Just did a few quick memes while I was on break. Because this spoiler pic was too good! They’re posted on his page. Go like if you want. I can’t remember everyone off the top of my head. On my phone. So sorry.
It’s unexpected, when he asks her. Although, it’s not really
asking because it’s a mumble in a silent, breathless foundry where the only
sound is the humming of Felicity’s computers. Oh, and the gasp. Yeah, her gasp
kind of fills that silent void after.
“Oliver…” She replies, because he’s not really in any
condition to be asking, not with him bleeding out over the med table like this
and her desperately trying to get him out of his new Green Arrow suit before
they ship him over to the hospital. Not that it’s really as hard as getting him
out of his other one because this one is sleeveless and there’s a lot more
armor and a lot less trying to squeeze his bulging biceps out of tight leather.
“What…What are you talking about?”
“Visitation rights.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering halfway
between open and closed. “They won’t let you see me like this. We’re not
I actually wanted post this yesterday, but I got caught up, setting up my blog. So here is my first Olicity Fanfic Recommendations post. Short reminder: If you want to make sure that I see your fanfics, always feel free to tag me. :)
A lot of my favorites are summed up in my Olicity Fic Survey so you can check out those as well.
Ever since I have set that up a lot of new fics have been written or at least read by me so here are some of my favorites:
“Parkour!” by aubvi- Felicity surprises Oliver with a trip to an indoor parkour park because she knows it’s killing him to not jump around like a ninja. It’s a win-win because he gets to play and she gets to watch.
“Beauty and the Quarterback” by xgeektacularx -
Oliver Queen; pro-football player and Starling City’s so called notorious playboy. Since childhood he’s been in love with his best friend Felicity Merlyn, Tommy Merlyn’s fraternal twin. The twist? He’s afraid to let himself love her.
“Didn’t mean for it to happen this way” by skcolicity-
Ray, Felicity, and some friends spend the last part of her birthday celebration at Verdant. Oliver tries to be happy for her, but fails miserably, as weeks of stress and heartache finally cause him to snap and lash out in uncharacteristic ways. (If the first link does not work, try this to Chapter 3; Links to Chapter 1 and 2 are added)
“Heart Shaped Wreckage” by arrow-through-my-writers-block-
Oliver and Felicity are living in peace, Team Arrow no longer needed in Starling City. But when the League of Assassins come to recruit him only to be denied, they take Felicity instead, sending Oliver into a maddening race to save her before the League can dig their claws into everything he loves most about her.
“Words in my memory” by
After saying goodbye to Oliver in Nanda Parbat, Felicity Smoak returns to Starling City knowing life will never be the same. Little does she know just how different her life is about to become as the repercussions of her night of shared passion with Oliver come to light.
“Or forever hold your peace” by katanabaabe- They’ve been best friends since college. And then one night she calls him devastated and he tries to comfort and they end up in a non platonic situation. Except she’s engaged to be married in a few months and he’s not her fiancé. Where does that leave them?
aaahh, i need that 'sylar digging claire out of the odessa bombing' fic so bad!!! #he just wants to fix what's broken ... MY EMOTIONS
The first thing he notices about the so-called brave new world is that it smells like blood.
And charred flesh.
eye opens warily; dark clouds and coalescing chunks of smoke are
clearing up rapidly overhead. There’s light streaming down, dolefully
piercing against the miasmic screen of sulfur and burned oxygen. No bird
is singing, no bug is chirping, and it’s its absence that annoys him
significantly more than its presence did just a few minutes ago.
It’s summer, he’s in Texas, the summit, Claire’s trunked discourse ‘it’s a brave new world—‘.
of the memories hit him at once and he immediately sits up; his arms
move to feel his chest, his face. There’s blood and dust and pieces of
his clothing fall to the ground with the sudden movement. He’s been
burned — terribly — and with the realization comes the pain, firing up
synapses screaming underneath carbonized flesh. He allows himself a
moment to recover, thinking how undeniable ironic is that he decided to
mock-grant and give into Peter’s wish to add some color to his wardrobe
today of all days. It’s not like the navy blue shirt he is wearing will
be seen, not when only a tenth of it remains attached to his body and
the rest is all blood stained and burned substance.
vague, random thought that brings to the forefront of his mind other
urgency. His movements are frenzied, silence crippling the moment as for
once he’s exerting his (untapped) ability to keep his mouth shut when
he bites on his tongue as pain travels all throughout his body. He’s not
sure what happened, he can only guess given the seemingly supernatural
nature of the eclipse donning the firmament merely seconds before
everything burst into flames. The explosion caught everyone off guard
and not even he and his keen sixth sense to operate and outsmart danger
was pardoned when part of the ceiling feel on top of his body, shadows
engulfing his troubled senses afterwards.
Pushing a piece of
debris off of him, he manages to crawl and maneuver his semi naked,
still healing form from underneath the concrete conglomerate and it
feels like being born all over again; only that there’s no relief
flushing the newborn skin but a purpose, a purpose which fuels his
actions other than to keep on breathing. He finally stands on two feet,
breathing deeply and coughing smoke when he sees a wisp of dirty blonde
hair peeking from beneath a fallen column.
This time he’s quicker —
perhaps a direct consequence of there being more oxygen than smoke
feeding his brain — for the task is made simpler with a telekinetic tug,
removing the heavy piece of concrete impaling the body to the ground.
The rest it’s done by hand — and maybe a little bit of desperation — as
Sylar finally digs Claire’s body out from the remains of what was
originally planned to be a peaceful protest that would bring them
together. Would bring him closer to her, Peter had suggested in
that cryptic, laced in naivety way of his when he told him that maybe he
should take his otherwise favored bodyguard place.
An arm is
securely wrapped around her middle and he hoists her up carefully,
pushing strands of hair to the side and focusing on her face. Her eyes
are closed, lips semi-parted and she is pliable in his hands. The
moisture on the back of her skull is still fresh; one finger hooks onto
the metal pole protruding there and yanks it out. He’s not sure how it
got there, but Claire is prone to gruesome incidents and the rest is
unimportant as he waits for her ability to kick in. He traces the skin;
it’s soft and there are no traces of the injury.
She healed but one, two, three minutes (and forty five seconds) pass and she is not waking up.
panics. This is not supposed to happen. He takes in the scene before
him. Concentrates on the facts. She is warm, healed, and yet there are
no signs of living force. He can already imagine Peter’s deafening
shouts, asking, demanding an answer. He can hear his own voice
too, mirroring his friend’s concern. Quieter, subtler, full of zealous
curiosity and eclipsing devotion; by any means, no less urgent.
hugs her body close, the horror, shock and trauma of the event emerging
from his carefully crafted walls. He rests on his haunches and looks
up, the last of the dust and smoke clearing out completely. It’s a brave
William Scully is both Scully’s father and brother.
William Mulder is Mulder’s father. (And they never married so the surname Mulder? No.)
Baby William? What if he’s no longer a baby.
Hybrid!William (that’s just mean)
TXF Love child (we hope)