green error

tell your friends there's a hunter on the streets.

[emrldrchr]

oftedkord:

“I KNOW, but you’re from farther into the future than me.” Ted chuckles as he waves a finger in the air for a vague gesture. He can’t imagine what that must have been like, what Oliver has seen. “You without a bow? You must feel naked.” He teases as he grabs a notepad to start making notes, rough sketches too. “I can help you with that, and you can be there while I’m making it if you want to make sure it comes out right.”

Ollie scoffed. “Yeah, it’s like going commando,” he replied. “No one can tell, but underneath this cool exterior, I’m buck-ass naked.” Ollie nodded. “Yeah, I just need to get the supplies and I should be able to get most of it down. I have a guy though, in the future, who makes the pieces for me and I usually just put it together. I’m not usually making this stuff from scratch, especially since I don’t use a wood bow anymore.”

[emrldrchr]

Oliver didn’t know many of the people in the mansion—mostly, the people he was acquainted with were people who had been on the Justice League with him. He didn’t really know what the rules were around here—who to trust. And that was why, when the woman approached the table, he casually shoved all the sketches for his new bow under a book so that they wouldn’t be in plain view, instead opening the book to a random page and starting to skim through it. 

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[emrldrchr]

Oliver was relieved, if he was being honest, to see more people who had been a part of the Justice League wandering the halls of the mansion. In the future, he had gone for years without them, but they were all right here, perfectly safe. He had to keep reminding himself of that—the people he cared about, the ones he hadn’t seen for years, they were safe in 1973. He was so used to people dying that he didn’t even think about the fact that not all of his friends were dead. He jogged up to Victor to clap a hand on his shoulder. “Jesus, Vic, you get an upgrade? You’re looking good,” he joked lightly.

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[emrldrchr]

Ollie knew better than to expect any forgiveness or kindness from Roy’s friends. He knew exactly how Roy saw him, and he doubted that his friends would see him any differently. Oliver was trying—at least, he wanted to try. Emotions, while he had a lot of them, weren’t easily expressed. Hell, even with Dinah, he found himself at a loss for words a lot of the time. He didn’t know how to say what he really felt and he didn’t know how he was supposed to gain forgiveness from anyone who saw him as the monster who had thrown Roy out when Roy needed him. And, frankly, Oliver wasn’t sure if he deserved that forgiveness. He looked up at Dick, pausing for a moment before closing the notebook where he was sketching out designs for his new bow and writing out measurements. “I already talked to Roy. If that’s what you’re going to ask.”

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[emrldrchr]

If Oliver knew anything, it was that training, at least, would help him feel better. He didn’t have his actual bow ready yet, but he had managed to craft something quick out of some lumber he had bought at the hardware store downtown—it was kind of crude, but it reminded him of his roots as an archer. On the island, he didn’t have anything but raw materials. He had to make do with what he had. He tested the weight of it in one hand before he notched one of 3 arrows he had made, aiming at a tree almost too far in the distance for him to see properly. He let it fly—the arrow sank with surprising accuracy into the edge of the tree trunk, but it wasn’t good enough for Ollie, who had been aiming for the middle. He scoffed at himself, shaking his head and looking down at his slightly trembling hands. He had to get his crippling paranoia under control.

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[emrldrchr]

Oliver didn’t know what it was, but there was some sort of undeniable force pulling him towards the other woman. He blinked a few times at her, confused as the seeds of infatuation started to get planted in his mind. He blinked a few more times. Oliver never felt like this with anyone—except maybe Dinah, when they had first met, but even then, the beginning infatuation had given way to something deeper—and so he didn’t know what he was experiencing. He blinked again. “Who are you?”

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[emrldrchr]

Ollie never thought that talking to a literal tree would be so therapeutic, but before he realized what he was doing, he was spilling his whole life story to the tiny plant. “And, you know, I think it’s because I didn’t grow up with a mom and dad that I became a little shit, you know? I had too much money so I could do whatever I wanted, and I never had my parents around to tell me, like, hey, don’t be an asshole.” He turned and looked at Groot, blinking a couple of times. “Give me a sign that you understand this.” He paused. “Actually, it doesn’t really matter. You’re already a better shrink than my actual shrink.”

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[emrldrchr]

Ollie was definitely familiar with Enchantress—the Justice League and the Suicide Squad had definitely gone head to head a few times, and he knew that underestimating the ancient being, even if she was housed in a kind young woman, would be deadly. However, Ollie also knew that this battle was on all of them to fight—hero or villain—and he wasn’t going to just let differences that might have been life or death in the future stand in the way of that. So, he was sitting at a table nearby, trying not to stare at her—but he did end up just staring at her over his book.

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[emrldrchr]

Ollie didn’t know how many of the kids he had once mentored had ended up back in 1973. He hoped it was all of them—he hoped that they were all safe in the past rather than trapped in the future—or worse, dead in the future. His heart was fragile under a tough exterior. He didn’t know what he would do if any of them—even if they rightfully hated him—got hurt in all of this. That was why he was relieved to see Cissie. Even if she wasn’t technically someone he had mentored, he felt some measure of responsibility for her—the same measure of responsibility he felt for pretty much all archers he met. “So, you’ve been hanging out here with Freddie Mercury and Richard Nixon, huh?”

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[emrldrchr]

ryhrpr:

“surprised you even care.” he bared a shrug, glancing away from oliver once more as his words were somewhat mumbled. roy wanted to question oliver further, what exactly he meant by that, but considering the indignant he currently felt towards the older man, for how he treated him in the past and how little he was there for him when he needed him most, he didn’t think there was a reason to dig any deeper. he looked back at ollie, with a slight snort. “and it’s not just the goatee doing it this time.” though there was a hint of a smile reaching his lips, roy heaved a sigh, leaning back against the wall as he faced forward. “so, did we win?”

oliver felt a sort of deep sting, somewhere in his chest, at roy’s words. he tried to seem unfazed by them—he knew that no matter what he said, roy was going to hear what he wanted to hear. he didn’t have the energy to fight with him anymore. “well, i do care,” he said simply before he closed his mouth tightly, pressing his lips together and biting the inside of his cheek to keep him from saying anything more. it was this big mouth of his that had ruined their relationship. he wasn’t going to let it get ruined again just because he hadn’t learned how to keep his trap shut. oliver scoffed. “the goatee is sticking around,” he replied with just a hint of a smile on his lips. he leaned back against the opposite wall, folding his arms over his chest. he didn’t see the point in sugarcoating anything. “no. obviously not.”

[emrldrchr]

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[emrldrchr]

unravel.

[emrldrchr]

cryofcanary:

Dinah is subconsciously leaning into the touch against her face, wanting needing to feel close to him again after months of going without him. Perhaps it wasn’t the best, that the second he showed up every annoyance that had been chewing away at her the last couple of months finally dissipated. But the space he held in her heart will always severely outweigh any anger or frustration she harbored for him, and that’s made obvious by the way her arms consume him, holding him impossibly close as they meet each other’s gaze for the first time in what felt like forever. Her own hand keeps against his face, it was a nice reminder that this wasn’t the many fever dreams she’s experienced upon coming to ‘73. He was really there. No matter what it was he’d been apologizing for, in this moment Dinah just wanted to hold him, make sure he was okay, and talk about it later. They’ve been through so much together that at this point she’s sure they could work their way through whatever is thrown at them. Though the darkness that invaded what were once bright eyes has her thinking this time may be different. 

Her hand rests gently against the surface of his back, rubbing soothing circles with her fingertips as a silence settled between them for a few beats. She still had no idea what he was referring to, or what had him so speechless and unable to speak to her. Whatever it was, Dinah wanted it gone. He was her Ollie but he was different. He’d seen and dealt with things - bad things, as far as she could tell. Her forehead is grazing the line of his jaw as she settles her head on his shoulder. “What went to shit?” Her brows are furrowed in curiosity, desperately wishing she knew what had gotten him to this point. So she could put an end to it. And come hell or high water, she will do everything in her power to do just that. 

Part of why Oliver loved Dinah so much was because of that open heart she had. She found it in herself to care for Ollie, who was so deeply flawed, who didn’t know how to behave, who didn’t know how to be, especially not in a world where he was loved so unconditionally and he knew he didn’t deserve it. Ollie had made too many messes. He had been too reckless. He had treated the people he was supposed to love with contempt, he had pushed them away when he should have drawn them close. Everyone in his life he had ever been close with, they had all been pushed away at some point or another because Ollie had never learned how to let them in completely. He felt too much—he felt it too deeply. Oliver was an emotional man, and the fact that so much of himself could hinge on these feelings he had for other people had terrified him. 

The only time he hadn’t been scared by his own heart was with Dinah. She reminded him that everything that he had considered a flaw, everything that would have gotten him killed on those years alone on the island weren’t necessarily a bad thing. When he loved her, it was easy. Things were simpler. If he gave into that emotion, he would feel better—he always did. She always made him feel better. Oliver knew that if he was going to be smart about any of this, he should just let himself love her again, just kiss her and pretend that the past few years hadn’t happened. Pretend that he hadn’t abandoned her when he should have been pulling her close. Oliver had stupidly thought that sending her back would keep her safe, that staying in the future and being a martyr while she was safely sent to 1973 was the right thing to do. 

God, he was such an idiot. 

Oliver shook his head. “Everything, I—” He paused, cutting himself off. “After I sent you back, I...” He swallowed thickly. “I was leading a rebellion, and I...I became a fugitive. Globally wanted.” He pressed his lips together. “No matter where I went, they always found me, and no matter who I was with, they...” He licked his lips before pressing them together. He took a few deep breaths though his nose, trying to calm down. “People died for me, Dinah. For me.” He looked up at her, something tired in his face that seemed to sink deep into his words—an exhaustion that couldn’t be named. “They died because they were protecting me, because I was trying to represent something. A better world. And—God, I was so stupid, and I couldn’t stay there, and they died for nothing.”

[emrldrchr]

oftedkord:

“WOAH YOU’RE FROM THE FUTURE.” Ted says softly, and although he has so many questions he knows better than to ask more than he should. “Well you’re here now, and hopefully we can change home to be worth going back to.” He’s silent for a moment, but he smiles at his friend. “If you need anything, I can make it for you.”

“So are you! I’m just...even more in the future,” Ollie said, shaking his head. “I should have just come back years before I did, it would have made my life so much easier,” he added with a huff of laughter. He paused before nodding. “Yeah, I might take you up on that.” Ollie leaned against the table.”My bow broke in transit. I need a new one, and I don’t know where to get the stuff I need.”

[emrldrchr]

oftedkord:

“REALLY? When did you come from?” The question so oddly worded, and Ted never expected that he would have to ask someone that so often. He takes a good look at his friend, as if he’s checking to see if he was okay. “I’ve done okay, the place is still standing isn’t it?” He teases with a grin. “How are you adjusting?”

“Uh—2023,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck before just resting his hand there. “And it sucks, let me tell you—I don’t want to go back to 2023. At least, not that 2023.” He pressed his lips into a crooked smile. “At least there’s that,” he replied with a laugh. 

[emrldrchr]

It seemed like wherever he turned, he always managed to run into someone he knew, someone he didn’t expect. That was how he felt when he saw Michael, blinking a few times at the other man before it really registered who he was looking at. “You’re here, too? Jesus, everyone must have gotten the same memo,” he joked, though it didn’t really carry through in his tone or in his demeanor. Oliver was still so tired—he was still adjusting to the lack of paranoia that had come along with escaping to the past, the knowledge that government agents weren’t lurking around every corner for him still feeling more like a lie than anything else. He reached a hand out to firmly shake Michael’s before reaching his other hand up to squeeze his shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

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[emrldrchr]

ryhrpr:

he held his head down, “you didn’t think i’d travel back to help? nice to know you think so highly of me.” the bitterness was evident in his tone, tilting his head with a sigh. there was something… different about his former mentor, in a way it was something roy recognized from himself and how he must’ve been when he first arrived in the past. he shrugged, diverting his focus to the other archer for a moment, before looking back down and finally responding. “twenty-seventeen, and a few months i guess? dunno for sure.” he stood straight, though kept his back against the wall as he did. already this was uncomfortable, he was unsure what to even say to him but despite the resentment roy held, ollie at least made some effort so he may as well do the same. “and you? what year did you travel from?”

he deserved this. he deserved every ounce of punishment that anyone saw fit to dole out because he knew that he had been bad. he had pushed roy away when roy needed him. he had pushed dinah away even though she was the only good thing in his life. he had let his friends and his family come back here and he stayed in the future to act like some fucking martyr. “i didn’t know if you had the chance to.” before you died. because, in the end, that was what had happened to everyone else in oliver’s life in the future—at least, the few of them who were left. he let out a deep sigh. “twenty-twenty-three,” he replied heavily. he scratched at his beard again. “i probably look old as fuck.”

[emrldrchr]

unravel.

[emrldrchr]

cryofcanary:

Dinah couldn’t even begin to explain the way it felt to have Oliver in her arms once again. There was a story she recalls reading in her younger years about how people were made with two sets of arms and legs, that they were separated from their soulmates and were doomed to spend their lifetime searching for them. But Dinah knew the second she met Oliver that she’d never have to search another day in her life. He was it for her. No matter the ups and downs - and there have definitely been some ups and downs - they stood by one another. He was in her veins and there was no way in Hell she’d ever let herself live a day where he wasn’t otherwise. She leans into his touch, taking the grip he has on her waist as a sign to take a seat on his lap, causing their frames to become much closer. Her arm is roping itself around his neck while her hand continues to rake gently through the beard he now donned, gently tracing at the line of his jaw. 

He finally speaks and not only to the words confuse her, but they have her heart sinking in her chest. She wants to know why he’s so sorry, why he can’t seem to say anything but sorry. A few silent moments pass between them as she gazes into tired eyes, wishing they could just rejoice in the fact that they were together once again. But it doesn’t seem to be that easy. Not this time. An exhale rattles her frame as she’s pulled flush against him, looking down at him from the slight height advantage that her seat on his lap grants her. “It’s okay, Ollie,” she tries to sound reassuring despite earlier expressing her hurt to him. She was hurt, but so was he, and more so. Whatever petty shit she was hung up on was quickly discarded the second she saw him, the second she pulled him into her arms once again. 

“Baby,” it’s cooed in barely a whisper as she drops her head to rest on his shoulder, face finding solitude in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of him fills her head and Dinah can’t help but think - how can I be mad at him? They were a team, and he was finally here. That should be enough. But it isn’t, and she knows that. There’s something he isn’t telling her. Or, something he doesn’t want to tell her. She can feel him holding it in, the way it’s making his entire body tense against her own. “It’s okay,” she repeats. “We’re together now.” Her nose nudges against his jaw. “That’s all that matters, right?” At this point, Dinah is unsure if her persistence is to make him feel better, or herself. 

Oliver remembered so much about her. Other parts of his life felt hazy, like a half-remembered dream from his childhood, but everything with her was sharp, vivid, in focus, burned into his mind. His sheets were white—he remembered what the curve of her fingers looked like against his stark linens. He could remember how it felt to press himself against her in the early morning and pretend that they had nowhere to go on mornings where he would convince her to stay home with him and play hooky with him. He remembered how it felt every time she gave in to him. Every memory with her felt like it had happened the day before—every time he thought about them, a keen sting had shot through his chest. He thought that he would never see her again. He thought that he could have died and he would have never been able to tell her how goddamn sorry he was. 

He knew that there wasn’t a good excuse, not really, for what he did. It was selfish. He wanted to put her out of harm’s way without thinking about her choices and what she wanted. He wanted to isolate himself, as if that would make it easier for anyone when things got tough. These excuses weren’t good enough, especially not for her. She had given him so much and in return he had sent her to the past without an explanation as to why he had abandoned her, alone in the 70s. “I shouldn’t have done it,” he replied, his voice still barely above a whisper. “I needed you.” Ollie knew that he shouldn’t say that, especially when he didn’t think they could continue on like they used to be, especially when he didn’t think that he would be able to get close to her again knowing that when times got tough,  the world had only sought to tear them apart. 

Ollie raised a slightly trembling hand up to touch her hair where it draped over her shoulder, his fingertips grazing against her skin as he twisted the strands between his fingertips. He was here. She was here. He could feel her pressed against him. He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t doomed, that this was how they were supposed to be, but he just didn’t know. He didn’t know how to continue on. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to her next. Licking his lips lightly, he took a deep, slightly shaky breath. “Everything went to shit so fast,” he said quietly, his eyes staring straight ahead, unfocused and bleary. He didn’t know what to say next, where to start. All Ollie knew was that she was here and he belonged to her. Heart and soul.