If He Only Knew - Desmond 2AN: *CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FORGOTTEN ARCHIVES DLC*More Like This
Desmond Miles loved Shaun Hastings with all his being.
That never changed.
But he changed when he was trapped inside the Animus.
For when he was there, he met Clay Kaczmarek, otherwise known as Subject 16.
Desmond had called him crazy, thinking him insane after hearing what the man had done to himself and seen what he'd done to the room Desmond was being kept in at Abstergo.
But now, as Desmond slowly got to learn about him, he thought him nothing but a lost soul.
Sure, Clay was crazy as hell, but it was no wonder knowing what Abstergo had done to him, how they had treated him.
Desmond unravelled Clay's mind bit by bit, sentence by jumbled sentence.
And as he did, he grew to care for him.
In the start, Desmond cared for Clay as a friend, as someone who needed to be taken care of.
At first, he believed he was going batshit insane himself, caring for a memory of
Kiss the... Uh... Boy (AU Nellis Crossover)Nick wasn't usually one for romance, but any excuse to get out of the castle and away from those stuffed shirts breathing down his neck was readily accepted. Not to mention that the present company wasn't all that bad, either. He just couldn't shake the feeling that the silent younger man sitting on the other seat in the boat across from him was someone he knew, someone that he had met before. But surely he would remember it better than this? It almost seemed like he knew him from a dream. Which was just unsettling.More Like This
As he rowed them through the water, every now and then he would look up and catch sight of those blue eyes watching him, but as usual he said nothing, just glanced back down at his lap, tugging at the end of his borrowed shirt, fiddling with his sleeves, looking as though he wanted to say something, but lacked the ability to do so.
Sometimes he would lean forward a little, and then away, and then forward again, and sometimes Nick wanted to lean forward as well to meet him h
Job Offer and House Hunting - Chapter 2 Shaun is surprisingly calm during the interview, even though he had problems falling asleep the night before.More Like This
He answers every question truthfully and the school board seems pleased.
After the interview he’s guided around the campus and meets some of the people he’ll be working with if he gets the job. Shaun even gets to have lunch with them and gets to know a bit from several employees about what it’s like to work there and what it’s like to have students from abroad.
Even though Shaun tries not to, he starts to envision himself working there, sometimes going to the pub after work, the one he’d been to the night before with Desmond.
And that’s another thing he tries not to think about – how Desmond revealed that Bad Weather was his, and that he sold it for Shaun’s sake, so they could afford the penthouse after all.
Shaun’s always been self sufficient, making his own money, not wanting to rely on others, so he does
Gift from the AncestorsI hope this is ok... trying to do a mpreg thingie lolzMore Like This
American terms used lolz
Sorry if things do not make sense or i got spellings wrong and so on...
'Me, fat? Haha, that will be the day.' i think to my self as i ate a ham sandwitch (the first "meal" i have had in almost two days).
'Why are their words affecting me so much even though they are joking? Lucy's words did hurt me though... saying that she asked Rebecca to make the animus bigger for me.' I turn my head at the thought. 'Then again, she said she was joking.' I thought while chewing my sandwhitch with a thinking expression on my face.
I finished eating then thought. 'Ha, Shaun joined in and even rubbed my stomach.' Why do i feel like he is the one who has made me like this.
Great, now i want to be sick....
'Why must life be so hard for me?' I think with a upset expression on my face. Rebecca turns around to say something but then stops to ask me, "Are you alright Desmond?"
I turned towards her and replied,
100themes35. Hold my hand100themes35. Hold my handMore Like This
"Bloody hell. Why does it have to be so freaking freezing down here?"
That was all the surly British Assassin said as he worked diligently over his laptop to finish his information gathering. " Blasted Lucy and Rebecca leaving me here to freeze while they go out to survey in a heated van. Honestly I swear when they get back I am going to give them hell..." Shaun continued this line of grumbling, pushing his glasses up every now and again, never noticing his unannounced visitor as he watched him silently with golden brown eyes. His hands jammed completely into his white hoodie jacket for warmth. Thats one thing he and Shaun can agree on. It was way too damn cold here, and being in an old underground sanctuary in an abandoned villa of his ancestor does NOT help the situation.
The other continued to watch the bespectacled Brit until he heard a light sneeze come from him as he worked. He noticed the grouchy red head wipe at his nose, and cont
Fun Time in the SnowDesmond stretched his arms towards the ceiling, as he sat up in the Animus. Once more, he had spent hours in the Animus, going around as Ezio and liberating the city of Rome. He had really put in a lot of time that week, as things were getting interesting. It usually took a reminder from either Rebecca or Lucy (or a snarky comment from Shaun) to get him to log out and rest. This time, he logged out himself but the girls were nowhere to be found. The lights that were all around the sanctuary were dimmed, and the major light he saw was coming from Shaun's computer with the man at it, of course.More Like This
"Welcome back to the modern world, Desmond." said Shaun, not even looking back, "Lucy and Rebecca have turned in for the night."
"What about you?" asked Desmond, standing up and walking over towards Shaun, grabbing a chair on his way, "Shouldn't you be resting, too?"
"How can I rest, when you managed to collect some good information for once?" Shaun looked over at Desmond, as he sat ne
Just Friends chapter 18"I'm still gonna try and get you that burrito when you go to Rome," Desmond grinned then nuzzled his face into Shaun's chest.More Like This
"Because I just love fatty American food..." Shaun said with an eyeroll before closing his eyes and rubbing up and down Desmond's spine. He felt Desmond roll into the movement and Shaun pinched Desmond's hip. "So...what do you want to do? We have a few more days before our flight home..."
"Fatty Mexican food," Desmond corrected, then gave a thoughtful hum as he propped his chin against Shaun's collarbone. "Hmm...would you rather stay in the warm, or go out in the cold and show me around some more?"
"What more can we do here at the house?" Shaun asked, "We don't really have cable or games or anything here...just food and more food. I mean, we could watch a movie, but we don't have a DVD player or anything. Just Disney movies really."
"Then yeah, let's go see what we can do outside." With that, Desmond stood back up and stretched, walking back up the stairs and mu
Theme Prompt - KissCas stalked into his bedroom in the bunker and slammed the door. It was childish, an act of defiance that calmed him even as he had to laugh at the absurdity of it. After all, he had been a millennia-old angel before he fell. Cas had watched the distant ancestor of human crawl out of the sea and the slow march of evolution that led to humanity in all its terrible glory. The march that had led to Dean Winchester. Throwing himself on the bed, Cas crossed his arms over his chest and glared up at the ceiling. Dealing with human emotions was like riding a rollercoaster and sometimes Cas was overwhelmed. This time, anger at Dean, or maybe about Dean, had sent Cas into the refuge his room had become.More Like This
“I hate this,” Cas muttered for what felt like the hundredth time. He’d been human for a few months now and had only made it back to the bunker three weeks before. Staying away had seemed like the best option at the start. After all, Cas had caused all of this by trusting the wr
(Supernatural) Destiel: Beautiful StrangerThey say that when an angel first presents themselves to you, that you instantly become overwhelmed with tranquility and grace; their glow brighter than that of the Sun, ever blinding yet peaceful.More Like This
Normally, Dean would argue the point. Saying some smart-ass remark that would justify what he was really thinking out loud and making him look like the smart one.
Except this time, he was finding the old saying to be perfectly true.
Because Castiel came to save him.
Shackled and broken, Dean was sentenced to torture beyond the measures of human nature; which consisted of nightmarish deeds that one only saw in horror films--but ten times worse.
His body was proof that, even in the depths of hell, time knew no bounds and no limits to what a tortured soul could endure.
As the angel started to approach, Dean felt his eyes beginning to brim. He never thought he would see something so beautiful, so majestic, that he would feel himself unworthy of being able to look upon such a creature with
Theme Prompt - InnocenceFingers again straying to the scar on his shoulder, Dean stood and called to Castiel.More Like This
"Oh, Castiel," Dean prayed. "I'd really like to talk to you. Can you come down please?" Dean waited patiently, smiling when he realized he had said please. He almost never said that. To anyone. A whirring of wings was Dean's only warning that Castiel has arrived. He turned to look at the angel, fear suddenly closing his throat.
"Hey, Cas," Dean forced past his clenched throat. "Thanks for coming."
"Anytime, Dean," Cas replied, confusion in his voice. "You know I always come when you call." Dean laughed, the unintended double entendre rapidly stirring his nether regions. Castiel only tilted his head at him, uncomprehendingly. Dean shook his head and said, "Never mind Cas. I'll explain later."
Sitting down on the bed, Dean patted the mattress beside him. Castiel sat next to Dean, pulling his trench coat around him like a shield. Dean ached to touch the angel, but knew it was too soon. He isn't even sure
Theme Prompt - Light"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition," Castiel's voice rings through Dean's mind. He absently runs his fingers over the old scar Cas had left on his shoulder. The surprisingly intimate scar of Castiel's handprint. Sometimes, Dean still wonders what it cost the angels, Cas in particular, to get him out of Hell. Unwillingly, his mind went back to that day he struggled up out of the ground.More Like This
Light. That was all Dean could see as he lay panting, half in and half out of the ground. It was blinding and warm and oh-so-welcoming after his time spent in the pit. He breathes it in, hardly daring to believe its true. But then he wonders how he got out. What Sammy did to bring him back. With a groan, Dean pulls himself the rest of the way out of the ground and stumbles towards an old gas station. Inside, he looks for food and something to drink.
All at once, his head feels like its exploding as a strikingly white light fills the room. He hears a high-pitched buzzing and
While in Dartmoor... A Johnlock One ShotCharacters belong to BBC and there's a little bit of language.More Like This
While in Dartmoor, Sherlock found it almost impossible to not note his feelings towards John, romantically or otherwise. It didn't help that, not only were they sharing a room, they were sharing a bed. Of course Sherlock wasn't going to sleep, he had a case, why would he sleep? Utterly ridiculous. But the thing that haunted him most was while he was focusing on all possibilities, until they were no longer worth entertaining, his eyes kept wondering to the shorter man sleeping peacefully next to him. It was extremely distracting, what else should he do? Even though the good doctor had his back to Sherlock, one could not deny that he looked wonderfully and most beautifully peaceful. Sherlock set the case aside for a moment, wrapping his arms around the sleeping man and kissing his neck thoughtlessly.
John let out a sleepy sigh of approval, still locked in a state of sleep, the country air had been doin
Black Rabbit - Part fifteenShiloh sat on the mass of red comforters and pillows in his bedroom, propped up against the headboard, staring across the room at the numerous photos plastered onto the far wall in messy discord as he munched the box of crisps in his lap. He dug his hand deep into the cardboard container, the plastic crinkling; he was nearly to the crumbs and he was still hungry. But it was one of the highest protein things they actually still had at his auntie’s, besides the icky greenery kept away in the veggie drawer downstairs- hidden in the towering fridge. He gave a small little sigh, eyeing the little black cell propped on the whale pillow beside his leg. He really started to miss Casey; they hadn't seen each other in days...well more like three weeks and four extra days to tack on. But he felt needy and afraid that Casey would push him away if he got too close; he loved that angsty raven, but he was scared that he may love him too much and didn’t want to scare him off. All heMore Like This
JohnLock - I Did it For YouSherlock Holmes had never intended to hurt John Watson.More Like This
The consulting detective lacked social skills, and even though he'd lived all those months with his blogger, he hadn't managed to pick up enough to know what was right and what was wrong in those situations.
He did what he had to do in order to save his only friends.
He had learned that when it came to Moriarty, one had to expect the unexpected. So as soon as he figured out he most likely only had one way out, in order to save himself and those he cared about, he started planning. He gained help from Molly which he had not expected. He knew though that without her, it would have been harder to get his plan to work; no one else trusted him.
Sherlock never wanted to hurt John. Because it was HIS John, his in every way apart from the love of lovers.
They loved each other as brothers, as companions, true; but there would never be anything more than that. And it was fine; they did not care, because it is the best kind of lo
JohnLock - His Broken Angel(Read the AN first please)More Like This
When John turns his head and sees Sherlock, he doesn't know what to do at first.
He doesn't know if he should believe him to believe or if he has finally gone complete bonkers after all those years.
But the hand on his shoulder feels real enough... Should he dare to believe?
Should he dare to believe that his long lost friend is back? That he was alive all that time?
John Watson's never been a believer of the supernatural, so that should by his normal standards make this very easy to decide. But his brain is foggy; it's not what it once used to be, so he does not know what to think.
At last, after what seems like hours, but in fact was mere seconds, his brain believes Sherlock to be real, to be there. And once his brain has decided that is the fact; so does his heart.
And when John Watson's heart decides on something, there's no going back.
Sherlock Holmes is real. He is alive and he is right there, behind Joh
Three Hundered and Sixty Five DaysIt had been a year. A year since he had watched Sherlock jump. A year since he had watched Sherlock fall.More Like This
Yes, there had been mourning. Hell, there had been relentless tears, trailing down his face at unexpected moments. There had been solid walls of anger, which he just had wanted to tear down with his bare hands. There had been guilt, near suicidal incidences in fact, which just made him hurt harder.
But he had got over all that. People say he did remarkably well, as he blundered into normal life stony-faced, seemingly unaffected. And he had, really. He hadn't changed on the outside. There was just always that little nagging presence of an empty hole, a space unfilled, hollow.
They had said it would get better, with time. With every hour, every minute, the pain would deteriorate until it was a mere memory. But there never really had been any pain, and it was the memories which ached. Anyway, he had mused angrily to himself, how can something grow back, fit into place if
Sherlock PranksTakes Place After SHERLOCK RETURNS:More Like This
Over the next few days Sherlock and John gathered what they'd need to pull off their prank. Mycroft was able to provide them with the equipment, and once that was done all they had to do was wait. Five days after Sherlock's return, Lestrade phoned John and asked him to come in for a case. John readily agreed and their plan was set in motion. It surprised John somewhat how good-natured Sherlock had been the last five days. Usually he'd have been going crazy from boredom, but for some reason, he hadn't. When he question Sherlock about his lack of childish tantrums Sherlock had blushed slightly and looked away.
Sherlock had, in fact, never been happier. Those five days, of doing absolutely nothing, had been wonderful. For three years Sherlock had spent every waking moment plotting, contemplating, and "playing the game" against Moriarti's people. While doing so, he'd made a startling discovery. Although his mind was occupied constantly with the work, he
Necessary (or, Sherlock Falls)He was right- it is like flying.More Like This
I can't help the way my legs flail, but the pavement isn't approaching as quickly as I thought it would.
My eyes have closed instinctively. I force them open, try to locate John.
I wonder how he'll take it. I won't flatter myself to say he'll be heartbroken. I've helped him heal, and now he'll move on.
We were brought together by mutual need. His need for adrenaline, my need for...fine, I'll admit it. A companion.
Then we just stuck together, like we weren't sure what else to do.
Why isn't the ground here yet?
I remember the moment I realised that he was my friend. And that I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve someone who really cared for my wellbeing, someone who really wanted to be around me, and I didn't need someone like that.
Until he was in danger, and suddenly I did.
I do need him. I don't deserve his friendship, sometimes I don't even want it, but I need it.
Falling, falling. Will I be falling forever? Maybe my thoughts are f
Broken Vow - Mary/JohnMary Morstan had been married to John Watson for a little over six months when his behavior changed; he was rarely home anymore, didn't talk to her like he used to and he seemed happy, something she had been trying to make him since the day they met, almost a year after John lost his beloved Sherlock Holmes.More Like This
She was surprised they even slept in the same bed anymore; he seemed to have forgotten he existed.
Tell me his name
I want to know
The way he looks
And where you go
I need to see his face
I need to understand
Why you and I came to an end
He'd let the word 'he' slip once, but she suspected it was another woman; he wouldn't be like this if it was Greg, and Mycroft had stopped kidnapping him a long time ago.
He never told her anything else; not even slipping small clues as that first one. In fact, he seemed to make very certain she did not figure anything out.
He should be able to tell her thing; share it with her.
Instead, it just felt like their relationship had c