son:

  • me:i love sasuke. i love acknowledging his mistakes and bad qualities bc a good character is a flawed character. i love sasuke uchiha.
  • someone:i hate sasuke!! he's a VILLAIN, and he's SELFISH and not important!! people should NOT love him!!1!
  • me:
  • me:i love sasuke. sasuke uchiha is absolutely perfect. unproblematic fav. incredible. i would give my life for this flawless specimen of a character

Salomon Trismosin - A Three-Headed Monster in an Alchemical Flask representing the Composition of the Alchemical Philosopher’s Stone: Salt, Sulphur and Mercury, “Splendor Solis”, 1532.

30 Day Challenge: Day 26

Prompt: “Yell at me,scream at me, hit me for god’s sake but just do something.”

AN: I’m sorry in advance, and I have tissues if you need them. 

Words: 2240


           “You slept with Talia?” You swallow the words, and they burn more than a shot of whiskey ever could.

           “Yes.”

           The answer is like a punch to the gut, and you do your best to not show the reaction. The tears are burning behind your eyes, and all you want to do is cry. Instead you force the tears back. You try to say something, but nothing comes out.

           Bruce’s fingers glide over your skin and you jerk away. You wrap your arms carefully around yourself. You’re careful to stay out of arms reach. “Y/N, please say something.” There’s several moments of silence before he says “Yell at me, scream at me, hit me, for god’s sake just do something.”

           You look at him, and simply say “I can’t be around you right now.”

           Then without another word you leave the room. You walk quickly pasta sorrowful looking Alfred, and up the stairs to yours and Bruce’s room. You lock the door behind you, and you want to scream. You’re surrounded by mementos of a relationship that’s lasted since you were ten. A romantic relationship that’s lasted since you were fourteen. And looking at it hurts.

           You just act. You pull a suitcase out of the closet, and you pack. You throw clothes in haphazardly. And at some point Bruce starts banging on the door, begging you to let him in. You do, as you leave the room. You simply brush past a stunned Bruce, and down the stairs and to the old jeep that’s sitting there.

           That jeep had been your first car. You had bought it with your own money, and Bruce had kept it in excellent working condition all these years. Your first make out session together had been in this car. You push that memory aside as you throw your bag in, and then climb in yourself. You pull out of the garage as Bruce steps out the door, and despite your best efforts you look back.

           You don’t realize where you’re going until you’re there. By the time you pull up, you’re exhausted both mentally and physically. Your shoulders ace, and you briefly wonder if you’re doing the right thing by coming here. But you know Bruce wouldn’t try coming here, and right now you need that certainty.

           Dick answers the door dressed in sweat pants and nothing else. Your first though is that his hair’s shaggy and it needs a cut. His eyes go wide at the sight of you, and you know why. You haven’t seen him in three years, since his last big fight with Bruce. “Mom?” His voice is shocked, and then he spots your bag, and probably the puffiness of your eyes “What the hell did he do?” His voice goes hard, as he brings you inside.

           You feel silly, and a bit sick. You’re Dick’s mother, and he’s the one taking care of you. You pull out of his grip, and give him your best smile “I’m sorry baby bird. I shouldn’t have some here, I shouldn’t drag you into this.”

           You turn to leave, but his Dick’s voice stops you. “Mama. Don’t go.”

           You turn to face your oldest son again, and his arms wrap around you, and you finally let out the tears. Dick holds you while you cry, and all you can think about is how tall he’s grown.

           You don’t speak that night, you just lie on his couch and stare at the ceiling. You wake up as he comes out of his bedroom, still dressed in his pajamas. You give a small smile “Don’t you have work?”

           He sits down next to you “I called out. Figured you might need me.”

           You smile a true smile now “My concerned baby bird. Always so sweet. You shouldn’t have to take care of your mother.”

           He kisses your cheek “Everyone needs taking care of sometimes, even moms.”

           You don’t say another word as he moves around the kitchen. You take a moment to look at his apartment. It’s big, and messy, and there are clothes everywhere. You walk into the kitchen as he pours you a cup of coffee. He sits down across from you and finally asks “What did he do mom?”

           You take a deep breath “He has a son.” The words taste like acid in your mouth.

           “What?”

           “A ten-year-old little boy. His name is Damian, his mother is Talia Al Ghul, and he’s the spitting image of your dad.”

           “Mom, the man has a lot of faults. He’s cold and distant. He has major control issues, and very rarely can let go of anything bad. But despite all of that he loves you. More than anything. I mean you’re the only one who he lets talk sense into him. Clark calls you when he goes off his rocker I mean … why?”

           You shrug, “I honestly don’t know Dick. And to be honest I didn’t stick around to listen. I was just so hurt, and so …I honestly don’t know.”

           Dick nods “Well you can stay here as long as you like. I know the place is a mess, but I’ll clean it today, and I promise I’ll put all my clothes in the hamper.”

           You just smile at him, but he sees how it doesn’t reach your eyes. It’ll be several nights later, as you’re cooking dinner that Dick slides in through the window. “You’re back early.”

           He grins at you “I’m not alone either.” You turn a bit in surprise to see Tim and Jason slide in after Dick. You smile, and turn the pot down to simmer, and you hug your boys. It’s the first time you’ve seen either of them in about a year. They hug you, and you sit down to dinner together. They keep the conversation surprisingly light until Jason says “We should probably tell you while we’re here.”

           You stop eating at that “Dick didn’t call you?” You ask slowly.

           Tim puts down his fork “Bruce sent us.”

           You take a deep breath as Jason continues “Found his brat getting ready to kill a thug named Nobu. Tim stopped him, and called me in when he claimed to be Bruce’s son. We may not see each other often anymore, but you email and call about the important things. I figured you’d do the same if this was true.”

           “We called Bruce in, and he explained, how Damian is his biological son, but not yours.”

           You swallow thickly “Did he say anything else.”

           Jason shakes his head “Nope. And I can honestly say that neither of us were in a talking mood after that. We hightailed it over here, to see what Dick knew, and sure enough, he confirmed you were here.” There’s a moment of silence before Jason throws his napkin on the table “I just don’t get it. Why go to her to have a baby? I mean if he wanted a kid that badly he could have used a surrogate, or something else, I just don’t get it.”

           “Explains a lot though.” Dick says “Why we were never good enough. We weren’t his.”

           “No.” They all look at you, at the sound of the word. “Um, before any of you came along we tried for several years to have a baby. We both wanted it, you know. But I couldn’t hold a pregnancy. I had three different miscarriages, and it nearly killed me each time. Both literally and figuratively. After the third one I had an emergency hysterectomy. I was in bed for weeks with depression. Bruce never left my side. He told me how beautiful I was, and how strong I was, and that we would be okay just the two of us. And the thing is I know he meant it. I’ve always known when he’s lied to me, and when he’s telling the truth, and he was telling the truth.”

           You take a deep breath and look to Dick “My first trip out after the procedure was to the circus. He wanted to take me somewhere fun, and we had gone years before, and just had a blast. So we went, and then your parents died, and I saw in you what I saw in Bruce all those years ago. A lost little boy who needed something. And Bruce, well he went straight to you, and I watched as he tried to shield you, and something in me clicked, you were meant to come home with us. You were one of the missing pieces.”

           The tears start falling after that “I felt that click with each of you. And I thanked God for each of you. And Bruce, Bruce was ecstatic to have you boys around. I know he didn’t always show it but he was. He’d talk about you guys when we were alone, everything you had accomplished in school, and on patrols. He keeps these scrapbooks of all the stuff you boys do, both in your civilian lives, and after hours.”

           Tim’s voice is quiet “You never told us that.”

           You smile “Things turned out how they were supposed to with you guys. You’re our sons, and that will never change.”

           “Are other things going to change?” Jason asks

           You swallow “That’s going to depend on your father. I have some thinking to do. In the meantime, I want you three to go help him. Something is going on, and he very well might need your help.”

           They all nod and Tim just says “We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

           You wait for him in your bedroom. And he’s more than a little surprised to see you, but he doesn’t question it. He simply takes a seat on the bed next to you. You sit in silence for half an hour before you finally ask “What really happened Bruce? And I mean the real version, not some self-sacrificing one.”  

           He doesn’t give a self-sacrificing one, he simply looks you in the eyes and says “She drugged me. Slipped something in my drink when I was there for a mission eleven years ago. It made me do whatever she wanted.”

           You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding “A date rape drug.”

           “Essentially yes.”

           You lick your lips “I’m so freaking selfish. The fact that that makes me happy. I’m a horrible person.”

           Bruce takes your hand “Why? Because you hear that it wasn’t by choice that I was unfaithful, that it wasn’t because I chose someone else? Personally I’m relieved. Because I would never want to do anything to hurt you. Ever.

You take a deep breath “I’ve signed us up for counseling, with Lee. Twice a week, possibly more if she thinks we need it. We have an issue hear Bruce, and we need help.”

           He clutches your hand and simply says “I’m there. Every single time. I will be there. I don’t want to lose you Y/N. I love you, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

           You lean forward and wrap your arms around him, and his own wrap around you. You sink into his embrace, and you allow yourself to cry. And when Bruce’s sobs echo your own, you can’t help but think it’ll all work out. Because he was telling the truth. He loves you. He wants you. And you know that he never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t hurt.

           You meet Damian for the first time that night; when you can’t sleep and you slip out of bed and down to the kitchen. You find him sitting at the island staring into the backyard. His head turns towards you the minute you step into the kitchen.

           “You must be Mrs. Wayne.”

           You nod “You must be Damian.”

           He nods, and you take a seat across from him “So, how much hell am I in for?”

           You raise an eyebrow in question “Excuse me?”

           “My mother says that’s why I wasn’t allowed to see my father, because you would punish me for his unfaithfulness.”

           You laugh “Your mother is a piece of work kid. But, none of this is your fault.”

           He leans forward “So you don’t hate me to your very core?”

           You shake your head “You, no. Your mother is a different story in this case.”

           “Well at least one of you doesn’t hate me.”

           You smile “Your father doesn’t hate you Damian. He’s never been able to hate his children. He’s never been especially good at expressing love for them either, but it’s there. And he wouldn’t have fought to keep you, if there wasn’t something there.”

           He raises an eyebrow in question “So certain about that?”

           You nod “So certain, that he gambled sixteen years of marriage, and three kids on it.”

           Damian sighs “My father is an idiot.”

           You shrug “He has his moments, but I love him.”

           He simply nods and slides from his stool, “Very well, Mrs. Wayne. I’ll see you in the morning.”

           You smirk “Call me Y/N, I’m only Mrs. Wayne when you get in trouble at school.”

           Damian doesn’t say another word. When you slide back into bed, it’s to find Bruce awake. You just turn to him and say “There was a click.”

           He strokes your cheek “Always with the click.”

           You lean in and kiss him “It tells me everything I need to know.”

12 Months To Live - January

Summary: A diagnosis of cancer turned around your and Dean’s life. It was too late to fully cure it, so Dean decided to go after all your wishes and make your last year the best one ever.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 1048

Originally posted by deangifsdaily

Warnings: slight angst

A/N: This is the first part to a new series. This series will have 12 parts (maybe 13 and you’ll see why;)) and it will have fluff, smut, lots of angst in it and yeah, be prepared for heartbreak. Feedback is appreciated!
So I went against my will of writing everything first, cause I’m too impatient but yeah. I will probably post every second day, so I still might be able to be a little ahead with writing and all that. Enjoy!

Italics are flashbacks!

12 Months To Live - Masterpost


“Happy New year, sweetheart,” Dean whispered into your ear as the two of you watched the fireworks go off.

“Happy last year,” you smiled up at him while his face was filled with sadness, even though he kept his smile on for you.

“It’s okay Dean, it’s just how it is,” you assured him before capturing his lips into yours.

At first you struggled with the diagnosis of cancer and only having one year to live. Though if you said twelve months, it sounded much longer. You were broken and didn’t know what to do, should you just run away? But from what? There was no running away from death, not in your case.

Keep reading

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make me choose: @chaoticroad asked ▷ charles xavier or erik lehnsherr

“So many years wasted fighting each other Charles…to have a precious few of them back…”