before.”

Alwyn speaks with a soft, magnetic enthusiasm that almost makes me forget that this is indeed an interview, and I am disappointed to look down at my dictaphone and discover that our allotted time slot is drawing to a close. Characteristically, however, he laughs off any time constraint, and I am afforded some final questions. At 28 years old, the actor is arguably slightly older than some of the other industry ‘up-and-comers’ one might bracket him alongside, and I ask whether he thinks the hyper-visibility of fame elicited by social media is in part to blame for an increasing tendency to link the validity of success with being in your early 20s. Alwyn, despite having an instagram page and being in a relationship with one of the biggest musicians in the world, is notably more private than many others in his position, and he quotes a piece of advice given to him by Ang Lee on set of Billy Lynn in his response.

“It’s not a sprint,” he decides, after some deliberation. “Everyone has different ways of going. I’m still at an early stage in my career. I left Central in 2015, the first film I was in came out at the end of 2016. It doesn’t feel too long ago. I don’t think there is any right way to do it, but [...] I do think it’s an interesting point about social media and the idea of instant visibility, an instant attainment... it’s a dangerous thing to play into. And something that would be dangerous to get hooked on because I don’t think it’s real. You know, social media is [a facade]. And if you buy into that being a reality — or that’s what you go after — it’s not healthy.”

I am struck by how refreshing Alwyn’s attitude to fame is, though by the end of our conversation, I am hardly surprised. This is someone for whom the work is clearly a far superior motivational factor than fame or recognition, and this passion for his craft is evident in every project he touches. Ang Lee was right, it is a marathon rather than a sprint, but Joe Alwyn certainly seems ahead of the curve as he enters what promises to be a vastly exciting new chapter in his career. I, for one, can’t wait to see what he does next.

#joe alwyn #interview #man about town #harriet #a christmas carol #the favourite

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lastsonlost · 4 years

Text

Women’s groups and prominent feminist figures have remained almost universally silent over a former staffer’s accusation of sexual misconduct against former Vice President Joe Biden—including those individuals and groups who came to express regret for how the Democratic Party handled similar accusations made against President Bill Clinton in the 1990s.

The collective non-response from mostly Democrat-aligned groups comes as potential female running mates struggle themselves in responding to the Biden allegation, which has the potential to upend his campaign against President Donald Trump, who has been accused of sexual misconduct by dozens of women in alleged incidents spanning decades. And it echoes the division among progressives when the #MeToo movement revived scrutiny of Clinton’s own alleged sexual misconduct.

The Daily Beast contacted 10 top national pro-women organizations for this story, including Emily’s List, Planned Parenthood Action Fund, NARAL Pro-Choice America, and the National Organization for Women. Most organizations did not respond to a detailed request for comment about the allegation by Tara Reade, a former staff assistant in Biden’s Senate office who has accused the former vice president of forcibly penetrating her with his fingers in the early 1990s. Others replied and did not provide a statement.

One prominent women’s political group cited a scheduling conflict and asked to be kept “in mind for other opportunities!” When pressed if the following day would work better, an associate said it would not, citing another scheduling conflict.

The near-total lack of acknowledgement from nearly a dozen leading pro-women organizations comes as new corroboration has emerged with respect to the allegation, which the Biden campaign has categorically denied. Neither the Biden campaign nor Reade responded to requests from The Daily Beast for comment Tuesday.

It also is taking place as prominent elected women in the Democratic Party rally to Biden’s side. On Tuesday, Hillary Clinton became the latest to offer her endorsement of Biden’s candidacy—a symbolic passing of the torch from one presidential candidate to another, but a moment that also served as a reminder of moments in recent party history when accusers were almost uniformly dismissed.

In 2017, attorney Patricia Ireland, who served as president of the National Organization for Women for the entirety of the Clinton administration, told The Washington Post that she wished she had “done more to be supportive” of Paula Jones, the former Arkansas state employee who alleges that Bill Clinton sexually harassed her during his time as governor.

“For Paula Jones, there were nice distinctions that people made: She didn’t work for him, he didn’t have the power to hire or fire her,” Ireland said at the time. “But that ignores the reality that he was a very powerful man.”

During the same period, feminist icon Gloria Steinem told The Guardian that she regretted some parts of her aggressive defense of Clinton during the Monica Lewinsky scandal, including a New York Times op-ed in which she dismissed accusations of sexual misconduct against the president. “Even if the allegations are true,” Steinem wrote in the 1998 op-ed, “the president is not guilty of sexual harassment. He is accused of having made a gross, dumb and reckless pass. President Clinton took ‘no’ for an answer.”

Steinem told the Guardian that “I wouldn’t write the same thing now because there’s probably more known about other women now. I’m not sure… What you write in one decade you don’t necessarily write in the next.”

But neither Ireland nor Steinem responded to a request for comment about Reade’s accusations against Biden. Bill Clinton has long denied Jones’ claims, settling a lawsuit she filed in 1998 for $850,000 with no apology or admission of wrongdoing.

Speaking to Fox News on Tuesday, Reade accused Hillary Clinton of “enabling a sexual predator.”

“Hillary Clinton has a history of enabling powerful men to cover up their sexual predatory behaviors and their inappropriate sexual misconduct,” Reade said in response to Clinton’s endorsement. “We don’t need that for this country. We don’t need that for our new generation coming up that wants institutional rape culture to change.”

Reade first accused Biden of digitally penetrating her in a podcast interview with journalist Katie Halper in March. Two other people, including Reade’s brother and a friend who has remained anonymous, told various outlets that Reade had told them about certain aspects of the alleged assault and her subsequent dismissal from Biden’s office over the years.

On Monday, Business Insider quoted a former neighbor of Reade’s recounting that the ex-staffer had disclosed details of the alleged assault when she lived next door to her in the mid-1990s. “This happened, and I know it did because I remember talking about it,” Lynda LaCasse, Reade’s former neighbor, told the outlet.

On April 24, Reade told The Intercept that her mother called into Larry King’s cable-news program to discuss “problems” her daughter experienced with a prominent lawmaker in 1993. In the episode, a caller from San Luis Obispo, California—where property records indicate Reade’s mother lived at the time—asked the host “what a staffer might do besides go to the press in Washington.”

“My daughter has just left there after working for a prominent senator and could not get through with her problems at all,” the caller said. “The only thing she could have done was go to the press, and she chose not to do it out of respect for him.”

Reade said on Twitter that it was her mother’s voice. “This is my mom. I miss her so much and her brave support of me.”

Biden’s defenders have argued that Reade’s story has changed over time—she previously had said only that she felt Biden had inappropriately touched her and made her feel uncomfortable. But sexual-assault victims’ advocates have noted that its common for victims to hold back on details as they recount their traumatic experiences.

Various aides to Biden have said they have no recollection of any assault incident happening. And Biden’s deputy campaign manager Kate Bedingfield said in a statement this month that “this absolutely did not happen,” and that “Vice President Biden has dedicated his public life to changing the culture and the laws around violence against women.” Bedingfield added: “He firmly believes that women have a right to be heard—and heard respectfully. Such claims should also be diligently reviewed by an independent press. What is clear about this claim: It is untrue.”

Over the past several days, the Biden campaign has signaled that it is paying additional attention to issues that disproportionately affect women. On Monday, Sen. Kamala Harris (D-CA), one of the contenders thought to be on Biden’s shortlist of potential running mates, was a guest on a virtual town hall with black leaders on coronavirus’ impact on women of color. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (D-MN), another possible running mate and former Biden rival, was also featured in a virtual forum addressing similar women’s focused issues late last week.

On Tuesday, in introducing Clinton during a virtual town hall, Biden declared she is “the woman who should be president of the United States right now.”

“I want to add my voice to the many who have endorsed you,” Clinton said during the event to discuss the impact of COVID-19 on women. “This is a moment where we need a leader, a president, like Joe Biden.” Biden, she said, has been “preparing for this moment his entire life.” The former vice president reciprocated by saying it was a “wonderful personal endorsement.”

On Monday, in offering her own backing, House Majority Leader Nancy Pelosi called him a “partner for progress in the White House.”

Four years ago, women’s groups threw their weight behind Clinton’s historic campaign as the Democratic Party’s first female nominee. But they remained largely out of the primary in 2020, when an unprecedented number of women campaigned with that similar goal in mind. Still, some groups haven’t been shy about criticizing parts of Biden’s past record relating to women.

In the early stages of Biden’s campaign, Planned Parenthood Action Fund took issue with a position he previously held around support for the Hyde Amendment, a provision that sought to restrict the use of federal money for abortion. In June 2019, the group’s executive director specifically called out Biden by name, reminding him that “the Democratic Party platform is crystal-clear” around repealing Hyde. Biden later denounced his support of the amendment.

Now, as Biden faces a sexual-assault allegation as the presumptive nominee, his past record and prominent female defenders are facing a new round of scrutiny. In particular, the decision to select a female running mate delighted many party activists and women’s rights advocates when Biden announced it in March, but is taking on a new form as the Reade allegation receives additional corroboration.

Already, potential nominees are having to answer questions about the allegation. The Daily Beast recently contacted the most prominent figures thought to be considered as possible contenders about Reade’s claim, including Harris, Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA), and former Georgia House Minority Leader Stacey Abrams.

Among the seven Democratic women’s offices reached, only Abrams commented, telling The Daily Beast that “women have the right to be heard” and adding, in part, that “nothing in the Times review suggests anything other than what I already knew: That Joe Biden is a man of highest integrity who will make all women proud as our next president.”

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bigherosixfeels · 4 years

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Okay kinda got a cute idea for a fic request. Considering there's been a lot going on in the world right now, how about Hiro helping Megan through a bad time in her life?

Aw, sounds good!

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Homesick

Fandom: Big Hero 6: The Series

Rating: K

Characters: Hiro Hamada and Megan Cruz

Word Count: 1,625

Summary: Megan misses her previous homes

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The first two weeks of summer vacation had already come and gone. Everyone in San Fransokyo was out and about, going anywhere they pleased. The Lucky Cat tended to do better than usual with business when school was out, resulting in Hiro lending his aunt an extra hand during work hours. His spare time went into night patrols alongside his friends, who were currently looking for work since graduating.

What was a bit concerning to the teen genius though was that he hadn’t heard much from his good friend Megan in awhile. He hadn’t seen her since the day Trina attempted to unleash her robot revolution on the city. They had briefly texted a couple times before school let out. Since then, Megan hadn’t contacted him once. It was unlike her. Megan was an extremely social person. Hiro figured by now, they would have hung out with more free time on their hands.

Hiro tried not to be too worried at first. Perhaps she was spending more time with her dad? Or she had plans with other friends?

After awhile, a thought had occurred to him that maybe she needed space after the whole ordeal with Trina. While Megan initially wanted to get more involved in superheroing since discovering Hiro’s identity, what happened that day had to have been overwhelming. Trina did capture her for a short time.

With that unsettling memory in mind, Hiro decided to reach out to her. A simple text asking how she was doing. A text that not only she didn’t respond to, but also never read. Was she okay? Was she purposely avoiding him?

After a couple of days with still no response and concerns rising, Hiro took a trolley that let him off in Megan’s neighborhood. He walked at a fast pace as he neared closer to the apartment complex. A wave of apprehension overcame his nerves as he entered the building, accelerating the closer he got to her home.

Not to his surprise, Chief Cruz answered the door. Although, what was surprising was the chief’s attitude towards Hiro. The strict, overprotective man who was always cautious when allowing Hiro to go up to Megan’s room was uncharacteristically welcoming. It may have had something to do with him having more of an appreciation for the young prodigy after rescuing his daughter. However, upon being told that Megan was in her room, he also made a remark about how she could probably use some company right now. There was a hint of sadness in his tone that Hiro chose not to comment on. It only made him worry more, all the more glad that he chose to stop by for a visit.

Hiro walked up the stairs that led to Megan’s room. His eyebrows knit at the closed door, wondering what she was up to. What was going on? Why did her father think she needed company? Had she been up in her room since school ended?

The teenager paused upon reaching Megan’s bedroom door. Hiro let out a quick, inaudible sigh. He hated the thought of his good friend not doing well. Megan was such a good person. She helped Hiro experience a more casual, teenage lifestyle and had his back in desperate times. If she’s been troubled, the least Hiro could do is help.

Reaching his arm out, Hiro gave two firm knocks on the door.

A loud, exasperated groan was made on the other side. “I’m fine, Dad!”

Hiro flinched. He hadn’t expected that to be the reaction. Clearly, her dad had been checking up on her multiple times. “M-Megan, it’s me!” Hiro responded. “Hiro.”

There was a short silence. “Hiro?”

Before Hiro had a chance to say anything else, he could hear Megan’s footsteps approaching closer. Soon enough, the door swung open. The aspiring journalist was in her usual shirt and jeans; her black jacket tucked away due to the summer heat gradually increasing.

However, the first thing Hiro noticed about her was the dark circles under her eyes. Along with that were widened eyes and a small frown. She raised an eyebrow as Hiro continued to stand in front of her. Hiro noticed this. What was she thinking about?

“What are you doing here?”

The soft, yet dejected tone in her voice made a frown form across Hiro’s face. She was usually so excited when he would come over. Something must really be bothering her.

“I came to see how you were doing.” Hiro sighed heavily. “We haven’t hung out in awhile and you never responded to the last text I sent you.” His frown deepened as he looked over her facial expression again. “Are you alright?”

Megan glanced down at the floor. She debated what to say and what to do. A lot was going on in her mind, but the last thing she wanted to do was push Hiro away. Especially since he stopped by just to check on her.

“Come in,” she suggested. She walked out of the doorway, holding her arm out as she invited Hiro into her room.

Hiro nodded before stepping inside her room. She led the way to her bed, which was neatly made with the exception of the comforter being wrinkled from where she had recently sat. Hiro took a seat at the end of her bed where Megan distanced herself in the middle.

For a minute, the teens sat in complete silence. They looked away from one another, both trying to find the right words to say. Eventually, Hiro looked Megan’s way first.

“Megan...i-if this is about what happened with Trina and the whole robot revolution, I am so sorry you got caught up in that mess. I should have been more--”

“What?” Megan cut him off. She shook her head at him. “Hiro, I’m not upset because of that.”

Hiro blinked in shock. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or more uneasy. On the one hand, it was reassuring to know that she hasn’t been too shaken up from that experience. Though now, he was somehow more anxious. What was causing her to be sad?

“O-okay...then what’s up?”

Megan’s face fell into a deeper frown. Not wanting her friend to see her so distraught, she faced away from him. She sighed, closing her eyes as she collected all her thoughts together.

“I’ve just been thinking about the places I used to live before my dad and I moved here,” Megan admitted. She gained the courage to look back over at Hiro again. “You know he’s been transferred before because of his job. So, every time that’s happened, I’ve been to different cities. Different schools. Different people…” Megan clutched onto her arms. “I have friends all around the state. Most of them I haven’t seen in months or years. I’ve been reaching out to them, but everyone has been travelling since summer break started. This sucks…”

With a frustrated huff, Megan brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She leaned her chin against her right knee, pursing her lips as her mind went back to thinking of all the friends she’s had to say goodbye to over the years.

Hiro was at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t relate to how Megan felt. He wanted to provide the comfort she clearly needed, but was unsure how. No wonder she was so upset. She was apart from a lot of her friends and it was making her lonesome. Moving from place to place made maintaining her friendships harder.

The young prodigy gave a sympathetic frown Megan’s way. He reached his hand out, gently placing it on her shoulder. The second Megan felt his touch, she looked over to her friend.

“I’m really sorry, Megan.” Hiro sighed. “I...I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

“It’s just a little frustrating,” Megan admitted. “I want to see them, but for a lot of reasons I can’t. You’re so lucky, Hiro. You’ve lived in San Fransokyo your whole life!”

Hiro nodded. “Yeah, that’s true…” He rubbed a hand at the back of his head. “But you’re lucky too. I mean, sure you’ve had to move a lot, but you’ve gotten to live in a lot of different places. That’s cool too! You love photography. I can only imagine all the photos you’ve taken of everywhere you’ve been so far.”

Megan cracked a tiny smile. “Yeah...I have actually.”

“See? I’m not much for travelling, but I still think it’s awesome that you’ve gone so many places. I’m sorry that all the moving has made it hard to stay in touch with your friends though.”

“It’s alright.” Megan shrugged. “I guess...it’s not all bad. If I hadn’t moved, I never would have met any of them in the first place. The good thing is that I’ve always met at least one really great person everywhere I’ve been.” She smiled widely at Hiro. “That includes you of course.”

Hiro chuckled. “Thanks. You know, I don’t exactly have friends my age or a more normal teenage lifestyle. So I’m glad we’re able to hang out when we can.”

“Me too.”

Hiro scooted over closer to Megan. Once their proximity was merely inches apart, the teenagers wrapped their arms around one another in a happy embrace. More than anything, Hiro was glad he had stopped by. He was able to cheer his friend up again and understand why she had been distant.

After a few seconds they pulled away. The smile that had managed to make its way on Megan’s face was far from fading.

Hiro got up from her bed. “How about we go to Joe’s Diner? It’s on me this time.”

Megan giggled, standing up to follow him. “You’re the best. That sounds great.”

---

Yay, I finally got a request done! This was a cute one to do. Hiro and Megan have such an underrated friendship. I like to headcanon that since Chief Cruz is a police chief/officer, they’ve had to move around a lot with his job. Anyway, thank you so much for the request @blxndeichiban! I hope you enjoyed it! :D

#fanfiction #hiro #hiro hamada #megan cruz #big hero 6: the series #bh6: the series #big hero 6 #bh6 #big hero 6 fanfiction #bh6 fanfiction #big hero 6 fanfic #bh6 fanfic #blxndeichiban

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

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.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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daydreams-and-shortattentionspan · 5 years

Text

Run For Your Money

A/N: I know I was supposed to post this last week, I just didn’t know what exact to write. I’m so sorry. But imma make it up to y’all.

Pairings: Tony Stark x (Y/N) Rhodes (platonic friendship), James Rhodes x Black Reader (Siblings)

Warnings: Cursing(?), Unwanted Touching

Words: 1.5k

_______________________________________________

“Ugh if I look at another word on this screen I think my eyeballs are gonna fall out,” you said in mock despair. Hoping to get some type of reaction you turn around and find Tony still in his own little world working on yet another project. You groan loudly with actual despair; you had been using the archives -that would be at the library in physical form, but are all at your fingertips thanks to Tony having basically everything ever written in digital form- for hours to write your thesis for your masters and honestly a sweet, slow painful death would have been more fun than writing this damned thing. Tony allowed you to use whatever you needed and you could have easily gone to the living room to write all this but you had told him you’d much rather sit in his lab with him because you liked the company and you secretly enjoyed his taste in music. Thus your current predicament of tired eyes, aching back, and now growling stomach.

“Tony,” you called hoping to get his attention, to no avail; you get nothing in response.

“Tony!” you yelled a little louder. ‘He’s gotta be able to hear that’ you thought. Yet again… No response, grabbing your pen from the small desk behind you and flinging it at him and successfully hitting him in the head, he looks at the ceiling in confusion.

“Is there a leak?” he had questioned still staring at the ceiling and rubbing the back of his head.

“No you idiot, it was me. I’m hungry,” you said dryly. He said nothing at first, he looked to be thinking,“Burgers?” he had simply asked pointing the screw driver he was holding at you.

“Pizza.” you answered.

“Delivery?” he had asked starting to ask JARVIS to get food delivered.

“No!” you had groaned,“I need fresh air and so do you.”

He opened his mouth to deny it, before he could start you cut him off,“When was the last time you were outside and there wasn’t something threatening our planet?” Your question caused him to immediately close his mouth, you smirked knowingly, starting to put your shoes - that you had kicked off at some point to get comfortable and focus more- on.

“C’mon, I know a good spot not that far from here.” you said as you stood.

“I guess I could get some ‘fresh air’,” he said while using air quotes,” not like that exists in New York,” He had murmured that last part but you had heard; you rolled your eyes playfully,“JARVIS needs this new update I just finished.”

Jarvis replied instantly “Thank you, Sir.”

“Yeah, take the night off buddy.” He replied nonchalantly.

“See? This is a sign for you to get your ass out of here for a while,” you had playfully teased him and began your trek up the stairs and to the elevators; Tony close behind you, grabbing whatever shoes were near the elevator doors slipping them on with no socks. ‘White people,’ you had thought, rolling your eyes playfully.

“I know, right?” he mocked in fake disgust, genuine smile plastered on his face, indicating you did not say that in your head. It was good to see him actually happy after all the things he’d been through recently. It was like he was a danger magnet. While you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the zip up hoodie he was throwing your way and that had landed on your face. Taking it off in confusion you glanced at the window behind you and noticed that it was dark outside. Raising your eyebrows in confusion, you graciously put the jacket on knowing it would be cold out there. As soon as you slipped your arm in the final sleeve, the elevator dinged; indicating the it had arrived and you both stepped inside.

“So how’s the thesis going Mini Rhodey?” he asked while pressed the button commanding the elevator to head towards the ground floor thus beginning your descent.

“Ugh I don’t even wanna talk about that right now. And don’t call me that, I hate that nickname,” you groaned feigning mock despair again.

“What? Why? Rhodey loves that nickname!”

“Yeah because he’s older! And only by a couple years!”

“And?”

“And it makes him sound like my dad.” you replied in mock disgust.

“Or you’re being dramatic.”

“Aren’t I always?” you replied striking a silly pose. The elevator dinged once again and the doors opened immediately. You both stepped out and made your way out the building; Tony pulling on his hood to avoid any questions about the Avengers or Iron Man by anyone waiting outside the building. Successfully dodging that non-existent bullet, you began your quest for food.

“How’s Pepper?” You had asked trying to make the trip shorter by filling it with conversation and life updates.

“She’s good, running a huge company rather successfully,” he replied, full of pride over her.

“Mhmm, like some I know should have been doing,” you replied boldly, only playing around and bringing his ego down only slightly. He faked a painful expression while holding his heart.

“Ouch (Y/N), just ouch,” he said, you simply shrugged and raised your hands in fake surrender.

“Where is this place any way?” he said looking at his surroundings in wonder, like he had never seen this place before walking slowly.

“We are literally right around the corner, and it’s faster and cheaper than getting delivery, rich boy.” you replied grabbing his hand and practically dragging him to the restaurant.

Just as you said, about ten more minutes of walking and you had arrived at Joe’s Pizza. You two had entered the establishment and began to get warm from all the people inside. You had told Tony to find a place for you two to sit while you got the food. Quickly grabbing your food and drinks, you found your way to Tony and began to chow down.

“So you wanna talk about that masters yet?” he had asked in between bites of his pizza. You sighed and simply shook your head, mouth full of food.

“You’re gonna have to talk about it at some point.”

“Yeah I know,”sighing sadly again,” It’s just so nerve wracking and I need a distraction from it before I die of stress,” you said, semi-jokingly to hide your stress; picking at a piece of cheese off the side of your pizza. Tony had looked at you with sad and understanding eyes.

“Well,” you looked up at him,” This is the most delicious distraction I’ve had,” he said before taking a comically huge bite of his pizza, stuffing his face. You chuckled at his successful attempt at making you feel better.

You both stayed there a few minutes longer after having finished. Joking about anything and everything you possibly could, holding your stomach from laughing so hard. This is exactly what you needed; you felt refreshed and ready to head back to more hours of sitting on your ass and reading millions of words. You both felt it was time to head back so you grabbed your belongings and trash and made your way back.

You were so close to the building, finally opening up about what your thesis was about; totally lost in the conversation, when you suddenly felt a hand swat your ass, stopping you completely. Swinging around you saw a man looking at you with an evil like in his eyes and a disgusting smirk plastered on his face, almost looking proud of what he had done.

“What?” Tony had asked looking back.

“That dick just smacked my ass!” you had replied angrily.

“Hey asshole!” he had stopped and turned completely around at the sound of Tony’s voice. Smirk still in place, he slowly started making his way back to where you and Tony stood on the busy sidewalk.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you better apologize before you get your ass handed to you,”yo said, trying to hold back the rage burning in your chest.

“And who’s gonna hand it to me?” the man replied smugly.

“Me,” Tony said, taking off his hoodie. You looked at him in confusion, wondering how the hell he was gonna fight this huge Vin Diesel wannabe with his own strength or without his suit seeing as JARVIS was most likely still updating.

“Oh yeah Iron Man? Bring it then,” almost immediately, Tony punched the man square in the jaw, taking him by surprise. Making the man angry, he charged toward Tony and punched him in the nose, causing Tony to fall flat on his ass. The big man laughed in victory, angering you further, causing you to walk up to him and punch him right in his stomach causing him to double over in pain. You grabbed the back of his head and bashed it against your knee. He howled in pain. You stepped back trying to see what his next move was. He stood, face cover in blood, he had started to make his way over to you somewhat stumbling. You dropped and swept your leg beneath him knocking the man over swiftly onto his back. You stepped over his body and punched the man directly in the nose with all the strength, knocking the man unconscious surely from the unbearable pain. You adjusted the hoodie and turned too see Tony -eyes wide and mouth agape- looking like a fish out of water. You extended your hand to help him up, he took it slowly getting up; still looking at you in awe. You ignored the crowd that had surrounded you that you figured at some point wanted to see the spectacle but you hadn’t noticed. You pushed your way through, Tony close behind still stunned from the events that had just occurred. You both walked into the building and directly into the elevator that was waiting for you.

“How the hell did you do that??” he questioned you immediately.

“Boy, do you not know who my brother is? Do you not know I train with Nat some weekends?” you replied nonchalantly.

“Well,” he said, eyebrows raised,”you’re about to give Romanoff and Rhodey a run for their money.”

_______________________________________________

Taglist: @oceanscorazon @snazzyjazzytrash

#tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark x black!reader #tony x reader #tony x black!reader #black!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony x y/n #tony stark fic #tony stark fiction #tony stark fan fiction

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gothamdetected-a · 4 years

Text

multiverse.

i know what you’re thinking. sim are you absolutely fucking insane, don’t even TRY to tackle this one. you’re right i am insane. and yes i am still going to try and tackle a meta about DC multiverses HOWEVER, to give myself on shred of sanity on this treacherous journey, i will say that this is mainly going to be about the multiverse from a bruce perspective. this ride is a batman focused train i’m afraid. also i want to state that this is by no means a perfect explanation – i’m a) trying to keep it simple and b) still am lost on parts of the timeline myself so. its what i can offer.

ok so, originally NCP, or the national comics publication (who will one day become DC), wrote their golden age heroes on an earth now designated as earth-2. in the 30s, just before the war, comic books absolutely exploded as a media format, and a bunch of companies all jumped the gun on creating superheroes. many of DCs most endearing and recognisable heroes were created all the way back then, however many of them also are not quite who you will recognise as the character today. hal jordan wasn’t green lantern, but was instead a man called alan scott, jay garrick was the flash instead of barry allen etc etc. don’t worry though! batman is still batman, and has been bruce wayne since 1939. earth-2 batman, as he will come to be known, is a bright kind of guy found on technicolour pages with a cute lil robin by his side – there is a reason for this. the war. literally NCP said we cant be sending out dark and gritty comics to people dying in trenches so time to make it colourful and faintly ridiculous, and bruce wayne is a surprisingly optimistic guy for a man who watched his parents be slaughtered in front of him.

of course, by the 60s, NCP (who are also sort of known as NPP and really known by your average joe as superman-dc, based on their most successful comic runs) had realised their timelines were getting a bit squiggly for their golden age heroes, and most of them had been replaced out by their silver age counterparts anyway. so between 1961 and 1963, NCP start creating another “earth”, officially designated earth-1, which would become their main planet for all kinds of superhero shenanigans. the justice society of america becomes the justice league of america, and when you think of batman, you’re probably thinking of earth-1 batman. at least pre crisis. and, once they get taste for building whole new earths, we also get earth-3 (1964), or “opposite world”, where the good guys are bad guys, and batman is owlman and instead of the jla we have the crime syndicate of america.

so sim, what other earths did dc come up with? well, i literally refuse to list them all because it was a multiverse and they did not slow down, but the ones that are most important to me are earth-5 where the only hero to live on this planet is bruce wayne/batman, and earth-89 where lois marries bruce instead of clark ahAHAHHAA. but i can tell you that pre-crisis there are 91 designated earths, and basically it could have gone on forever. there was an earth-c minus, earth-124.1, an earth where everyone was reptiles, honestly it was a MESS. and therein lies the problem.

now i’ve just used the term “pre-crisis”. what’s that, sim? maybe you’re not very familiar with comics, or with the recent dctv version of said comics, and so i will endeavour to explain one of the most brain numbing storylines that spans DC. also known as a retcon. see all these earths with their own histories and heroes and well everything really was becoming very inconvenient and meant a lot of world jumping and who can interact with who and everything was getting like spaghetti because they couldn’t calm down on the earth-building. so DC (who are officially DC at this point, 1977 babeyy), specifically a guy called marv wolfman (coolest name ever) who was sick of so many earths, comes up with the bright idea that will later form into a comic run called crisis on infinite earths (1985-1986). it was a serious crossover event, really considered by many to be the first of its kind. it sold extremely well, boosting dc’s flagging sales against it’s biggest rival, marvel. and as for the plot, it’s a bit convoluted but essentially some bloke turns up and starts to destroy all these worlds, and it becomes a race between the heroes and villains as to who can save/conquer the remaining earths that are left. although there are crises before and after this specific run, pre-crisis basically always refers to this particular crisis event, as it really shaped DC for the next 30 years.

for a while the retcon does an okay job of keeping the number of earths low. there’s still some earths that are considered non-continuous floating around, but mainly there’s just earth-1, which is now a merger of the most important “earths” that existed pre-crisis, and a way for all of DCs heroes to now be in one place and interact with each other. other earths at this point include;

earth-23 (1986) – a small pocket dimension

earth-17 (1990) – we don’t talk about this. honestly spare yourself and. don’t look. its horrific.

earth-27 (1990) – a historically divergent planet with a hero actually called vegetable man.

earth-85 (1987) – a hodgepodge of post-crisis characters live here, chillin

earth-988 (1990) – superboy is the only hero in this universe

the antimatter universe – all of pre-crisis’ earth-3 villains, including owlman, get shoved here for later use when dc need a couple of villains to come back.

and for a while all is well. then comes DC elseworlds (1989). which. you know. i love. it gave me victorian batman. pirate batman. caveman batman. vampire batman. frankenstein batman. terrorist batman fighting against russian!superman. they even gave me marvel crossovers, with captain america meeting batman. it was a glorious time. technically elseworlds is not considered canon, ran outside of canon as a way for writers to explore those wacky kind of worlds lost to the crisis, which is dumb because some of the plot lines are both hilarious and incredible. but the numbers started to get ridiculous again. most elseworlds are named after the year that the plot takes place in, so we get earth-1889, earth-1938 etc, but even more of them just seem to have random designations. i think by the time they reached earth-5050 they sort of knew that theyd fucked up again. we’ve had zero hour, we’ve got hypertime and kingdom come, and besides, its been a while since they had a good crossover, so by the time 2005 rolls around its time for crisis pt 2 (because dc love to use the word crisis for crossovers) or as it’s officially known infinite crisis. infinite crisis has an even more confusing plot involving a bunch of slightly nuts versions of characters escaping a pocket dimension, earths being created and then merged, and a rogue ai which batman made and then has to destroy because his own creation becomes too powerful etc etc. the only good thing to come out of it was earth-0, or bizarro world, because bizarro & batzarro are my babies. don’t worry though, this new set of earths won’t last long either, as in 2008 DC conclude their trilogy of crises with final crisis that featured one of the most important events in batman’s history – darkseid “killing” him. yes the quotations are important. i’ll leave you to infer what they mean.

so 3 crises later and everything is still just as messy as they’ve ever been and there’s 60 years worth of comic history being tangled about, and marvel had already established a very successful reboot in 2000, and anything marvel do, we can do better, so DC do their first, full and proper reboot. unlike retcons before it, which is where they retroactively try to fix what people already know and simplify timelines & earths, this is like someone shaking the etch-a-sketch and starting fresh. back in infinite crisis an arbitrary number was assigned to how many “earths” there could be – 52. and so in 2011, DC go hey that’s neat and create what becomes known as the new- or nu-52. heroes are given shiny new backstories, everything is streamlined and wonderful, sales rise, DC has a clean slate to build off again.

ha.

yeah that doesn’t happen.

this reboot, also known as flashpoint, due to it being spawned from another big ol’ crossover of the same name, shows barry allen trapped in an alternate universe where everything is not quite right – his mother is alive, superman is nowhere to be found and he doesn’t have his powers. worst of all thomas wayne is batman. yeah, batman’s dad is batman. thanks DC, i hate it. reverse-flash has tried to change history and stop the jla from ever being formed – le gasp. barry goes to fix it, merges three universes together – earth-0, which isn’t a bizarro world but now the “main" earth, also called new earth or prime earth (DC), earth-13 (vertigo) and earth-50 (wildstorm), but also causes 10 years to be “lost” to these characters. there are now 52 brand spanking new earths, each sitting in their own universe as part of the multiverse. no one remembers anything except barry. even for a reboot and convergence of DC’s franchises, it’s messy as fuck. and it goes to shit very very quickly. people don’t really like n-52. DC have cancelled everything, certain characters such as cassandra cain-wayne are fucking ERASED from existence, no one likes the new costume designs, its an absolute shit show and the plots get very confusing very quickly.

so what do DC do?

they reboot again. sigh.

only 5 years after the mess of nu-52, they produce DC rebirth, a new relaunch of all their famous runs. brainiac does some magic and collects a bunch of worlds together and magically we’re all going to forget the last 5 years of comic hell. it is a reboot to retcon flashpoint as though that never happened. yes, DC are actually retconning their own reboots. talk about sweeping it under the carpet. technically “rebirth” only ran for a year as a promotional thing for the reboot, before joining with the larger, now-singular DC universe, however everyone still calls it rebirth because if we don’t give these things names it will get even more fucking confusing than it already is. rebirth also still has 52 universes making up the DC multiverse, just to make things even more simple and easy to understand (DC what is it with 52. why 52.) although lots of the earths in this multiverse have been re-designated – eg. pre-crisis earth-31 was home to an aged batman who fakes his death to go train a bunch of new vigilantes (the dark knight returns), and now 31 is an apocalyptic wasteland or some shite. a lot of these earths were re-designated during the flashpoint/nu-52 era, and even though rebirth was supposed to erase that, DC have decided never mind we’ll keep it. there’s also 7 mysteriously undesignated earths – ooh spooky, they definitely won’t feature in the next major crossover. also for a multiverse with 52 universes, they sure do have more than 52 : there’s the microverse, a bunch of universes collectively called “the sphere of the gods” where apokalips and like, literal heaven & hell exist, an innerverse???, dreamworld, limbo, DC are taking the piss they only said there were 52 earths but that means they can make as many other shitty dimensions and pocket-universes as they please apparently. don’t even get me started on the source wall. for the most part the writers just. don’t acknowledge this and stick to the main prime earth. for the most part. thanks for throwing thomas wayne as batman back into the mix, rebirth.

so that’s the last of it, right sim? eh, almost. it should have been the last of it, really. and then geoff johns couldn't keep his mouth shut and produced possibly the worst comic in recent history, if not ever, doomsday clock. now doomsday clock is a nightmare for an impossibly long list of reasons that i won’t get into here because this isn’t a rant about why i think doomsday clock is the worst thing to ever happen to dc (although that’s a catchy title i should use that some day) - no, the reason i bring up doomsday clock is because. oh my god even saying this makes me sad. doomsday clock proves that the pre-crisis universes still exist and are still out there. somewhere. canonically. sim why is that sad i thought you liked everything pre-52. it’s sad because it means at any point now, DC could bring them back, ruin their own legacy, make everything even more confusing than it already is. i love pre-52 stuff but you gotta leave it alone. currently doomsday clock has only established that these universes exist as a way to honour every era of superman, because DC didn’t want to completly erase some of the incredible work and storylines put into him as a character. fine, fair enough. but it does leave the possibility that they will try and return to them too. comic book writers love doing funky story lines like that. they think they need to write something that’s never been done before and instead of coming up with something actually unique, they just poke around in the multiverse WHICH IS HOW WE ENDED UP WITH THIS AS A PROBLEM IN THE FIRST PLACE.

ahem.

hopefully this helped clarify some stuff for people, especially those folks who aren’t big comic fans/expereience dc through the DCEU or DCTV, when encountering rpers who say they base their characterisation off of, for example pre-n52/flashpoint comics, like myself.

oh, and thank you for coming to my ted sim talk.

#i dont know if i can put this as a meta #its just me ranting again #hm #\system\directory\hidden.txt ›› META #long post /

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