its supposed to be like hes hunting her and falls in love with her

Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

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Complice

Originally posted by apgujeon

Park Jimin. Hogwarts!au. 7k words. Fluff. 

↠ Unraveling the reasons to Park Jimin’s assortment into Slytherin.


Park Jimin, for lack of a better word, is magnetic. An eye catching grandeur. A brilliant meteor cutting through the dead of the night. A glitter of gold and silver. It is no exaggeration when you say you would find yourself singling him out of many other ground-swept robes, clicking heels, wand wielders. It’s not the hair, no –not the locks of fireplace or charcoal ashes, it isn’t also the distinct pitch weaving through buzzing chatters nor is it the recurring dark smoke filling the air at the back row in charms. Thinking of the reason alone sends a pang of melancholy through your veins as your mind tries to block out the patches of defiled memories almost instinctively. But the unavoidable fact of the matter is, Jimin was once your world.

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Warmth. 

  That’s what you can feel surrounding you, along with the tightness pulling you in, holding you in place. It’s safe. It’s calming. The scent of him filled your nose each and every time you inhaled. The familiar smell of whiskey, leather and a hint of spearmint gum that he was chewing an hour ago. 

  His heart beat is steady in your left ear. Its a friendly reminder that he’s here; alive beneath you just like you need him to be. His index finger is tracing circles on the small of your back, assuring you that you had all the time in the world to lay together in complete silence.

  You wouldn’t dare admit to Dean that you loved these moments more than you should. They were a rare occurrence already; only after a tough hunt would you both take comfort in holding each other. The next day, you would pretend that nothing ever happened. He was a badass hunter and you were the strong independent girl who didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her. It was a terrifying thought that deep down you needed a man like Dean Winchester to hold you to make you feel safe. 

  You don’t need anyone Y/N. You can take care of yourself.

  But you knew that as long as Dean held you. As long as you felt him engulfing you into him. You were letting your walls down and allowing him in; allowing yourself to fall for a man that would never fall back. 

  His arms wrapped tighter around you. “You okay?” he whispered.

 How were you supposed to answer that? ‘Yes Dean, I’m fine except for the fact that I love having your arms around me and I never want you to let go.

  “I won’t then,” he stated. He placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

  “Did I say that out loud?” you muttered.

  “Yes,” he breathed out. “I never want you to let go either.” You buried your face in his chest, mostly to hide how red your cheeks were. It didn’t stop you from gripping him tighter in the process. 

more au ideas no one asked for
  • “you’re super short and i’m sorry but it’s really really cute whenever you try to reach that book on the top shelf here lemme help you- oh no don’t be embarrassed, your face is all red and you’re even more adorable now i am going to die” au
  • “i’m a biker and one day i was biking in your neighborhood while you just happened to be outside watering the plants and since you’re so goddamn cute i accidentally steered into a pole and now you’re giving me first aid (holy shit you’re even cuter up close)” au
    • “you’re biking through my neighborhood and you ran into a pole so now i’m really concerned and patching you up, oh my gosh you’re really hot even though you have a bloody nose” au
  • “i’m at a karaoke bar and i’m sober enough to realize that your voice singing my absolute favorite song is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever heard, and you caught me staring and winked at me oh shit” au
  • “you fell asleep on my shoulder on the plane ride and i would ask you to move but you look so comfy and adorable when you sleep. also you smell really good and the feeling of your breath on my skin is somewhat relaxing, maybe we can go out to lunch in this shitty airport when you wake up?” au
  • “you’re so perfect and i’m in love with you but i’ve never actually met you and you keep avoiding meeting up, so i called nev and max to help me figure out whether or not you’re catfishing me” au
    • “whoa it turns out you were actually just super shy and you’re even cuter in person pls kiss me in front of all these cameras” au to followup with that
  • “i’m a quiktrip worker and whenever I work a night shift, you always arrive and buy like 3 cans of redbull and you look exhausted, do you need some help? are you okay?” au
  • “you invited me to your brother’s/sister’s wedding as a plus one bc we’re hella best friends but we end up making out at the afterparty and now everyone thinks we’re fucking so uh,, u wanna go out for a drink sometime? try this whole couple thing out?” au
  • “my sister tried to set me up with her friend but little does she know that i am hella gay and i end up falling in love with her smoking hot brother, and whenever i hang at her place we always tell my sister that it’s for a date when really she’s now just trying to set me up with her brother” au
    • (this can be tweaked in any way to fit your otp :p)
  • “i’m one of those talk show stars that walks up to random people on the streets and asks them really obscure questions, and you’re really cute and camera shy and i’m sorry but it’s adorable how you stutter when you’re nervous, uh, perhaps when there aren’t so many cameras surrounding me i can buy you a drink?” au
    • “you just came up to me on the street and asked where the weirdest place i had sex was and i’m assuming it’s for one of those talk show things, but i’m really nervous because you’re really really hot in that suit holy shit” au
  • “will you stop flirting with me you just got seriously injured and i’m the EMT trying to tend to your wounds in the ambulance, i don’t give a fuck that i look cute when i’m concerned, you’re lucky you’re not dead you dipshit” au
  • “my mom/sister/dad/brother/best friend doesn’t know we’re dating but one day he/she/they walked in on us making out and started cheering oh my god this is so embarrassing i’m so sorry” au
  • “you have fire powers and i have ice powers and one day you save my ass and even though we’re supposed to be rivals, you’re actually really really cute and warm can i just stay in your arms forever bc i am perpetually cold” au
    • “you have ice powers and i have fire powers and i save your sorry ass from getting hurt/killed, okay i know we’re supposed to be rivals according to every legend ever but you’re adorable and wow you’re really cold, would you like me to warm you up?” au
  • “i’m so sorry i’ve been stowing away on your ship but i’m lonely and tired and starving with nowhere to go so please take pity on my poor soul bc you’re the sweetest pirate i have ever met and since we’re in the middle of the ocean now there’s no way you’re taking me back to land anytime soon” au
    • “i would be furious at you for stowing away on my ship if it weren’t for the fact that you look really sick and sad can i help you” au
  • “dude why did that siren take on my image to try and seduce you, is there something you wanna tell me” au
  • “I’m an elf with really bad aim so while hunting i accidentally shot you in the shoulder with an arrow i’m so sorry can i make it up to you in any way? oh shit you’re a wizard, please don’t turn me into a frog i’ll do anything you want me to” au
  • “we’re coworkers and all the other employees ship us so just for fun we all go out clubbing/to a bar but little do we know its actually a plot they set up to get us to realize our supposed love for each other. wait you’re actually a really good dancer and your laugh is so endearing and, holy shit, maybe our colleagues were right” au
  • “i catch you at the bus terminal shivering your ass off because it’s 30 degrees and for some godforsaken reason you’re wearing a short sleeve t shirt, so out of pity i lend you my hoodie and you look so surprised it’s the cutest thing i’ve ever seen, setting aside the fact that you’re a goddamn idiot, do you want to get sick?” au
    • (cont.) “you look so sad and cold that i just tell you to keep my hoodie b/c you obviously need it more than i do. a week later i see you at a coffee shop/book store/etc. and you’re wearing my hoodie which you look so fucking tiny and cute in, and you just saw me and you look super embarrassed; you offer me it back but i tell you it suits you more and we end up talking and i buy you a drink” au
  • “we’re partners in cupcake wars and i never realized how cute you look with frosting on your face until now but no distractions, we have to fucking pummel these other teams because we are the best goddamn cupcake company in the universe WE CAN DO THIS” au
  • “i’m swimming laps in a lake alone at night and i thought no one else was here but i just swam right into you and uh?? you’re not wearing a shirt and you’re hot as hell pl ease take me right here” au
  • “i took you to my family’s lakehouse and we went jetskiing which you were so adorably excited about b/c you’ve never been, and when we drove around on the water at ungodly speeds u held onto me b/c there was nothing else to hold onto” au
  • “my friends dared me to buy 20 condoms but i didn’t realize that the cute cashier would be working tonight so i avoided eye contact as i piled them onto the counter and please stop laughing so hard, oh my god it’s for a dare okay i’ve never had sex in my life and once you stopped laughing, i swear i fell in love with that sparkle in your eye as you grinned wildly at me and asked me out for a drink” au
  • “i accidentally called the wrong skype number and it turns out the person i called was you and you’re in a different time zone, so it’s 3am where you are and you just woke up and look fucking pissed but you’re cute so… let’s do this again when you’re not asleep. i’m more than willing to stay up into the dead of night to talk to you” au
  • “i’m a radio host who indirectly mentions you and flirts with you on my show but you’re so goddamn clueless, please just notice me i’m so desperate for you it’s kind of sad (see: welcome to night vale)” au
Be My ♥ Color

a/n: be more chill x soulmate au. :o if you wanna be tagged in the series letmeknow.kbyethanx. Updates on Thursdays & Sundays. Any Filipino friends/readers wanna help me out :0 Michael being biracial I wanna have a little more substance to him. I’m hispanic so I have one side of him covered but its unfair to only depict that side. I’d love the input/help to give Michael all of his canon qualities ^^ pleaseandthankyou
summary:  Jeremy Heere never knew he missed something until he realized he was living a world not only devoid of colors but of a soulmate. After a terrible incident he’s found himself chasing after colors he wants; and realizing there are some colors he needs as well.
warning: He’s a mean one, Mr. Squip
w/c: ~3.1k
sincerely tagging:
@guns-and-squips (betabae); @mishaisakitten@fandomgeek34@theunidentifiedfangirl @gayrhodians @ka-rin7204 @nekothecatblog @binxi1031 @spilling-tea @loststardraws @green-llama @walkingcontadiction @purpledays9@bouquetofllamas@hacks-the-trash @spoiledbuni @angryhatefulcoffee-man @gum-and-chips @redhoodiehearts @icouldhaveabettername@bemoresquip@anxiouscassette @bigdumbpigeon @blind-duck@multiotp @cherry-chree@violentwonders @memejocksupreme@fruityfrootloops @optimisticweirdo@beafayette @bacongirl86@ho-tdogwater @cloudydoodle@treebrosofficial@hamilamstrash @artsietango @bellatrixmld@strawberrrylips @vermilion-blues @ 8955342113853211 @bellatrixmld @strawberrrylips @chessy-is-confused @treebrosofficial @cough-syyrup @imfeelingay

04.←Enter to Continue →.05


“What do you mean we WON’T be doing a Midsummer Night’s Dream!” Christine groaned after being peeled off the ground and placed on a chair, holding  an ice pack someone had run to the nurse and got for her. She looked up at Mr. Squip then turned to Mr. Reyes who didn’t seem as bothered about all this as Christine.

“Mr.Squip and …the board suggested a slightly …different approach so we can attract more of a crowd this year.” He explained calmly.

Christine shook her head and slowly placed the ice pack aside. “What’s wrong with Shakespeare’s approach on theater!?”

“He’s DEAD, Canigula, let him go.” Mr. Reyes sighed, then slowly walked over to her and whispered. “The popular kids are going to be lending a hand, with them on board we have a chance of saving the theater!”

“But sir, since when does the theater sell out it’s morals like this?” She pressed one final time.

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Down the Rabbit Hole

Originally posted by carezero

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Genre: Wonderland!Au / Angst / (eventual) Smut / Drabble series

Rated T for mentions of drugs, madness and mature themes 

Word count: 1.8k

Synopsis: It took Y/n months - years. Infinite days of searching, of wondering, of grasping to the tiny, fragile hope of not being crazy as everyone said.

(But, really, who isn’t a child of madness in this world?) 

And, finally, she found it: the key to open the gates to Wonderland. So, with a smile curling her lips and liquid danger between her fingers, the girl gladly fell once again.       

Author’s note: So, dunno what this thing is, an experiment, maybe. Hope you’ll enjoy this darkish lil series (cos of course if the horror isn’t deep embodied in my words I’m not happy). In the next parts things will get way more interesting tho - this is only the beginning, after all.


prelude // part 1 // part 2


Prelude – Home again                                                                                  

                                                                                                      “Little Alice fell
                                                                                                                           d
                                                                                                                           o
                                                                                                                          w
                                                                                                                           n
                                                                                                               the hole,
                                                                                                bumped her head
                                                                                          and bruised her soul.”


The room is wide, nearly boundless, yet the smoke filling the area seems to deprive it of space as well as air. It makes the chamber suffocating, diseased, scorching, and the grey, cerulean spirals are almost the fingers of a lustful beast: they excite and rouse everything at their touch, they skim over soft cheeks and turgid lips, awakened by the click of a lock snapping open.

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A little One-Shot

Ok… I hate hiatus’s but they’re also perfect for inspiring and fic writing.

Now this is just an indulgent piece of fluff I had too much fun writing but, alas, I only wrote it in 20 mins (I was inspired) because I don’t have a lot of time to spare so if it feels crude or just plain wrong, then I do apologise.

This is for @callistawolf who wanted some new pieces and I thought I’d get the ball rolling, for @hopedreamlovepray who made me fall in love with one-shots and a thank you to @n4r4nch4 who literally cheers me on, even when I feel like I’m undeserving.

I love this fandom!

So I don’t think this will happen in the show but… (If you guys like it, I’ll put it on AO3 later)

…..

Happy.

It’s what she’d hoped for him, them. Eventually. But in all honesty; she’d had trouble believing it could happen… till a couple of weeks ago that is.

Now they were here, on Lian Yu.

Everything that shouldn’t have happened, happened, and everything they didn’t expect to did as well: the good and the bad.

Black Siren was gone. She truly was the exact opposite of the Laurel they’d known. She’d disappeared, injured as she was, during Oliver’s fight with Slade and none of them had the heart – nor the energy – to search for her.

But they would.

Later.

Adrian was gone. Dead… but Oliver hadn’t killed him. Thankfully he’d walked an unexpected path.

Oliver. Eyes closing, listening to the sound of the waves at her feet, Felicity remembered…

“Come on Oliver; it’s simple. Look.” Hand fisted in Felicity’s hair, he yanked backwards until her throat was exposed - her body pressed to his front - and held one of his daggers beneath her throat. “I’ll make it easy for you.” His eyes unblinkingly on Oliver’s, Adrian stressed each and every word. “If you don’t kill me - if you don’t shoot an Arrow into my neck - I will kill the woman you’ve been pretending not to love.”

It took an age for a response to come.

Without a weapon, he’d stood there – Oliver – as he’d entered the clearing, the place Adrian had hunted Felicity to until she couldn’t keep running anymore, and hadn’t said a word.

He’d just looked at her, seeing her determination, her exhaustion. Her fear.

Her love.

Her resolve. “Don’t.” She forced through her clenched teeth. “Not for me.”

Not anymore.

He couldn’t now. Not after everything. Not even for her.

And he knew that, she could see it. This couldn’t be like the Count. This wouldn’t be him instinctively obeying the mindset of the man who’d used killing as a defence mechanism for survival - a mechanism to protect - for over five years.

This… what had to happen, would be the turning point of his life.

And she was fine with that. “It’s ok.” She whispered; her voice scratchy from lack of water as she watched him watch her. “I’ll be fine.”

“No.” Adrian promised - a smile in his voice - the knife pressing into her neck. “She won’t.”

He was right. He’d kill her. Just to spite Oliver. If Oliver refused to kill him, Adrian would kill her as punishment. And the Oliver Queen she’d started to see again for the first time in 14 months, the Oliver Queen she’d made love to on his birthday - a present full of sex had been due for a while and was, let’s face it, part and parcel for the course between them - where he’d shown her in an explicit and detailed physical exploration with his hands - oh those fingers, she’d missed those fingers - his mouth - the perfect mix of firm and supple softness: pillow mountains - his tongue - this isn’t helping - and his words-

His words.

I’m so sorry I destroyed us.

You made me happy. I haven’t felt that since I took it away.

I didn’t know how to accept that I was worth being loved, that I could be loved by… by you. By Felicity Smoak.

I love you. I never stopped. It never went away, never altered…

I missed you.

Oh, I love it when you do that.

You feel good. Familiar. Yet… different too.

But… still good? (she’d had to ask, to be sure that still wanted her like she wanted him)

No. (And he’d smiled - of course he had - his nose brushing down hers, his fingers trailing warmth and desire over the uncovered skin of her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders and further down…) Better.

Thank you for my birthday…

That Oliver Queen who’d shone through so brightly, he’d disappear. For good this time. Dig wouldn’t be able to pull him out of it; there would be no one to show him his light.

Then he’d kill Adrian.

And after, he’d kill himself. Next to her. Just to be sure she’d be the first thing he’d see when he opened his eyes once more.

If she died here.

Yet still… it was the right choice to make. A choice where there wasn’t really a choice to make.

Oliver knew it, his eyes told her they did, the soft stance of his body told her they did…

Oliver.

If it had to end, if this was how it was supposed to go; she didn’t regret a thing. She’d loved… and had been loved in a way a lot of people can only imagine. She’d found herself inside him, her everything, her forever and her always…

So she smiled at him; it a was watery thing but large enough to see, to show the sheer happiness he’d brought to her, the love she’d felt grow somehow deeper in the two days since they’d slept together. It told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all.

And everything that he was, reflected all of that back at her.

How eyes could be so bright and expressive, she didn’t know but his always could and right now they were etching his name into her soul, just like he was taking hers into his own.

“Alright.” He muttered and he didn’t stop looking at her. “Kill her.”

She felt Adrian jolt behind her but didn’t stop looking at her guy, didn’t stop smiling at him. God, I love you. “What?”

“Kill her.” Oliver softly repeated.

“And you’ll just live with that? I don’t think so Oliver.”

“I know you don’t.” Oliver’s hand shifted, a knife of his own sliding into his fingers from his sleeve. “It doesn’t matter because the moment you do, the moment you kill her… I’ll kill myself.” He let out a sigh, his smile falling but his expression was still deeply serene. Like he was seeing in her everything he wanted and was so content with the reality of it, that he wouldn’t be sorry if it ended here either. “And it’ll all be over.”

Still smiling, a tear rolled down her cheek and Oliver watched it fall like he wanted to halt its progress with a finger.

It wasn’t like they wanted to die. There was so much they both wanted from each other, with each other – things they’d spoken of in the quiet after she’d brought him home to rest inside her. But if it had to end here, if it had to be this way… then let it be like this.

Together.

After all, they always been really.

“That… that’s not how this works.”

And like she’d prayed for, Felicity heard the struggle in Adrian’s voice, the need to understand something his brain was incapable of processing.

For the first time Oliver looked away from her to him. “That’s the way it is. “And there was this light in his eyes that made something in her sing as he lifted the blade up to his own throat, preparing to draw a line across it. “I won’t kill you. You don’t deserve for me to kill you. And I don’t need to.”

THIS was Oliver Queen. This was the good she saw, had been seeing since Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.

“You don’t think it’s sick, Adrian? That you need me like this?” Throughout it all, Oliver kept his voice low and steady. “You need me so badly that you want me to kill you? I’m so important to you…”

His dagger cut into her skin. “Shut up!”

“Why?” Oliver stared at him. “Does it hurt?”

“You don’t- you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is it the truth?” Oliver whispered. “Confess. You can’t live without me and you can’t kill without me here.” He raised a hand to the world about them in general. “But I won’t kill you. So,” Oliver looked back to her, love and hope an Arrow in his gaze, “what happens next after I’m gone? What will you do?”

Genius.

Before anyone could have done anything though, Rene - having followed Oliver but had been unable to keep up with his sprint - had shot Adrian point blank from the side. He’d died in seconds.

“I made him a promise.” Was all he’d said.

After a moment’s silence, Oliver had moved prompting her to do the same, to obey the need inside her. It just so happened his was the same need as hers.

They’d collided in the middle, his arms tight around her lifting her high off the ground, hoarse words breathed into her skin - I’m here baby - she’d wrapped herself around him, holding him close, breathing him in too and promising to never ever let go.

Spiritually speaking.

Because then they had to deal with the fallout. With Slade, who had a personal grudge against the two of them, the day just wouldn’t end, with Black Siren who’d fled the scene, Boomerang who’d been a giant pain in everyone’s ass… and Evelyn who’d then been killed in action.

A. Very. Long. Day.

She released a breath, letting the wind make a mess of her hair and rustle the trees –the lapping of the oceans waves – lull her very tired body into a peaceful state of rest.

The she felt him behind her…

“I can feel you there,” she murmured, “I couldn’t before.” And she chose – I don’t care if I’m naive – to believe it was because of their connection and not their five year war instilling a new awareness inside her that made this so.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She smiled, and if her voice was throaty - a purr really - well that was his fault. “Oliver, any disturbance by you is a welcome one.”

“Really.”

Not a question.

“Yep.”

“I don’t think the others would appreciate my idea of a disturbance with you.”

Her smile couldn’t get any wider.

His sex voice. Seriously, every time after sex… this voice. How do I live with myself, I just don’t know.

Turning to face him, she chirped. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He moved closer so that the sea was to his left and the jungle, his right. “You ok?”

She really was. He’d helped her there, earlier.

Probably looking profoundly love struck and foolish, she bobbed her head at him; wordless at the way the sun hit his face and lit up his hair. He really is blonde. “You?”

“It’s strange but… I think I am.” It came out in one long exhale. “For the first time in a really long time I don’t feel so… weighed down.”

Thank you God. “That’s a good thing Oliver.”

“It is.” And it was a thing with him, how his eyes on her own - like they could live forever staring into each other’s eyes and it still wouldn’t be enough for him - always left her without the air to make a sound. “You helped me get here.”

Uh, no.  She shook her head. “Oliver, I-”

“You did. I don’t how you do it,” he shook his head; still gazing at her, “but you do it anyway. I thought I wasn’t strong enough and you proved me wrong. I thought I didn’t deserve…” and he paused because whatever he was feeling looked overwhelming and he needed the moment to centre himself. “I thought I didn’t deserve you, that I could never earn you. So I stopped trying. Stopped trying to not be that person who would never be enough all those months ago, before Rene and Rory and Dinah joined the team.” He smiled and she felt it everywhere. “You gave me hope. You got me to believe,” he took a step closer and like a teenager her heart literally skipped a beat, “in my humanity again. I can never thank you for it.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” she really didn’t want that, didn’t want him feeling like he owed her that, “you never do. What you did here, what you’ve been trying to do for months… it’s proof of who you are. A good person; the best person I know.” My person.

But the look on his face – the smile in his voice – made her pause.

“I don’t want to thank you.” He whispered, making her blink, whiplash. “I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that you were right.”

Oh wow… “The rest of your life, huh?” And if her voice wobbled with restrained joy, if hers glittered just a tad, she really didn’t care.

He took a pause that felt like years before saying, “Can we start again?”

Er… “What?”

“I want to start over with you. From start to finish. I’m yours. Always have been.” Everything in her was turning into goo. “I want to marry you Felicity. I want to make a baby with you.”

He meant that. She could see it, the promise.

A baby…

A little over a year ago, she’d been too scared to consider the possibility. Though it made her happy, the idea of having Oliver’s child, it had also terrified her. Being in a chair hadn’t been the problem; it was the prospect of failing at being a good mother to any child they had that was.

But now?

How do you contain endless joy in a moment on a beach somewhere in the North China seas?

You don’t.

“I want to live with you.” He continued, watching the changes in her expression with awe and happiness and growing passion. “To fight monsters in the dark with you. The way it should have been. As my partner.”

He was right: the months between then and now, the distance, the chill between them… nothing had felt right, as if something had been perpetually off balance with the world.

But they’d needed it to get here. Sometimes, in order to rise you have to fall first.

Her smile - broken - revealed teeth, her hair stuck to her neck, her eyes described in detail what her lips couldn’t but could only whisper, “No more ‘should haves’.”

No more maybes.

His quiet laugh was choked. “No more.” Like he wanted to touch her, he took another half a step closer (if he moved in further he’d be practically on top of her and she didn’t mind one bit) “A new beginning… with you.”

“That sounds,” she took a breath because this, this was the moment; where forever starts and wouldn’t really end, “perfect.”

Their perfect. Dark times were inevitable, trials… but happiness was due too.

The boyish grin – the laugh still present on his lips – made her want to kiss him. And she would. Soon. But he had something else to say, she could tell.

And she was right. “Felicity Smoak.” He announced, in that soft, deeply masculine way of his that shot straight to her centre, married life is going to be awesome. “Hi.” She frowned when he lifted a hand, barely any room between them for him to do more than let it grace her stomach. “I’m Oliver Queen.”

She stared up at him… then pressed her lips together in understanding, feeling so much the rightness of what he was saying.

Lifting her hand to slide into his waiting fingers, her other tucked her hair behind her ears and affected nerves, shyness. “I know who you are.” Or at least tried to, but the deeper tone that left her was anything but and she knew he felt it in his bones when he licked his lips, when his abdomen jerked against her hand. “You’re Mr Queen.”

His hand tugged her closer, so that her chest touched his. “Mr Queen was my father. And I don’t think,” how his voice could lower any further she wasn’t sure, but it could and it did and ooh… “you’d look at him the way you’re looking at me.”

Oh boy. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like you love me.” Leaning in, the depth in his eyes had her falling into his hold. “Like you want me. Like you’re mine.” He quieted, his eyes looking at her mouth. “Like I’m yours.”

“That’s quite the description.” Accurate too. “So what’s your policy on kissing a stranger you just met on an island no one knows exists?” She teased.

“Oh, it’s my first policy.” Was his shameless, super fast response and a bark of laughter shot out of her, making her eyes close. “But only with you.”

How could she not kiss him with the utter love and feeling he gave her with every word he spoke?

“Come here.” Still laughing, her free hand slid up his throat, to the back of his neck to pull him close-

But he was already right there, smiling against her lips.

(And people, this is where I be cheesy and play ‘I need my girl’ by the Nationals because the song was made for Olicity – please listen to it here)

The feel of his scruff against her skin still made her tingle - she still felt the warmth of him down her sides, her stomach muscles contracting at the sure way his mouth opened hers - and still made her shiver in delight as her smile became a physical expression of everything she felt for him. Seeking, pressing, pushing, chasing his mouth with her own - re-leaning how he tastes, letting her tongue entwine with his - her hands were around his neck in seconds, cradling his head with them just the way he liked. Like she needed him closer and she was letting him know. The way his hands slid over her spine to press her as close – and as tight to him – as humanly possible. And when his fingers slipped into her locks to cup her head as he angled his own and- oh… I’ve missed this.

The kind of kiss that made her forget the world existed.

Her hands moved to drag across his scalp, one of them shifting down under his shirt and pressing into the musculature there, feeling every movement he made and the sound that left him wasn’t a groan or a growl. It was a sigh, one that came from deep in his chest…

She nipped as his upper lip, looking into his hooded eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you.” A firm kiss was followed by another. “I love you Felicity.”

She smiled again, her nose brushing over his, their breaths mingling-

“Oh my God, you weren’t kidding.”

It was also the kind of kiss to make her completely forget they had an audience. Her eyes didn’t open and she figured his didn’t either but she felt Oliver’s lips press together as he exhaled through his nose.

“I warned you.” John. He sounded unbelievably satisfied with himself. “But nope, you wanted to see for yourself. And here it is. The ugly truth.”

She felt Oliver’s chest vibrate and his lips twitch against hers. “He’s just like Tommy.” He muttered, too quietly to be heard by the others.

René just couldn’t accept it. “They’re like… romance novel bad.”

“I think its right.” She heard Dinah say, and she was officially Felicity’s new favourite person. “They should have done this months ago.”

“They should have had sex months ago.” René corrected and she felt the muscles in Oliver’s arm jump. “That amount of chemistry in the Foundry wasn’t healthy.”

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprang free from her, her head arching back as Oliver held her aloft. Okay, they’re all my favourites.

Oliver’s puff of air made her look back to him. “The children are being unruly.”

“Say what?”

Rene.

“Children?”

Dinah.

“…I’m oddly good with this.”

Rory.

“Are you two beautiful idiots done for the moment?” And Diggle once more; still sounding utterly superior. She’d let him have it. “It’s just, there’s a boat with our name on it, a wife the two of you are reminding me painfully of and a kid I really want to eat shakes with.”

Oliver’s eyes were so content…

She arched a brow. “Done?”

He shook his head. “We’re just getting started.”

Here’s to the rebirth of Olicity (and the horrid 4 week count down)

Arkos Pregnancy Au

here it is folks. What started out as a way of making me feel less depressed spiralled out into this beautiful au.

are you ready??? (also please keep in mind that I only did some research into pregnancy so if something is wildly inaccurate its because I’m lazy)

Keep reading

I Love You

Prompt: You were on a hunt with Sam and Dean when you got terribly hurt. Waking up, you find Crowley scowling the boys for being so careless and FLUFF!

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

A/N: Hey y’all! This one is longer than what I’m usually use to but I really liked how this turned out. Fluff to the max! Remember! My requests are always open and I’m pretty new here so I could use some friends :) Message me anytime! And as always! Enjoy!

Originally posted by a-hunter-angel


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You swung around quickly and blocked a punch the vampire was going to throw at you. You swing you machete up and across, slicing the vampire’s neck open. His eyes glazes over, staring at you as his head lolls to the side and falls off completely. His body hits the floor with a thud quickly after.

Before you could take a breath and focus again, you hear Sam yell out, “Y/n! Watch out!” You quickly swing around but you weren’t fast enough when the vampire hits you, sending you flying to the wall. You crash into it and fall to the floor, knocking your forehead into the floorboard. Blinking through the haze that fell over your eyes, you try to push yourself upwards but you felt a shoe make impact with your stomach, making you fall back onto the floor.

Keep reading

Hunting Together

A/N- The fourth part of Long Lost Sister. I recommend reading the rest of the series.

Series Summary- Sam and Dean meet their sister, Adam’s twin, on a hunt and things don’t go all that smoothly.

*Let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my future works*

Long Lost Sister Masterlist

Masterlist 

Y/N pulled her clothes out of the dryer. Years of hunting had caused Y/N to forget about the finer comforts a house brought with it and she was still getting used to life at the bunker. It had been two weeks and during that time the brothers had pushed off all hunts. Y/N knew it was because they had been hoping to connect and bond with her, but so far things had been slow going.

Y/N dropped her clothes off in her room and headed for the kitchen in search of dinner. The boys were already in there, and Sam was in the process of making a salad. He smiled at her as she entered and Dean was sitting at the table, ripping into his brother’s food choice again, “I’m just saying salad for lunch and dinner; what are you doing to yourself man?”

“Says the guy that can eat a cheeseburger for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day of the week.”

“Yeah, but cheeseburgers are actually good,” Y/N announced, entering the room and grabbing her brothers’ attention. Dean turned to her with a proud smile before turning and smirking at Sam. Even Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. He was happy Y/N was talking and joking with them, even if it was at his own expense.

Y/N took a seat across the table from Dean, “Speaking of which, I was thinking of making my amazing burgers, want one?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “Amazing burgers?”

Dean smiled proudly, “Amazing! Even Sam likes em.”

“Alright, I’ll try one, but you better not be fooling me. It better be the best burger ever.” Dean smirked, ready to rise to the challenge.

“I’ll take one too.” Sam called over his shoulder. Y/N and Dean gave him crazy looks.

“Seriously, weren’t you just bashing on my burger eating?” Dean questioned his younger brother.

“I merely pointed out you eat them a lot. I on the other hand don’t, and like you said your burgers are great!”

“A huh.”

Y/N took a big bite out of the burger. She had to give it to Dean, they were pretty good. “Okay, theses seriously might be the best burgers ever. They’re amazing!”

Dean smiled into his burger. He’s been struggling with how to connect to the youngest Winchester, but he was happy he managed to impress her. “Yeah, stick to my cooking, Sam’s is crap.”

Sam shot Dean his signature bitch face. “Thanks man.”

Y/N laughed at the boys teasing, while she wasn’t ready to admit it to the boys, sitting here eating burgers and joking around felt good. It felt natural.

As they were eating Sam’s phone rang, “Hello? Yeah Garth what’s up? A what? Huh. Yeah, I’ll call you back.”

Sam hung up the phone and shot Dean a look, “Sounds like Garth was tipped about a shifter in Arizona. He wants to know if we can handle it for him? He said he’s up in Wisconsin working a werewolf case or he’d take himself.”

Dean quickly looked at Y/N before facing Sam. Y/N excitedly cut him off before he could answer, “Yes!”

Dean raised his eyebrows at her and shared a look with Sam, before he answered, “I don’t know. Maybe see if there’s anyone out there. Ask Garth to check his GPS, I mean he’s tracking all our phones, right?”

They knew a guy that was tracking all their phones? What kind of friends did her brothers have? “C’mon!” Y/N was itching for a hunt, “You guys can’t keep me from hunting forever. I’m going to hunt. Actually, I’m going to hunt this case. So, it’s up to you, you’re either joining me or you can stay here.”

“Oh, you’re definitely not going by yourself!”


The trio made good time to Arizona. Y/N had never hunted a shifter before, but Sam and Dean knew from experience that shifters loved the sewers. While researching Sam had discovered that the murders had all happened in a five-mile radius. The plan was to start by working their way through the sewers and hopefully find the shifter and its base.

Dean pulled the impala up to the manhole entrance to let Sam and Y/N out. “Alright, I’ll start at the other end and let’s all meet up in the middle. Hopefully we’ll drop a shifter in the process.”

Y/N sighed. The area they were trying to cover was huge. The three of them should all go on their own; they’d cover more area and stand a better chance of catching the shapeshifter before it knew they were looking for it. “Guys, I know this is the unpopular opinion here, but he should split up. Sam and I included. We’ll have a better chance of catching it.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’ve been hunting by myself for over two years. I’m perfectly capable. In case you forgot, we meet by me saving your asses from a nest of vamps. Splitting up is the right move.”

Sam sighed, he hated to admit it, but she was right, “Dean, she’s right. I hate it just as much as you do, but if we want to catch the shifter we need to divide and conquer.”

Dean cursed under his breath, but nonetheless agreed. After reassuring them yet again that she’d stay safe, the boys drove off. Leaving Y/N to embark into the sewer alone.

Y/N slipped under the man hole cover and jumped into the sewer, splashing into the murky water below. The water was almost up to her knees and the smell was horrendous, but Y/N still pushed forward through the grime.

Y/N walked for miles under the city, without any success. She rounded a corner and noticed that to the right the water level seemed to be lower. She decided to follow it and turned right, following the walkway as it slowly sloped up. The ground continued to gradually curve right and the dark path started to lightly slowly.

Y/N entered a larger cavern and froze. In the middle of the cavern was not one, but two Dean’s struggling over a gun. Y/N drew her own gun and shot a crate in the corner grabbing the attention of both Dean’s. One had to be the shapeshifter, but the question was which one?

She raised her gun pointing it between the two, focusing it on the Dean holding the gun. “Drop it.”

Dean hesitated, but still dropped the gun where it splashed into the water below. How the hell was she supposed to know which one was the real Dean? “Y/N,” The Dean on the left said slowly. “It’s me, Dean. That’s the shifter.”

“Lift your pant legs. Now.” Both Deans did as she demanded. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them. When they’d left Dean had stuck a knife in his boot, but neither Dean had it. Crap!

The Dean on the right raised his hands, “You’re looking for the knife, right? The one in my boot. I took it out to try and fend off the shifter. It’s in the water over there.”

The real Dean would know that, but Y/N hesitated; there was a fifty-fifty shot she would shoot the wrong Dean if she shot now. Y/N gripped the gun a little tighter. This is why she liked hunting alone.

Dean on the right spoke up again, “C’mon, I wouldn’t announce that I’m Dean. I know you wouldn’t fall for that. I’m the real Dean.”

Y/N breathed in deeply, raising the gun toward the Dean on the right. From the corner of her eye she watched as a tiny smile graced the face of the Dean on the left. The sound of a gunshot rang out in the cavern and the Dean on the left dropped to the floor.

Y/N ran over to the standing Dean and shoved her knife into his hand. He gripped it and Y/N’s shoulders relaxed when he didn’t react. Dean raised his eyebrow at her. “You shot and you weren’t sure it wasn’t me?”

“I had a pretty good feeling.” Dean laughed and suddenly Sam came sprinting into the cavern, splashing toward his siblings, gun raised.

“I heard a gunshot, are you okay?” He looked around and saw the dead shifter floating in the water.

“Yeah,” Dean said looking at the dead monster, slinging his arm over Y/N’s shoulders. “Y/N just shot me.”


tags: @27bmm  @exploratiionist   @iamflanneltrash   @fabulouslycassie  @jesstherebel  @vvinch3st3r    @nothingiswrongwithit   @winchesters-favorite-girl

Because of your love

***

In a world, six thousand years ago, the time after the Ice Age and before the cultivation of the earth, when Fiore was covered in magnificent trees, a young man and a young woman are running for their lives. Will they find love along the way? / NaLu au, WARNING: smut scene

There was a chasm
Uncrossable
There was a mountain
Unscalable
Even when my lost heart
Was unlovable
You spread Your arms out
You laid Your life down for me
Now I’m set free
Now my heart sings


A lightning sliced the gray sky. A terrible thunder followed right after so suddenly that all the animals on the trees and on the earth trembled terrified and hurried to hide themselves in their hollows. The branches of the magnificent pines were now drooping heavily to the ground, as if even they were worried about the upcoming storm. Above the forest a second lightning flashed between the dark, threatening clouds, creating the illusion of a furious, snake-like creature, which was spewing thunders and fire.

Two human figures were racing through the forest as fast as the tall bushes and grasses were letting them. The figures wore mantled with housings and wide hoods protected their faces from the raindrops. If someone could look at them right now he would have thought that they were running from something. And he would have been right because the two figures were desperately trying to reach one of their hideouts, which was going to keep them safe from the storm… and from other terrifying creatures.

Keep reading

Daddy’s Princess

Summary: Y/N was the teenage daughter of Dean Winchester and with that was his highest priority. When she told him that she wanted him and her Uncles to meet her new boyfriend, he, of course, didn’t like the thought of that. Only time would tell whether he would accept her boyfriend or not.
Requested by Anonymous

Words: 995

Pairing: Daughter!Reader (x) Father!Dean

Originally posted by princesscas

Warnings: None.


Teenagers. They were unreadable. You never knew when they would pop and throw a tantrum or when they would come running into your arms and love you.

If you told young Dean Winchester that he one day would have to take care of a 17-year-old teenager, he would have laughed. But now here he was, sitting in the library of the bunker, with a 17-year-old daughter.

“Dad? Can I bring someone home with me tomorrow? I really want you, Uncle Sam and Uncle Cas to meet that person,” Y/N asked as she handed him some of his favorite pie. Whenever she did that Dean knew something he wasn’t going to like was about to come.

“Oh? And who is that someone?” he asked and looked at her while starting to dig into his pie.

Keep reading

4

@snackaddictmura​, @steppingonlegofme​, @henrymarsette​ & the anons who asked about Riko, here is a big dumping a general answer!

Feat: more about Riko’s important exes Jack & Yulong, and then his boss ass no romo life

>> The Kayleigh Lives AU <<

Part 1 of the Riko life rant

Keep reading

Outlander Noir. Part 7.


Anonymous said:
Greedy hands waiting for the next Noir chapter😍love your fics!

…you wish is my command. Sorry it’s late *again*. Heh. But I am now officially on holiday for a week! YAY! <3



“…Jesus…” Jamie cursed, his heart lurching as Claire stood, brushing the stray flecks of wood from her dress, her fingers twitching nervously at her sides as she tried to maintain a cool outward appearance.

He could tell, her face pale in the grey moonlight, conveying every emotion as she tried desperately to remain calm.

Reaching out, he took her hands against his and pulled her close.

“How the *fuck* am I supposed to be someone’s mother, Jamie?” she whispered, fear creeping along her spine, coiling around her heart as the prospect of a life on the run with a child in her care chilled her to the bone.

“How are –we– supposed to, Claire, remember?” Jamie soothed, rubbing the tips of his fingers against her frigid flesh.

“There is no *we* when it comes to this, Jamie. Don’t you understand?!” she yelled, her sudden outburst causing Jamie to almost tumble back as Claire yanked her hands from his, anger coursing through her like molten lava. “He’ll hunt us to the ends of the earth! There is no stopping him! You think you can just end it when you want, carry me off into the sunset?! You can’t. This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning,” she spat, a dark look lingering in her damp eyes, the tears gathering as she lifted her chin in defiance.

“I will not bring a baby into this mess, not a chance.”

Part of him want to stamp his feet in retaliation, to clench his fists – a mirror image of her current posture – and forbid her from talking about his bairn as if he (or she) had no right to life.

But he didn’t. Staring at her, he held her hard gaze until he began to see the cracks.

“How did ye feel, Claire,” he began, a slight quiver in his voice as he tried to remain cool, “when ye first realised that ye hadn’t lost the bairn?”

Her mouth fell open in shock as she tried to cover the instant look of overwhelming relief shining through the dark anguish that had previously coloured her features.

Automatically, Claire’s hands rose to shield her almost flat belly, her chin falling to her chest as she hiccupped a sob and bit her lip to contain the rise of desire she felt worming its way through her frozen limbs.

Stepping forwards once more, Jamie ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, a fine mist billowing around him as the warm air from his lungs met the cool night’s breeze that surround them in a chilling haze.

“Oh G-God…” she spluttered, her chest heaving, the pressure of her unclaimed need for this breaking the unstable dam that she’d tried to build around her.

“Hush now, Sorcha” Jamie sighed, taking her into his arms, the warmth of him melting her tense body almost immediately.

Her shoulders slumped, the tension fading away as she buried her head against Jamie’s neck and cried silently.

“I promised ye before, Claire, and now I shall promise ye again. No harm will come to ye, nor will I allow *that man* to come anywhere near our child. Do ye trust me?”

Digging her fingers into the soft material of his shirt, Claire twisted her head to the side, blinking her eyes as she blinked up at Jamie.

His face was bathed in the glow of the water, it’s rippled echo throwing a shimmering icy hue over his already pale skin. Swallowing back the apprehension, she nodded, steady tears trickling down her rosy cheeks as the wind nipped at her reddened nose.

“Yes, Jamie. More than anything.”

“Good,” Jamie replied, bending to place a chaste kiss upon her lips before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her back towards the cottage. “Then trust in this, mo nighean. We *will* have this child, and we will be safe, aye?”

Leaning her head against his shoulder, her legs feeling like lead as they made their way back inside, Claire nodded again in response, unable to conjure up the words necessary to agree with him. But deep down inside, her heart thudded out a dull beat, her pulse easing slightly at the reassurance he offered them.

“We’ll raise the bairn together, you and I,” Jamie continued, sensing that his words were bringing her some manner of light relief. “If ye wish it to be so, ken? Ye’ve had so much choice taken from ye that I willna force mine onto ye if ye dinna want it…but,” he launched, his palms sweating as he tried to allow her chance to recuperate whilst attempting not to assume one way or another without her actual say so. “I think ye do want it. I saw it then, in yer eyes, that longing that ye allowed fer a wee moment to penetrate the fear.”

Making her way back down the rickety staircase, Claire allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, Jamie’s words rolling around her head as she pushed open the door to the lounge and curled herself up on the nearly-new sofa.

Pins and needles bit at her feet as the heat of the basement lounge began to seep along her cold skin. Scrunching her toes up, she tried to focus on the feeling as she gently regained feeling in her extremities.

Jamie sat opposite, in the small arm chair, not wishing to crowd her as she rolled her neck, clicking the joints back into place with a satisfying clack.

Inhaling a large breath, Claire heaved her shoulders up and down, her eyes finally meeting Jamie’s once more as she licked her dry lips and allowed hope to surge through her like a jolt of electricity.

Seeing her answer before she spoke, Jamie smiled, his nose tingling as he felt his heart re-start and his stomach fill with warmth.

“I do, Jamie. I want it so bloody badly,” Claire breathed, her hands shaking with the truth of it. “I want our baby. Me and you, together.”

Launching himself from the chair, Jamie was by her knees in no time, his hands cupping her jaw so lightly that she almost shied away at the intense tickling sensation it sent tumbling down the nerves in her neck.

“Claire, ye dinna ken what this means to me…you are so precious to me, and I promise ye we have safe harbour back home.”

“Home…?” Claire half sobbed, her hushed whisper reaching only his ears as it dissipated into thin air.

“Aye, Claire. Home…” he reiterated, an intense joy coating his words as he folded himself downwards. His head came directly into contact with her abdomen as he spoke almost silently to her tiny visitor, wanting only the three of them to be privy to his plan.

“Scotland,” Jamie murmured, his palm hovering carefully over her tummy as he laughed, his breath disturbing the light fabric of Claire’s dress. “Our future….failte gu Alba.”

Let’s go home...

It was normal for them. Nothing unusual, nothing that needed a second glance or a raised eyebrow. Not a voice of protest or unsure glare…what they were, what they had slowly become…it was normal.

Time bore no mark, or change for their normal, for what was and what is. They had found sanctuary in the other and nothing would ever seem off about it. They started young, ever so young. Naïve children hurt by the world, alone even surrounded by a multitude of admirers and enemies alike. Left in a world that only seemed to measure their worth for what they could give their precious village. Measure their worth for how much they could sacrifice, how much blood would spill from their lips, how much pain they would bear on thin shoulders without so much of a protest.

Yes…they had started young.

It was a cold December, colder than any other. Snow had already began to fall, blanket of white that painted the village in a wonderland. Beautiful Konoha she was, with smiling women and their young babes. Children who filled the cold nights with laughter and cheer, happy to frolic about the snow. Their parents’ indulgent praise enough to make the heart sore, contented as they are finally held in warm embrace. A happy picture most would say, for what taint could possibly show itself this night. Who would not feel cheer, and warmth of family as the enchantment of winter whispered sweet songs in Konoha’s ear.

How quickly they forget, for not far away a lone boy sat, a knee folded to his chest, his other foot dangling over the wooden dock. Below his foot the water rippled, ice cold as it soaked his shoe, not that he seemingly cared. He blocked out the world, reminiscing on days of past. How his mother would greet him with her sweet smile, her hair spun silk, as dark as any raven flowing over her shoulders. His hands clenched tight, anger, grief…a release he would never get until that man was dead. Until he answered for his crimes! Times like these he hated Konoha, how happy they were when he was…but he wasn’t the only one was he?

“Sasuke?” Sasuke released the breath he didn’t even realize he held, shoulders slumping if only slightly as his foot stilled upon the cold waters of the lake. There was an awkward shuffle behind him, strangely light footsteps for someone who had proven himself unapologetically loud. It wasn’t a surprise, the hesitation, almost tension, before the blonde sat quietly beside him, feet dangling over the dock.

The laughter had begun to dim, endless chatter and playful music moving with the crowds as they sought the center of the festival. Paper lamps swayed in the wind, flames flickering for the clump of snow that would fall ever so slowly from the rafters.

“It gets like this every year. When I was little I always wanted to be a part of it. I would stare out the orphanage window, and when I finally got a place of my own I’d stare out that window too.” Naruto muttered, a huff of laughter with sad smile. Sasuke said nothing, Naruto didn’t expect him to. For how long they have sat together over the years, staring aimlessly at a celebration they could never be a part of. Sasuke, by choice and he…he by something else.

“Sasuke, is it stupid that I miss people I’ve never known? Miss someone that could be alive, and just never wanted to raise a demo—” Naruto flinched when a cold hand slowly twined with his. No hesitation, a strength he never knew he needed, having been so strong on his own. A necessity, if he hoped to survive a village that barely paid attention to his presence, never acknowledged him. It felt unfair, here Sasuke comforted him, even if said boy still stared out at the village with dead eyes and even breaths. Unfair, because where Naruto had never known his family, Sasuke had…until they were taken away.

“Sasuke, I…” Sasuke I what? It didn’t feel right apologizing, knowing Sasuke he wouldn’t want an apology either. He would view it as pity, Sasuke Uchiha was not one to be pitied.

“Naruto?” Naruto would have almost missed it, that voice that gave away that they were in fact growing up, that they would soon be different. Sasuke’s hand tightened around his for a moment, warm now from their shared connection before he gently pulled away. It felt odd, but when Sasuke let go, he felt lost…he felt more alone. He hated it…and in the same breath, he lived for it.

It meant…what did it mean?

“Sasuke?” Naruto asked, it seemed Sasuke was fighting with himself. The tell-tale signs were in the crease of his brows, how his mouth titled just a fraction, how his hands clenched. Sasuke looked his way, dark eyes unwavering, a decision made without further argument, as the festival faded from their minds.

“Let’s go home, Naruto.”

Go home…they both lived alone. Why would Sasuke even?—oh, go home. He remembered, a statement made in jest a year ago after the attack of Orochimaru. He had joked that he and Sasuke might as well lived together, they were in each other’s presence more than the rest of the team at any rate. Plus, Sasuke could finally understand the gloriousness that was Ramen.

Yes…they started young. That night, and the nights thereafter, they would both share a home.


It took a while, but they got used to it. Even as they got older and they would perform motions like clockwork. Even when they would garner raised eyebrows, Sasuke scoffing as he dumped yet another bundle of vegetables Naruto still very much detested in their basket.

Their basket…who would have ever thought they would both call it that one day.

It took a while, but not too long. Cold nights, and restless hours Naruto would know when to get up. When to leave his bed and search for Sasuke. Know just when the young teen then and now adult would be trapped in the makings of another nightmare. Nightmares that would never leave him be, nightmares that haunted him, for Sasuke was sure he needed no help. Naruto understood…but he also worried. He used to hesitate, but now this was the new normal. Easily he would slip into Sasuke’s bed, curl around him, and hush him softly. Sasuke would tense like he always did, stiffen as Naruto carded his strong hands through his hair, but then ultimately slump with a long released breath.

He would hum, off key as he always did, exhausted, Sasuke would smirk lightly, insult him, tell him that his ears hurt. Naruto would only laugh, he saw the veiled thank you for what it was. He understood, would always understand….Sasuke was a man of very few words, while he himself was a man of many. They both knew this, for in return when it was he who thrashed in place, suffering from the markings of his supposed failure, the guilt of his mentor’s death. When it was he that screamed himself hoarse, and even then continued to scream, it would be Sasuke wrapped around him, equally strong hands carding through blonde hair.

He wouldn’t hum though, Sasuke Uchiha didn’t hum. If Naruto teased him because of this, Sasuke saw it for the thanks that it was. Saw that it was merely Naruto who didn’t dare show that he was less than strong.

“Let’s go home, Naruto.” Sasuke would whisper again, after much time had passed and the moon peered down from the sky knowingly. Crickets would chirp, and the wind would sing. Neither would say another word as they both held on tighter to the other.


More years would pass, Sasuke would seek his revenge, finally given the chance to hunt down the man who had taken it all from him. A mission issued by Tsunade with weary eyes and a strange sense of guilt. Naruto would frown, something did not feel right, blue eyes would then flicker to Sakura, the woman biting her lips, fingers clenching as if she wished to reach out for Sasuke.

He was right. Something had been terribly wrong.

Itachi fell by Sasuke’s hand, the man falling to his knees with blood stained hands, the rain washing away endless tears that he would let no other see.

Itachi had been innocent. He died by his brother’s hand so Konoha would never take the fall for their corrupt politics. Take the true fall for the Uchiha’s massacre should Itachi live to turn on them. They did not factor that the man would live long enough to reveal the truth.

Sasuke raged, Sasuke wept…Sasuke stared into conflicted blue eyes, did not resist as he slumped into Naruto’s hold.

Revenge weighed heavily on his mind, it had been all he had lived for, but more bloodshed…where would it take him?

“Let’s go home, Naruto.” His voice was strange, it pained Naruto’s heart, but he understood.


Home…they went home.

Naruto would become the new Hokage, Sasuke his faithful shadow. They would work to usher Konoha into a new age. Work to see Konoha pay for its sins, work to see her become so much more than she could ever be.

Naruto would wait one day at the gates, robes billowing in the wind, a large grin as a shaped formed in the distance. Sasuke would wear a gentle smile, his pace no way hastened by the blonde’s long awaited greeting.

“Sasuke, let’s go home.”

Home they would go. Home was not a place, home was always with the other. There, they would never be alone, they could live through the other and put aside misguided guilt and revenge. There, insecurities fell, acknowledgment only ever sought from the other.

Home….their home, it was how normal felt.


AN: Written for Nala, just how you wanted it. I hope you get better love, i’ll be visiting you in the hospital really soon.

A Mother's Rage

HEY HEY HEY. I’m back with another story in this Series! Can I just say that I fucking love this AU?

Cause I do.

It’s so amazing I swear to GOD.

@virus-arc-tracer is my partner in crime, and she has made designs for Amazon! Damian. (They’re amazing go look at them right now)

And, as always, @fishfingersandjellybabies because without me tagging her she wouldn’t know what happens next in this series and I don’t want that.

Ever.

Anywaysn, here’s the summary!

When it comes down to Damian’s safety and sanity, Diana is not afraid to bloody up her hands with the blood of her son’s biological mother.

Diana doesn’t play around when it came to claiming vengeance.

Enjoy~~~

Keep reading

Say I Love You... (Part II)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean tries to take his feelings for Y/N to the next level with a confession, but will he fall through or chicken out…?

Part 1.

                                                        ~*~*~*~

The brisk winds of Lebanon course through the empty bunker, licking up Y/N’s arms as she sits in the library, feet up on her seat and a book perched on her knees. It’s a frigid Autumn’s morning, the hallways whistling in the quiet. She’s supposed to be researching. Sam had left her trying to find them a case, something to busy themselves for the time being, but somewhere along the way she was distracted by a stray book left open on the table.


Licking her thumb, she flips to the next page, eyes focused profusely, that she doesn’t hear the heavy clunk of boots against the floor.


“You’re up.”


Y/N’s gaze lifts and head swerves in the direction of the voice—Dean. Standing in the entrance, pajama-clad, head-headed and sleepy-eyed. He must have just woken up, she figures, as she sets the book down and the corner’s of her mouth twitch up.


“You, too. Finally.”


Dean scoffs and runs a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, barely. I’m still semi-asleep.” He says as Y/N makes her way over to him, smiling warmly, and wraps her arms around his neck in a warm hug. The elder Winchester chuckles softly, then pecks her hair that smells of lavender and milk.


Y/N pulls away with a devilish smile. “I can wake you up…”


“Not now.” Dean laughs. The crinkles by his eyes come out. Y/N tries not to stare. “It’s too early for that.”


They brew coffee and burn the omelet they tried to make and it everything anyway. Sitting on the kitchen counter, legs dangling limply like a doll’s, Y/N  tosses some burnt bacon into her mouth.


“So…” She chews. “What’s today’s agenda?”


Dean shrugs from the floor where he’s seated, chugging black coffee like its water. He’s still in his pajamas, still messy-haired and his voice is a bit croaky and rough from his deep slumber, but he looks more awake now. More here. Y/N is grateful for that. He should be here, she thinks. After their conversation the previous week back in that motel, that’s all Y/N wants from Dean. Presence. Being. She remembers being worried sick about him a few days before the hunt when the elder Winchester had seemingly fallen into a depression of sorts. He’d shut everyone out, became a recluse. Seeing him here now, smiling, drinking coffee and rubbing her Achilles heel, Y/N felt her heart swell with relief.


“Do you….uhm…” Dean speaks suddenly, reeling the young girl back to reality as she turns to him.


Her brows quirk up in query. “Do I…?”


“Uhm….Do you wanna go out today? Like, an old fashion date? It’s been a while since we’ve been on one of those”


“It has been a while since we went out.”Y/N affirms.


Dean feels a swell of hope within his chest, but tries not to show it. “So that’s a yes? I thought that maybe we could ditch work today and hang out. Maybe do other things.” The elder Winchester smirks at Y/N, tickling her heel, and she squeals as she pulls it away. “What do you say?”


“Yeah, that would be fun. Where do you want to go?”


“It’s a surprise. Can’t tell you.”


“Is it fun?” She asks. Dean nods curtly. Y/N then smiles once more, hopping off the counter. She bends down to capture his lips in a quick and sweet kiss, then pulls away, pecks his nose and runs off to get dressed.


                                                         ~*~*~

Dean remains behind in the comfort of the silent kitchen, lips still buzzing from the kiss. His hand, involuntarily, floats up to his mouth and he runs his thumb across it. God.


God, this girl.


It’s amazing how much she can affect him just like that, he thinks as he rises to dump his cup in the sink. It’s amazing and scary. He’s never felt this way before; he’s never wanted to, and yet here he is, stomach filled with violent butterflies and wanting it to never stop.


Wandering through the bunker, Dean makes his way into his bedroom to get changed for their date. They’re going to the nearby lagoon to drink beer and see who can skip the most stones, and then, if the heavens are in his favor, he’ll gather the courage to tell her. To confess.


Three little words: I love you.


Dean has never thought that he’d be in a position where he’d have to utter them, where he’d be scared shitless to utter them, but he’s realized that dwelling on that won’t do any good. The time has come, inexorable and scary and real, and so the only option he has is to fall through with his destiny.


I Love You.


He’s been saying it in his head religiously, like it’s a chant, a mantra that connects him with the higher beings somehow. Throwing on a grey undershirt and a blue-black flannel, the elder Winchester tosses his pajamas onto his bed and then moves to get the keys from his bedside drawer. It’s full of little trinkets; bullet shells, coins, medallions and receipts with unholy numbers for beers. Dean trawls through it all until he finally finds the key. He palms it.


The drive to the lagoon is relatively long, an entire forty five minute journey up the road then into the valley and out. Dean’s hand steers the wheel while the other arm hangs limply out the window, facing the vicious touch of the breeze.


Seated in the passenger’s seat, Y/N’s legs are crossed up Indian-style on the leather. She’s wearing her date-dress;a pleated peach-colored skirt that stops mid-thigh with a fitting strapless torso. Her hair, soft, silky tresses of y/h/c dance in the wind, and Dean tries to remind himself to keeps his eyes off her and on the road if he even wants to make it to their date.


“Someone looks nice.” He comments, casting brief glance at his girlfriend.


She blushes and tries to hide it by turning her head to the window, chuckling and shaking her head. She then turns back to him. “I know.”


“Do you, now?”


“You’re looking nice, too.” Y/N smiles as she takes the elder Winchester’s hand in hers and starts tracing shapes on the back. “I mean, you always look nice, but today it’s especially nice.”


“Nice save.”


“Wasn’t it?”


Dean laughs, shaking his head, and Y/N only smiles like she’s so proud of herself for drawing it out of him. He’s noticed that about her before—how she’ll say something, something dorky and goofy and funny and then wait until he acknowledges it with a laugh to pride herself in it. When he brought it up to her once, she thought it was embarrassing. Dean thinks it’s adorable. She’s adorable.


She drags her finger along the back of his hand in random lines and curves and zigzags, like she’s drawing a map.


The car slides down a sloping tarmac road, into a grass clearing and then further down until the little woods surrounding the lagoon are in sight. Dean kills the engine and then yanks the keys out as Y/N reaches into the backseat for their things.


“I’ll get the beer.” The elder Winchester garbs the six pack. He climbs out. They walk down to the lagoon because it’s not too far, and they like the feelings of their hands pressed together as they traipse down the paths. The grass has been trampled on and all that remains is a narrow path of dirt that leads into the woods.


Y/N, smiling and glowing with excitement, squeezes Dean’s hand as she turns to him. “So this is the surprise, huh?”


“ I remembered how much fun we had the last time we were here with Sam and Cas. A pretty long time ago, before we even started dating, but…” He falters a bit, trying to grapple for words that can describe what he’s feeling because even he is lost. He might already be accepting of it, but Dean still needs some getting used to with speaking of love.


But he forces himself on, swallowing thickly as his nerves come alive. He squeezes Y/N’s hand in his a bit.


“…I can never forget that day, even if I wanted to.” He admits. “Stupid, huh? Yeah, I uh…I know. But, it’s only because that day was the day that I…that I…”


“Dean.”


They stop walking as Y/N steps in front of the elder Winchester, blocking him.  His footsteps halt and he stills.


“Y/N, what’s up?” Dean asks, disconcerted. The young girl gapes at him, big y/e/c eyes that are swimming with something, something profound and real, and it’s only then that he notices the shift in atmosphere—the solemnity, the intimacy. Y/N is smiling at him—really smiling, with dimples so big you could eat soup out of them, and her eyes are little slits in her face.


She lifts his hand to her cheek and holds it there for a bit. The lagoon is no less than twenty feet away. Dean splinters, because it’s soft and it’s warm and Christ, now, say it now…


“Y/N, I….” His tongue feels swollen and heavy and he’s beginning to panic. He wants to smack himself over the head, because he’s a hunter, dammit, these shouldn’t be the things that make his knees wobbly….but they are.


She is.


‘Y/N, I love you’, he wants to say.


“Dean, is something wrong?” The young girl’s brow furrows, gaze swimming with concern. Dean gulps, shaking his head.


“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…”


“You look a little flush.” Y/N places a cold hand on his warm forehead then pulls it back. “You’re a little warm—sure everything is fine?”


“Let’s keep moving.” Dean sidesteps her and then walks quickly and jerkily because he’s knees feel like jelly and his head is spinning. He needs a beer.


The Lagoon is big and blue and surrounding by large rocks towering fifty feet high as an enclosure. The only leveled land is the little patch of grass that he and Y/N walk onto, emerging from the forest.


As soon as they see it, nostalgia washes over them. This is where it happened, Dean thinks. Where he first realized his feelings for Y/N. Where he opened the gate for love to sneak into his heart like a burglar in the night.


He wouldn’t trade it for the world.


“Can I have a beer?” Y/N asks, laying out their blanket on one of the rocks. She dumps her bag and  the beef-jerky nearby and walks over to her boyfriend. She slides a beer out from the packaging, then uncaps it and takes a long sip.


“Ah, that’s refreshing.” She pulls it from her lips, wiping her mouth. Then she tips it at Dean, raising her eyebrows like it’s an offer. “You want some?”


“I’ll get my own.”


“We always share our beer…?” Y/N’s voice harbors an edge to it, and before he knows it, she sits and faces him, eyes swimming with concern.


“Dean,” She begins. “ What’s going on? You’re acting strange.”


“Nothing.”


“Stop lying to me.”


“I’m not lying, Y/N. Nothing is wrong, okay? Nothing. Let’s just…” The elder Winchester’s voice melts away, his voice exasperated, tensed, muscles twitching. Dragging a hand down his face, Dean shakes his head a little and wonders what is happening.


This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He tries to salvage the moment, refill it with heart and intimacy as he turns to his girlfriend but Y/N’s head is already bowed sullenly. Her hair hangs in a rich y/h/c curtain across her face.


At this, Dean feels his heart wrench. He sighs, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “Y/N….”


“I’m just trying to be there for you.” She says in a small voice, hush, vulnerable. Dammit, she’s so damn vulnerable. A swell of sympathy wells in the hunter’s chest as he scoots closer and engulfs her in a hug. Her head is on his chest, and she feels small and fragile and he wants to make her feel better.


“I know.” Dean responds. “And I appreciate it—really, I do…I’m just….” Shutting his eyes, he shakes his head.


“You’re just Dean. You don’t want anyone to help you. You just want them to watch you burn yourself to the ground.”


“Y/N, that’s not what I meant—“


“We talked about this just the other week.” Y/N whips around to face him face marred by anguish.


Her brow is furrowed and her eyes have glazed over; Dean can tell she’s holding back her emotions, trying not to burst, but it’s like watching a balloon filling with air, just waiting for the inevitable pop that doesn’t seem to come.


“I want to help you, Dean—I thought I did, but, God— you make it so hard sometimes.”


“It’s not like I’m purposely trying to.”


Y/N says nothing, instead waving him off as she reaches for her beer and then taking a big sip from the bottle. Her head tilts back and she chugs it. The light is leaking onto them through the partings in the trees overhead and the lagoon is glinting in the sun’s light. Birds are singing.


Dean’s gaze lingers on the girl before him as she fiddles with the label on the bottle. She isn’t angry per se—she can’t be. It would take a lot more than his mere stubbornness to get Y/N angry, the elder Winchester knows, but she’s upset, and….


“Y/N…”


“What?” She glances over her shoulder, un-amused. The sun spreads a warm glow of light over the profile of her face.


Dean is sweating.


The tips of his fingers go as cold as ice and he can feel his muscles tense. Everything around him stops; he stops. It’s like his body has halted functioning, because he can’t even seem to get breath in his lungs and blood in his fingertips and face and do it, do it now, he thinks but—


“Dean…?”


“I love you.” The words are forced out of him.


Dean lets the silence that follows hang in the air, his chest still tight and wrought with butterflies. Y/N’s eyes go wide, the confusion and worry melting away gradually as she lowers her beer.


She looks at him.


Really looks at him.


And the elder Winchester feels his mind spiral into a panic because he realizes—now what?


He’s said it. The words have escaped him and his proclaimed his affections and yet nothing is happening. The seconds are floating by like wisps of wind. Y/N is saying nothing, shock-ed still, and having not anticipated this, Dean begins to panic even more.


“Uhm…” he stumbles, averting his gaze. “…yeah, that came out of nowhere. Never mind that, sorry.”


Y/N’s eyes are still glassy-and perplexed, her face looking like she’s truly baffled by this claim. “You love me.” She says, sounding it more like a statement than a question.


The elder Winchester rubs the back of his neck, abashed, as a warm blush warms his face.


“I….”


“Dean I…” He waits, feeling his skin tingle,..And then Y/N laughs.


She laughs.


It’s a brief and precise laugh, chuckle, really, that sounds disbelieved, and Dean nearly dies right there on spot, and he wants the earth to swallow him and he stumbles to try and backtrack and tell her to forget it when he feels fingers lace with his.


The green-eyed hunter glances down at their hands. Y/N’s sits enveloped in his, tiny, fragile, like that of a porcelain doll.


He casts his gaze up.


And she’s crying.


“You love me…”The tears are soft and very feint, but he can see them. She’s crying. She’s crying and he loves her.


Dean feels a lump in his throat bob up and down, and he swallows. His voice is hoarse, croaky. He’s glad he’s sitting down because if he were standing he’d end up on the floor minutes ago. “I do..”


“You’re not just saying this to ease the tension?”


“What?” His face is incredulous, offended, even. “Of course not.” He insists. “I mean, it—Jesus, Y/N…what does that mean? You don’t think I mean it?”


“I want to be sure.”


“Well, then be sure—I mean it.” Dean says and squeezes the young girl’s hand for emphasis. Her gaze then slides from his face to their hands and back up as Dean waits. He wants her to say something, to respond.


And she does.


In the best way possible—because as soon as their gazes meet, the silence growing heavier and unbearable and eating Dean up from the inside out, a smile breaks through Y/N’s face and then—


She kisses him.


String-like arms wind round his neck like veins and the feeling of warm, soft lips pressed on his encompasses Dean. He stumbles back a bit, bringing her with him as she rolls on top of him. Her lips never falter. She kisses him, devours him.


When she pulls away, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted, Y/N smiles sadly and Dean notices the tears in her eyes.


She sniffles, overcome by her emotions, and then the words that leave her lips melt him—destroy him, a like meteor crashing into an oncoming planet, like the strike of a match that sparks a fire.


“I love you, too, Dean Winchester.”


                                                     ~*~*~

Of course he came through! it’s Dean!

Thank you for reading; as usual likes and reblogs are much appreciated. Also, feel free to follow to see a few more one-shots and imagines or to send in a request and have me write it for you because I do actualyl do that (i’m sorry if have sent in a request and its not yet out I’m a terrible procrastinator)