#ants go marching fic

[aellivi]

Messy sketch comic!! Background... no

When your small drug dealer brings you water instead of mushrooms

[the-jarsest]

Hey, so I made a fanfic about Sozo.

All of the side quests in cotl are fucked up in one way or another, and Sozo’s was honestly the most conflicting doom march for me. So I wrote this to cope lmao. It’s kind of a character study on how I think Sozo and the Lamb’s relationship would be if they they hadn’t solely interacted in Sozo’s comfort zone.

The fic begins after the Lamb gives him 10 mushrooms, then forgets about his questline altogether for months. Everything is platonic, and additional warnings for cult-related content, addiction, symptoms of withdrawal, and drug use. I’d love to hear any thoughts you might have!

Hope you enjoy!

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 25

sorry this one took so long. unfortunately no sloppy homoeroticism this chapter, it was getting too long so i broke it up

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

can you kids get on with the next trial yet

my computer crashed like three different occasions while writing this so i fear it may be time to retire this google doc

@digitaldollsworld i owe u my life

Content warning tags: more issues with shaving and a shaving razor, canon-typical Monokuma cartoon violence, gun mention for aforementioned Monokuma antics, Monokuma-typical bullying (Monokuma as the bully, not the bully-ee)

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Contrary to popular belief; Byakuya does know what defeat is like.

And if asked about it, he would, of course, declare it all as part of a grander plan. A blip in the greater scheme of his life, a tactical retreat, losing a battle to gloriously win a war. And it wouldn’t be wholly untrue, for most of them; for every time he had had to back down, it always culminated in an opportunity to lower his opponents’ defenses, to bide his time before striking back fiercer, sharper, more decisive. The fact of his status now is proof of that.

So no, he’s never lost, never even truly tasted failure. How could he, Byakuya Togami, possibly even know the meaning of the word?

But the truth that he might only ever admit to himself - on days when his reflection looks a little too fragile, and the commoners around him are a little too near, too human for comfort - was that he was well aware of what defeat felt like. Like a cloying, oily sensation that clings to his skin, stubborn and agitating, refusing to be dislodged no matter how hard he scratches, like trying to quell some stubborn itch. Suffocating and irritating all at once, like ants marching in his loose-fitting skin. A constant uneasiness. Paranoia.

He had felt it often when he was younger, more stupid, more naive. Back when he foolishly thought it was the natural order of things for children to be shielded from unpleasant things, those strange and frightening concepts of death and betrayal, and would get so torn up in the aftermath of every little trauma that even Pennyworth would grow exasperated, ceasing his coddling and shoving him onward insteads.

He thought he’d forgotten it, but now he finds himself overly familiar with that feeling. Now, it was almost tedious - he’d be bored of it, if it wasn’t absolutely and hair-tearingly frustrating.

He slams the mirrored door of his bathroom cabinet shut, and hears its contents rattle and fall over. It was going to be hell when he opened it again, had to find or identify any of those tiny bottles by smell, but he didn’t care. The other alternative would have been to throw the razor, now sitting innocently and safely folded on the sink counter, and there are a whole slew of reasons why he shouldn’t do that, with the most fleeting, irrational one being that Pennyworth would click his tongue.

(God, Pennyworth. All servants had to be considered disposable, but he never thought he would miss that old man and his meddling so much.)

The cuts on his jaw sting as he splashes water over his face again, furiously scrubbing his hands down his cheeks. It was another failure again today; he had a feeling he was beginning to look rather shabby, given the unfamiliar prickling he can feel when he runs his fingers over his chin and upper lip, contrasting the stinging, sticky smoothness of his cheeks. The thought of being seen like this made him want to hide, and the thought of hiding himself away forever felt like shameful surrender, with no reassuringly great scheme to fall back on.

This is ridiculous. He reprimands himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. That now-familiar, still-infuriating mass of fuzzy yellow hovers back. It’s just one simple task. I still have my hands, and I can do this much.

As if mocking him, a thin, blurred line of blood immediately begins to track down his face, from near where his reflection’s ear should be. He slaps a hand to it, digs his fingers into the cut, and lets out a hiss between his teeth, more out of anger than the actual pain.

But the pain does its job in steadying him, focusing his thoughts. Enough! He needs to make up his mind, either to keep trying or go do something else. He’s spent too long holed up in his room, and he needs to eat and do something without relying on the unwanted, well-meaning pity of stupid individuals, and maybe show his face enough so the others don’t identify him as some strange, pathetic little hermit. He needs to get some new books from the library, having already read and reread a number of the old ones. He should do any number of things, instead of acting so paralyzed, so-

“Stuck, ain’tcha?”

He spins so fast he almost slips on the tile, hands slamming against the sink behind him to steady himself, wincing as his hip collides with the porcelain. Monokuma, that hateful little bastard, is standing in the doorway of his bathroom, head tilted in a mockery of concern. “Gosh, you look like-”

“Shut up,” He snaps, immediately, reflexively. A stupid move maybe, but the bear made it so easy to forget he was dangerous by sheer effort of being insufferable.

“Whaat? Such words you’re saying to your headmaster!” It gasps, and shakes its head. “Can’t a bear be a little concerned for its lil�� cubs? I do all this for ya, and this is how you talk to me! ...Oh, but I guess I never did respect my momma either at your age, I really oughta give her a call…”

It’s almost comical, the way it goes from shock, to stomping its feet is exaggerated anger, to immediately wilting with gloom. Distantly, Byakuya thinks that whatever technology is responsible for puppeting the thing must be very advanced, but that’s hardly his biggest concern. “Get out,” He says instead, voice clipped and rasping out of his throat. He hasn’t been taking as many fluids as he should, and the water from the bathroom tap always tastes a little too sulfuric for him.

“And now he’s in his rebellious phase! Oh momma, I knew I should’ve treated you better!” Monokuma wails, almost convincingly distraught. “Oh…but, I guess I’ll do as she did and treat you sweet anyways. It sure ain’t easy raising all you little whippersnappers, y’know?

“Anyways,” And it perks up, cheery again. “I just wanted to give you a lil’ heads up on today’s itinerary! I noticed that all of you’ve been a liiiitle stressed lately, so I wanted to treat all of you to something nice!” The words immediately set the hairs on the back of Byakuya’s neck on end. Something ‘nice’ from Monokuma could never mean something good. “Puhu…now, I did send out the message in the form of paper notes, y’know, go all retro to mix things up a bit - but then I remembered that that just wouldn’t be fair to all of us, and we just can’t have the meeting until we’re all present! So I came all the way over here, just for you, to deliver the message face-to-face!”

It’s an oddly considerate action on Monokuma’s part. So considerate, in fact, that Byakuya immediately hears alarm bells begin to ring in his head. “...When and where is this meeting,” He says, slowly.

“Well, in the gymnasium! Figured there was no need to break out the velvet carpet for just the ten of ya. And as for when, ah…” It looks at its wrist, taps at it. “Ten minutes ago!”

He reaches behind him and grabs the nearest object - the razor - and hurls it. It bounces off the tile with a loud crack, the silver blade flying open, but Monokuma dances backwards, out of range. “Whoa, careful! I’d hate to punish you for doin’ property damage! Someone might get hurt!”

“Out.” He all but roars, while at the same time scrambling. He nearly trips as he goes, narrowly avoiding stepping on the razor, hands scrabbling at the door frame to keep himself upright. He’s still dressed in his pajamas, and he digs through his drawers for a clean change - he can hear Monokuma cackling, delighted, but he hardly has time to pay the bear any mind as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, haste turning his fingers clumsy.

“Better hurry! They’ve been waiting awhile, and I made sure they couldn’t leave ‘til you showed up!” Monokuma taunts from behind him, somewhere near the entrance. He turns over his shoulder to spit something, some insult, but-

He blinks, pausing. The backdrop of his room greets him, yellow and green and mahogany and maroon, but no jarring black-white. The bear is gone, as suddenly as it had appeared, and he actually glances around, as if expecting to see it hiding somewhere ridiculous. Under his bed, maybe, or in his wastebasket? Waiting for an opportunity to jump out at him again.

He’s so distracted by this for a moment he almost forgets the more pressing issue at hand, which was trying to retain some of his ruined dignity, as best as he could possibly manage. He dresses as quickly as possible, no time for his tie, suspenders, or jacket; he’s slipping on his shoes while smoothing down his shirtfront at the same time, trying to make sure his buttons were properly matched, and is halfway down the hall before he realizes he hadn’t even heard Monokuma leave.

—

He makes it to gymnasium in record time, taking only a few seconds to calm his breathing and try and work his hair into something presentable, and to wait for his face to stop feeling so warm. There’s something large, rectangular and olive-gray pointed towards the doors, set up on a tripod, and for a moment it reminds Byakuya of a telescope - and then he nears it, and reflects that it might actually be a turret, aimed directly at the exit doors.

‘Made sure they couldn’t leave’, was it? He thinks, remembering Monokuma’s words, though he gives the thing a wide berth as he steps around it.

The others are already there, and they turn to him as he pushes the door open. They all look-

…Well, more or less the same as usual. Shapes and colors. Though Fukawa is sprawled flat and cross-armed on the ground like a child in a tantrum, and has her tongue lolling, so she’s probably Syo at the moment; that suspicion is confirmed when she sits up and spouts a stream of crude nonsense at him in greeting, which he immediately tunes out. And Asahina and Ogami are pressed shoulder to shoulder, or as much as they can be, with their height difference. Owada stands stiffly at a parade’s rest, hands clasped behind his back, facing dead ahead. His biker jacket is gone, as is his pompadour; his hair is limp and tied behind his head, and he’d somehow colored it black. It also looks much shorter than it should be. 

“You’re late!” Owada barks as he enters, which he also ignores, though it’s much harder than with Syo. He doesn’t like looking at Owada, or hearing him for that matter, but his loudness and size made both things rather difficult.

Kirigiri looks utterly unchanged. Standing a little distanced from the rest of them, arms crossed. She’s not facing him, but he has the feeling she’s watching anyways, peering from the corner of her eyes. Besides her is Makoto, standing maybe a little meter away, and much less subtle in his watching. He jumps up as Byakuya nears, making a half-aborted sound like he wants to say something, but then stifling it at the last moment.

Byakuya hesitates for an instant, caught by the inexplicable urge to go up to him, when-

“To- dude!” Someone calls from behind him, and he almost jumps, whipping behind him to scowl. At least Hagakure had hesitated before finishing whatever stupid nickname he was about to bestow on him, on top of Monokuma’s public humiliation. “Where were you? We were buzzing your doorbell and everything!”

Were they? He hadn’t heard a thing; he glares up towards the stage, to the only possible reason why that may be. Monokuma was already perched at his podium, rocking side to side and looking as innocent as can be.

“What’s the meaning of this,” He demands, ignoring Hagakure entirely. His throat still feels reedy, his voice a little too hoarse for his liking, but it carries loud and clipped in the hollow ceiling of the gymnasium, making it sound much more steady than he feels.

“Didn’t you get the memo, Mr. Togami? I delivered it myself ‘n everything, you know!” Monokuma puts its hands on its hips, shaking its head. “Really, just ‘cuz you’re in the prime of your life, doesn’t mean you oughta slack off, y’hear!”

Byakuya sorely wishes he had another object at hand to throw. As it is, he clenches his hands tight to keep from trembling too obviously; somehow, Monokuma had the ability to make him lose all rationality by sheer rage alone. Or maybe that was the stress, fraying all his sensibilities. Or maybe just his eyes again, the damnable source of it all.

He doesn’t get to say anything in rebuke, however. No sooner did he open his mouth, was Makoto already jumping to his defense: “You’re the one who’s singling him out!” He shouts, all fury and bluster. “You used written letters specifically to harass him!”

“Why, why, Mister Makoto, what is this j’accuse!” Monokuma gasps, as if the idea of tormenting any one student was unthinkable. “Why on earth would you think I was targeting him?”

“Because-” And then he stops, throttling himself halfway through the sentence with a choked-off sound. And Byakuya knows perfectly well why, and could almost picture the horrified, guilty look that the other boy must be throwing at him right now.

It’s a ridiculous sentiment. The damage had already been done during the trial, and avoiding any mention of it now couldn’t undo those actions; if anything, it makes him look even more fragile than before, ego teetering on his miserable condition.

“Er…” Yamada says timidly, breaking the quiet. “I’d rather not see this kind of subplot development right now, it’s kind of out of place with the current tone…”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout, ya uncultured chestnut! I’m eatin’ this up!” Syo snaps at him, rocking back and forth with her hands on her ankles. “This is better than my American TV-action-drama dramas!”

“Enough of this,” Ogami cuts in, firm and composed. “Monokuma. You called us here for a reason. But know whatever it is you’re planning, we will not break.”

There’s a small chorus of agreement that follows that. Asahina in particular, pipes up with a fervent “that’s right!”, and even Kirigiri nods her head, just once.

The bear giggles, hiding its stark grin behind its paws. “Now, now, no need to get all defensive, puhu! I've decided to change things up a bit this time. Up till now, I've been using sticks and the whoosh of the North Wind to get you all moving…but I think it’s the carrot’s time to shine! …Though, I’d much rather have a nice, fat salmon, but whatever!”

And it spreads its little arms, and in the next moment, something large and red falls from the ceiling and thwaps loudly onto the table.

There are gasps, some yelps, and a surprised squeal from Syo as the red flutters away to reveal…well, a mound of pale yellowy-green. Even without being able to discern any more details besides that, Byakuya can guess what it is.

“Here it is! A nice, hot sun to light a fire under your butts, in the form of a cool, ten mill-lee-on buckaroos!” Monokuma crows, barely even visible behind the stacks of bills. “A graduation gift for the lucky student that makes it out alive! Like, wowie zowie, amiright??”

So this was the next motive, was it? Byakuya feels his lip curling. “That’s hardly anything,” He says, disgustedly.

“Holey moley! S’that all real!?” Syo shrieks, completely drowning him out. “I mean, s’not like I can use it when I’m the Waldo to every cop’s where, but damn!”

“When it comes to motives, money certainly is the gold standard.” Kirigiri muses. “As is the case in most mystery novels, and the real world.”

“B-but,” Asahina speaks up hesitantly. “There’s…there’s no way we’d kill each other for money! …Right?”

It seems that some part of her was still shaken, since the last trial. Or maybe she couldn’t help being meek before Monokuma, who had killed several of their classmates in a rather violent manner at this point. In a different life he might have sneered and called that pathetic, but in the present moment he couldn’t help but feel like he understood.

It’s still pathetic though, he thinks to himself regardless. “Don’t forget what happened last time. We can’t judge others by our personal standards.” He says instead, harshly, and he doesn’t miss the way Owada flinches, composure flickering.

“Um. Well…that amount’s nothing, anyways!” Hagakure shouts, with a nervous edge in his words. “Ten million, hundred million, I don’t give a crap! Seriously!” 

“That’s right,” Ogami says, voice measured. “You can’t put a price on a person’s life.”

There are a few more similar platitudes uttered, as everyone tries to convince themselves that such an amount wouldn’t sway them. Yamada boasts something about ‘comiket’ and his subscriber count. Celeste chuckles as she describes the accumulation of her personal winnings. Syo…declares that she has no need for it, given that ‘Gloomy makes enough outta her little scribblings to keep us both in velvet if she really wanted! ‘Sides, if that ever tanks I could always just find some handsome fellas and bleed ‘em dry!’ which reassures no one.

Byakuya hardly pays them any mind, instead focusing on how Makoto and Kirigiri have stayed silent this whole time. The latter is to be expected, but the former…

Surely he’s not considering it. He’d refused Byakuya when he first offered him whatever wealth he wanted, back when they were initially agreeing upon the deal. There couldn’t have been anything that would’ve changed his mind since then-

No. There would’ve been. Byakuya feels his blood running cold. Hadn’t he rescinded his initial promise to ensure the safety of Makoto’s family, immediately following the second trial? Despite whatever good intentions there had been behind Makoto’s actions, hadn’t they gone punished instead of rewarded? Would that be enough to break his resolve about killing?

No, he still has Kirigiri. And he still has some kind of regard for me, if he’s so insistent on his meddling. The bread at his doorway, and Hagakure’s intervention was proof of that. He wouldn’t cast us aside so readily…would he?

“Wow, really~?” Monokuma giggles, drawing him out of his thoughts. “It’s sooo cute watching y’all try to act tough…well, good luck then! Have fun with your pure and communal lives!” It cackles, hops off the platform, and waddles off to disappear backstage. The money stays where it is, gaudy with the sheer amount of it. Byakuya has the irrational temptation to walk up and shove it all off the table.

The others are beginning to talk amongst themselves again, exchanging uneasy reassurances and nervous accusations. Owada is loudly declaring how ‘money is the root of all evil’ to an uncomfortable Hagakure. Syo is demanding proof that Ogami doesn’t have some debt racked up over illegal doping, with Asahina having to be held back. Yamada is being dragged off by Celeste, his protests going unheard.

None of it is of the utmost importance however, as he turns towards the door. Kirigiri and Makoto are already making their exit, so he follows them, just a few meters behind.

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[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Spring round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Spring Fest will run from March 3rd - April 6th in celebration of Spring, whether you are excited about the renewal of life and spring blooms or traveling for Spring Break, there’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs. 

We also have a Discord you can join.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Spring Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! There is no minimum word count for your fics. We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in!  This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. We can only reblog on Tumblr and Re-Tweet on Twitter (we are @sterekfests on Twitter also).  If you post on another site other than Tumblr, Twitter, or Ao3, you can send us a link and we can post it here on the fest blog for you. Use the tags #sterekfestsspring2024, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestsicecream, #sterekfestsbeach, #sterekfestspicnic, #sterekfestsharvest

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions. You can find our Summer, Fall, and Winter collections also if you’d like to add to those collections.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome Spring theme weeks ahead!

March 3 - 9: Spring Break

Spring break mode: activated! Stiles and Derek are ready to make some unforgettable memories. The plan? Maybe a road trip through the scenic routes of California. Or maybe they spend the week in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature's serenity. They could go hiking, take long walks, and at night, gather around a campfire, share stories, or just enjoy the peacefulness. It's all about stepping away from the usual hustle and bustle and reconnecting with each other and the great outdoors.

March 10 - 16: Ice Cream Crawl

What better way to beat the heat and stress of their supernatural lives than an ice cream crawl? Maybe Derek and Stiles spend their day hitting up different ice cream shops across Beacon Hills as they hunt for the most mouth-watering flavors. Or maybe they venture out of town, finding secret spots and hole-in-the-wall parlors, sampling the eclectic mix of frozen delights from vendors who boast an array of international and exotic ingredients. Either way, they're sure to map out a route that would make any sweet tooth swoon.

March 17 - 23: Beach

It’s time to ditch the winter blues and bring on the ultimate beach parties. Perhaps Derek and Stiles decide to make the most of their day building sandcastles together, or maybe they go for a swim and try boogie boarding? They could walk along the shore and collect unique seashells or relax on their beach towels and soak up the sun. Wherever you take Stiles and Derek this spring, they’re sure to be excited for their beach adventure, enjoying the sun, sand, and waves.

March 24 - 30: Picnic Anywhere

With Spring comes lush, vibrant landscapes filled with new life…and ants. There’s sun-warmed skin along with sweet fragrant flowers blooming, which means it’s time to have some Spring fun! Perhaps Stiles and Derek are having a picnic at the newly rebuilt Hale house, or are enjoying a meadow speckled with wildflowers in the preserve. It could be perfect or a complete disaster if it’s interrupted by Spring showers. Only you can share with us where Stiles and Derek are having picnics this Spring! 

March 31 - April 6: Spring Harvest Festival

Spring has arrived and it’s time to enjoy all the local harvest festivals have to offer! Maybe Stiles and Derek visit a local farmers market to check out the produce for the season, or they run a table or booth there. Perhaps Stiles and Derek are taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt with all the pack kids during a spring festival. There are so many options, including games, food, crafts, and anything else you can imagine that can be enjoyed during a Spring Festival! Show us what Stiles and Derek are doing this Spring!

@thebigbangblogproject @teenwolffandomevents @sterekevents

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this epilogue, Giles finds her way home.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Touledy's Epilogue. Erridge's Epilogue. End. Words: 2,400. Rating: all audiences.)

Epilogue: Giles

Inquisition troops marched through field and farmland, nothing more than a movement north, bound for the Waking Sea and Free Marches beyond.

That was the story Jader had been told, and that was the story Jader had believed. With the assent of its rulers, such movement was permitted. But they had no idea that, amongst those simple-looking soldiers, the missing daughter of Samient walked.

The site of her ‘disappearance’ would have been discovered, by now. The Duke’s guard would be crawling all over it, like so many ants upon a fresh carcass. The Inquisition would be all apology, offering whatever help they could—but the blame would ultimately lie with her father. He hadn’t sent her with a guard, the other nobles would say. What could he expect?

Giles felt the guilt of it strongly. Every step she took, she questioned whether this was the right path. But she reminded herself, of what waited at its end. This would be worth it.

“Almost there,” Loranil told her. “If the others have already arrived, then we’ll be meeting at the docks. All right?”

Giles nodded. “Thank you. Thank you for doing this.”

Loranil smiled. “Not the sort of mission I expected when I joined the Inquisition—but I don’t mind it. I think it’s more pleasant than most of the soldiers have had, anyway.”

That much was true. They’d exchanged stories with Giles on the way, usually whilst bedding down for the night. She only believed half of them. No way had Troubridge fought a giant and lived to tell the tale, let alone done so without being raised in rank!

Though it did put her own situation in comparison. There had been no giant-killing on their journey, thank the Maker. In fact, their greatest danger was this. Jader. The last of Orlais she would see, the most likely place for her to be recognised. Best keep the helmet on tight.

But it served its purpose well enough. They walked the streets of the city with no resistance. Guards nodded them through, residents stopped to watch them walk by. A child stared with such wonder, it was as if the Inquisitor was the one striding past instead.

Unhindered, they made it to the docks—a bustling shipyard, adorned with grand vessels, ready to sail the Waking Sea. The abundance of Orlesian heard throughout the city melted away, and left instead were a mixture of tongues, flying between sailors of varying origin.

With a quiet word of confirmation to the dockmaster, the Captain of Giles’ retinue led them where they needed to go. A ship, moored on the third dock to the right. That was where the other Inquisition had gathered.

Giles’ heart pounded against her chest. They rounded a corner, and saw a group of soldiers scattered across crates and barrels, leaning and sitting and talking and relaxing. She halted in her tracks. Her eyes scanned the face of each and every single one. Until—

All went quiet. A soldier stood.

“Giles?”

He took the helm from his head, and revealed the man beneath. Vichy. Her Vichy.

She had feared this moment greatly. That the war might’ve changed him, that he might be beyond recognition. But every fear fell away when she saw him.

It was the smiling face she knew; the deep brown skin and muscled arms; the same rich black hair—though his curls and coils had been cut shorter than she recalled. It didn’t matter. It was him.

“Vichy,” she breathed.

Her feet took off running before she had even realised it. He was ready for her, arms open. She collided with him, embrace so powerful that her helm was knocked from her head, to skitter across the ground.

It didn’t matter. It was him.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept, clutching him tighter than she ever had before. “This was my fault.”

“Don’t you worry,” he whispered, “it’s my fault, really.”

“How? How could any of this be your fault?”

“Well, a bastard son of an elf can’t really meddle with the Duke’s daughter and expect to get away with it, can he? You’re trouble, Giles. Beautiful trouble.”

She smiled. If there was any undeniable proof that this was her Vichy, it was this—for he never could take a single situation seriously. She was glad that that had not been taken from him. It was that very attitude that had her broken in the first place.

“My father should never have done this to you,” she told him. For, as much as she adored it, this was no time for his jokes.

“I chose to go,” he replied, kissing the tears from her cheek. “Besides, with what the Inquisition lot have told me about the Commander, I think you got the worse end of the deal. I have every respect for the man, given what he’s done for us—but Creators, he sounds boring.”

Giles chuckled. “His presence made me miss yours all the more. We should have run.”

Vichy held her close, serious for the first time in his life: “No. I would have agreed to anything your father offered, to keep you safe.”

“But every moment without you I have been in danger of myself.”

She felt his head shake, against hers. “Come now, none of that. I’m here. I’m here.”

He was. If only to prove it, if only to know it was real, if only to make it complete—she kissed him. Any lingering doubts fled, in the wake of that kiss. She had made the right decision.

An unfortunately public one, for a cheer went up—from a few of the soldiers, who were swiftly reprimanded by their Captain—and Giles was suddenly reminded that they were not alone.

Vichy laughed at them. “All right, pay up!” he called. “Whoever said she wouldn’t show, you owe me a crown!”

Giles chuckled. With the distraction, she could part to find her helm—though she did not have to look for long. It was already discovered, in the hands of Loranil, who’d prevented it from rolling away.

“Best get this back on,” he said, handing it over, “we’re not in the Free Marches yet.”

***

They arrived in the Marches days later, to rendezvous with the Inquisition base in Kirkwall. The majority of the retinue would sequester themselves within, for few were permitted to travel on to Sumara.

The Clan was last traced to Planascene Forest, where it had shrouded itself since the troubles of the Breach. Inquisition scouts had confirmed its location, and offered the Clan a warning: more Inquisition were bound, seeking to return a lost daughter.

The Clan had given no reply—except to say that they were waiting.

That sense of anticipation was felt throughout Planascene. Ancient trees shadowed the path, so that daylight could barely break through. Swaying leaves atop the canopy never quite settled into silence. Giles felt watched. As if the Creators themselves now weighed her worth. What if they rejected her?

But such concern was halted, by the touch of a hand slipping into her own. Vichy.

“Chanter to E-4,” he whispered, with a smile.

Oh. Not a valid opening move. Unless…

“Are you referring to our game from the boat?” asked Giles.

They’d had to pass the time over the Waking Sea somehow, and they always did their best talking over a game of chess. Lucky for them, the skipper had a board.

“I am,” said Vichy. “I was about to win, and the fact of our journey’s end was quite convenient for you, I’d say.”

“Empress to E-4, capture,” Giles replied, quite in disagreement.

Vichy chuckled anyway. Giles did not truly think that he had restarted the game for his own glory. No, it made for a perfect distraction, and she was grateful for it.

It also served as a reminder. No matter what happened in the next few hours, she had him. They had each other. That was enough. That was more than enough.

Trees gave way to boulder-like stone, too purposefully-carved to be merely natural—likely some kind of ruins. The largest of its old columns towered over them, defiant in its continued existence. Loranil, treading carefully, raised his hands. To the stones, he called out, in Elven:

“Hold! We are friends!”

Movement, atop the ruins. A pair of elves, dressed in the leather of hunters, and carrying bows as tall as their bodies, made themselves known. They asked something of Loranil, to which he gave a hasty answer. Though they seemed unsure, one withdrew, and disappeared beyond the ruins.

“I’ve asked for their Keeper,” Loranil explained to Giles, before sweeping his eyes across the soldiers behind her. “Keep your weapons sheathed,” he warned.

The soldiers nodded, stepping a pace back. The hunter who’d remained watched them, carefully.

It was some time—a half-hour at least—before the other finally returned to their perch. Yet, more movement came with them. Out, from betwixt the ruins, emerged an elven man. He was of middle age, at least, with pale skin and paler hair. The robes he wore were unmistakably elaborate, the staff he bore thrumming with magic. The attire of a Keeper.

Though Giles did not understand it, he asked something of her. Loranil stepped in:

“Yes, this is the woman. Her mother was of your Clan.”

The Keeper switched to common tongue. “And what is your name?” he asked.

“Giles. Giles Samient,” she told him. “It was my mother’s wish that I would one day return to her Clan.”

“Have you any proof?”

Giles stammmered, “What?”

The Keeper gestured to his hunters. “I understand your hopes—but I must exercise caution. I cannot allow outsiders into the Clan without proof that you are, indeed, of Sumara.”

Giles hurried to unclasp the pendant from her neck. “This,” she said, holding the halla-horn out, “this was my mother’s.”

The Keeper, with a nod, permitted Loranil to retrieve the pendant from her—though he seemed as reluctant to take it as she was to let it go. Every step it retreated from her felt like another claw piercing her heart, threatening to tear it out.

But the pendant was safely delivered, and the Keeper regarded it with a curious eye.

“I was First to our previous Keeper, when we settled near Samient. Both your mother and father were friends of mine,” he revealed, meeting Giles’ gaze, “but I do not recognise this trinket.”

Panic struck her face—yet he went on:

“However, there is one who may. Excuse me for a moment.”

The Keeper withdrew into the ruins. The hunters remained, watching. The wait, this time, was even longer. Vichy and Loranil did their best to console Giles’ worry, but with every passing minute, it grew. It felt as though the longer they waited, the lesser her chances became—

Rustling, beyond the ruins. The crack of a twig, underfoot. Someone was coming.

The Keeper re-emerged, accompanied by another. An older woman. Her skin was tan, a little lighter than Samient’s—but her hair was the same shade of reddish-brown, greying at the scalp.

The pendant was in her hand, now, the chain dangling from her tightly-curled fingers. Her frail eyes darted between the gathered visitors—until they settled on Giles.

A string of Elven spilled from the woman’s mouth, as she stumbled forward. There was only one word Giles recognised.

“Terana.”

Giles’ breath caught. Her father had spoken her mother’s name only three times her whole life—each more pained than the last. But this woman’s single utterance bore more pain than all his put together.

The woman came face-to-face with her, eyes searching Giles’. More words she didn’t understand. Giles called to Loranil:

“What did she say?”

Almost speechless, Loranil answered: “She asks if you are Terana. Her daughter.”

Her—? Giles shook her head. “What do you mean?”

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, as she raised her hands to cradle Giles’ face.

“I think,” Loranil breathed, “this is your grandmother.”

The woman rubbed her thumbs over Giles’ pointed ears, and turned back to the Keeper. She said something to him—sobbed it, screamed it.

“Your companion is correct,” the Keeper said to Giles, a smile forming across his face. “This is Terana’s mother. And she says you are her granddaughter.”

Giles met her grandmother’s gaze. Words she had never expected. Her grandmother.

She saw, in her face, a reflection of her own. In every curve and feature, there was something of her that they shared. She was so beautiful. Even their tears fell the same.

“My granddaughter,” she whispered, “at last, Ghila’nain has guided you home.”

Her hands withdrew, and she threaded the necklace around Giles’ neck, sealing the clasp herself.

“I gave this to your mother, so that one day, she could find home. That is the last you have of her,” she said, wiping a tear from Giles’ cheek, “and you are the last I have of her.”

Crumbling, collapsing, Giles fell into her embrace. She hoped it was something like holding her mother would have been. She hoped her mother knew. She hoped she could feel it too.

But her grandmother noted Vichy beside them, and curiosity drew her to part. She asked of Giles:

“Who is this?”

“This is Vichy,” Giles explained, “we are betrothed.”

Her grandmother took his hands, and squeezed them. “You brought her home. Which Clan are you from?”

“None, I’m afraid,” answered Vichy. “An alienage. But my mother—she was born in a Clan.”

“Good. Good, strong boy.” She patted his hand. “Then you are home.”

“Ma serannas,” he said, before adding to Giles: “I think she likes me.”

Giles gave a little laugh. “Good.”

Her grandmother took her hand once more, and led her toward the Keeper. The hunters above relaxed their bows, standing to attention, rather than to guard.

“I present my granddaughter,” she said.

The Keeper nodded. “Andaran atish’an, Giles. Welcome to your Clan. In fact”—he looked to Vichy, and Loranil, and their little retinue—“let me extend my welcome to you all. You have returned to us a daughter of Sumara. We must celebrate.”

He extended an arm towards the gap in the ruins. The hunters drew back; Loranil and the soldiers took the invitation. Giles, one hand taken by her grandmother, threaded her other through Vichy’s.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Giles smiled. “Better. I am home.”

[pentuppen]

The Red Right Hand [Rugan & Original Character]

Chapter 1: The Savage Daughter

So I clearly haven't managed to dislodge the Rugan brainworm, and decided that I loved his and Yvie's dynamic enough that they deserved a full blown fic.

Just a heads up that this will be a slow burn start, but I promise I'll make it worth the wait of setting up a half decent narrative!

Oh and this chapters title was inspired by this song....

He hadn’t noticed her yet, and after performing a silent halt that left her wobbling on one leg for a fraction of a second, she attempted an equally silent backstep. This plan pretty much went tits up the moment the factory’s whistle announced the opening of the main gates, allowing the line of workers to march in like lethargic ants. The big brute turned to the sound and spotted her easily, revealing a grin that was sickly sweet enough to tell her that this ugly bastard really enjoyed getting his hands dirty.

“Ello love, where’s your mummy?”

With the water to her back, Yvie had one of two very bad choices at this point. She could go for trying to get past the slab of beef with more tattoos than teeth, or she could risk jumping into the Chionthar while praying she didn’t emerge with a list of diseases. Quite apart from the fish guts and oil, the docks also had a distinct smell of urine, because most households around here thought that hygiene was opening the window before you emptied the piss bucket. 

Neither option offered much in the way of success, but the tail of that thought allowed her eyes to quickly dart to the side of the now splintered doorway, where a second bucket still waited for the night soil cart to collect its contents. Her lack of answer didn’t seem to disturb the thug much, in fact he seemed all too glad to close the distance between them, his eyeballing less than professional. Yvie let him get one step further before she drew her foot back and kicked the bucket hard.

[seeker-of-stories19]

Safelight 🌊 🎞 📷 🤟🏼

Okay you guys have spoken! The Childhood best friends to lovers is a nonlinear story set in Monterey with each chapter following a different part of Robby and Miguel’s childhood and teenage years growing up together. The images are a part of a social media au I made to go with it so there will be a whole Instagram page for each of them featuring a ton of cute posts as the second part in the series after posting the fic (assuming I can figure out how to post images on AO3) If anyone has questions feel free to ask! I think I’m going to do another one of these polls for the main one shots I’m working on.

Sam is saying something but he stops listening when he sees a boy a little down the beach dropping a starfish into his red plastic bucket. He’s too worried to finish listening to Sam try and get out of boogie boarding.

Instead he runs back to where their towels are sat up, crashing into Johnny’s legs and tugging on his blue shorts. “Hey kiddo are you okay?” He asks softly, it makes him want to cry as his dad scoops him up “Daddy that boy has a starfish in his bucket but he shouldn’t do that- what if it’s scary for the starfish or he doesn’t know he needs to put it back?”

“Well why don’t you try going over to him and telling him that it’s nicer to the starfish to leave them with their friends and help him put it back where he found it?” It sounds scary, talking to strangers is scary, but he thinks he can be brave for the starfish's sake. “Okay Daddy I want to help but what if he’s mad at me for telling him?” Sighing Johnny sets him back down and kisses his hair. “Sometimes people get mad at us for doing the right things but if something really matters to you you can fight for it anyway, if something goes wrong I’ll be right here.”

Trying to take a deep breath he marches over to the other boy, hoping he’s not as mean as the boys at school who make fun of him for playing princesses or wearing his favorite red skirt to school.

Placing him down Johnny pats his shoulders to get him moving as he treks across the beach toward the boy with the red bucket, trying to decide what to say as his heart speeds up. He feels sick and it’s only thoughts of how scared the starfish must be that make him inch toward the boy and his mom.

Before he can say anything the other boy bounces up to him, his curly black hair a tangled mess and “Are you coming to play with me!” He says loudly and eagerly, showing off a missing tooth. “N-no” he whispers, suddenly wishing Sam was here “I saw you put a starfish in your pail.”

“Oh I know! Isn’t it so cool? I’ll show you, I think I’m going to-“ the boy was practically bouncing with excitement and he suddenly felt bad for coming over here and spoiling that, he didn’t seem like the boys at school who burned ants with magnifying glasses just because they could. “Mijo I think your new friend is trying to tell you something” His mom says softly as the boy turns bright brown eyes to him “I think you should put the starfish back, it’s not nice to take animals out of their habitats.”

The beautiful smile slips away and he wonders if this is really worth it when someone was actually being nice to him for once. “I didn’t mean to do a bad thing, I just wanted to look at it for a few minutes” he says sadly and it makes Robby feel really bad “You can look at them in the tide pools where they live and even touch them gently but it’s not nice to pick them up and take them places because it might scare them.”

By the time he’s done talking he expects to find the other boy frowning at him but instead he breaks into another blinding smile “Okay that makes sense, why don’t you come with me? We can walk back to where I found him and put him back!”

Immediately he nods “Okay!” He sounds a bit too excited but there’s nothing he can do to contain the warm feeling, this boy is pretty and nice to him which is rare. “Cool, I’ll show you where I found him!” He says happily, grabbing Robby’s hand and tugging him down the beach. He just stares at his back and tries to ignore the warm feeling talking over his body that seems to be radiating from the other boys palm as he talks animatedly.

@keenest-of-heart @mybeautifulillusion @some-dumb-duderino @yoongi12min2 @pluto-plutonium @ivyace @neoghoulukaku @day-dreamsinthedark @miss-starlight @zamsara56-blog @qualityplaidturkey @supersao @piknyu @what-a-gracious-child @ravenmind2001 @theincredibleprincess19 @sansaofyork @thegoddesscirce @princessxx21 @brihannadiamonds @illustep @landing-amongst-the-planets @bigbluealienlover93 @mickeymousesballsack @megankeene @kierasbawls @phantompoguefangirl @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou @keeneonlovinyou @charlies-candid-corner @colduaire @brihannadiamonds @zomboyofficial @meikodenji

*like this post to be added to my taglist and alerted when the whole fic is published!

[scribhneoirtuirseach]

(A very brief look into the end of a life.)

a solo regarding Cap's death (also on AO3)

featuring: Captain, Pat Butcher, Mary, Humphrey Bone, Fanny Button, Thomas Thorne

wordcount: 530

my other BBC Ghosts fics!

"There truly isn't much to say," the Captain sighs when Pat finally manages to gently pester him one too many times about his story. "I lived well and the circumstances of my death have nothing of note, Patrick."

"But you have to understand, and I say this will all of the love in my heart, Cap— When you say nothing at all, when you avoid it, it seems like a lot did happen." He swallows. "Sir."

"It was as unremarkable as falling asleep, because that's simply what happened, Patrick. Now, if you'll excuse me…" Clicking his heels together, the soldier clears his throat before marching off to whatever his next order of business is; The ants outside, most likely.

He knows it isn't right to go sneaking about to find information… But he knows the older ghosts must have seen something.

"I were there when he passed, yes." Mary admits, fingers stressing her apron as she recalls the event. "All I saw was him sat in his chair before he were shouting at us, claiming us to be intruders."

Robin grunts faintly from where he's sat in front of Fanny, having his hair brushed. "Was here first. Everyone else intruder…"

"The Captain's nothing if not consistent." Stubborn is what Pat means, in the most affectionate way possible. He knows what the man's like at this point. "So, he's being honest, nothing at all actually happened…?"

"Nothing at all," Humphrey agrees from somewhere in the corner. "Had tea with his right hand man, then he was gone."

Fanny clears her throat, somehow seeming to focus even more on the messy mans in front of her.

Pat raises a brow, slowly stepping over. "Fanny?" There's that slightly higher pitch, always comes out when he realises someone else knows something. "Sharing's caring…"

"From, not with." She corrects sharply, though with no real malice towards Humphrey. "He brought it for him. There's a reason soldiers don't let anyone else touch their brew, Patrick, you must know…" The only respectful way to say what happened is without saying it at all.

The Scout Leader takes a while to consider this, eyes slowly widening. "Cap was—" Fanny's quick to cover his mouth, Humphrey's head bumbling rather uselessly into the next room; All to the confusion of the Captain as he enters the room.

"I was what?"

"Look at… butterflies?" Robin chances, scratching behind his ear as he diverts his gaze.

"No butterflies out today, I'm afraid." The Captain chirps, fixing Pat and Fanny with a puzzled look before continuing on his way out. "As you were!"

The room remains silent for a solid before they collectively decide it's safe enough to speak.

"He can't not know—"

"He doesn't, and he won't!" Fanny whisper-hisses, dusting herself off. "Don't you suppose he has enough to deal with?"

"Far too many fennels on that man's plate." Mary pipes up in agreement.

Thomas's head pokes through the door. "Who has fennels now?"

"The Captain."

"Lord, I needn't know about that." Aaand that's him quickly disinterested, the group of ghosts breaking off and Pat silently how to, or rather if he should even, attempt to approach the man with this knowledge.

[lemongingerart]

Chapter 4 - Breaking point (I)

Fic summary: The second arc of my Armitage Hux x OC fanfic, “chocolate cookies and tarine tea”, in which both need to deal with the mess they got into (and with each other, eh eh eh). Involves cookies that won't be eaten and tea that will get spilled. Same goes for certain feelings... they are going to be hungry ant thirsty 😏

You can find the link to AO3 and other chapters on Tumblr in the pinned message on my dash, both for the first and second arc 😊

Rating: Explicit. This is going to be very NSFW. So, Minors, do NOT read or interact. 18+. Family, friends and colleagues, please don’t read this. :’-)

Tags & warnings: TRoS fix-it (kind of), Hux!lives, Hux doesn’t like Kylo, Not a Redemption Arc, maybe a little bit, shameless fem!OC insert (there are cliches but entertaining ones imo), slow emotional burn, medium sexual burn, Enemies to Enemies With Benefits to Lovers, Hux is still a villain don't forget, Virgin Characters, masturbation against the door, pinv, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Awkward Sexual Situations, Past Child Abuse, dubious first kiss, Dom/sub Undertones, Mental Breakdown, Unprotected Sex, wet Hux, that deserves a tag/warning on its own, Minor Character Death

I will add tags as we proceed in the story, please let me know if I forgot one!

Taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess, @morby and anyone who’d like to join 🥰

A/N:   Yoooo! I'm still alive and finally have some days off! A nice bottle of wine has encouraged me to dust off this fics chapter and publish this bit.

Again, this chapter has been through quite some editing to the point that I don't think I'm reading what's actually written. So I hope the dialogue and thoughts are not too wry. Miko is an emotional sponge, so I tried to focus on that but since I'm not it's not always easy to capture her… I hope I didn't overdo it this time 😅

“What is the meaning of this?” Miko heard from her back. She was just putting the little container she purchased in a corner of the cargo hold, securing it for travel. PC resided on her back, giving her maximum space for the manoeuvre.

“... stuff?” she slowly responded, guardedly turning her head towards Hux, who entered the space with a rather authoritative walk. The clack of his marching boots were making it apparent that his steps weren't even, from which Miko, in a fleeting thought, deduced that the blaster shot hadn't healed yet. It didn't pique any sentiments of pity towards him though, for that he should’ve started this conversation differently. 

Frack that kriffing tone of his, I just risked my life to save his skin and this is how he thanks me? crossed her mind, but she kept that to herself. She still tried to be cautious around him, to avoid any second physical confrontation.

“ Stuff? ” he mimicked with an ice cold voice, his chest slightly heaving upwards, showing cracks of anger while the rest of his facade remained expressionless. 

Wow. He’s already lost his civility , she concluded, trying not to roll her eyes. Okay, her answer might’ve been on the blunt side, but she was going to elaborate if he would give her the chance to. Maybe he could've, you know, communicated like regular beings do. She momentarily closed her eyes and held back the urge to sigh out loud.

“Yeah… we still have a few days to spend on this ship, so I figured we could use some extra groceries and stuff.” she replied, pulling up her shoulders and trying to act casual. Internally, though, her blood started boiling. She just went through the second most thrilling event of her life, and she needed to blow off some steam, for kriffs sake, not get caught in his web of judgemental anger. 

Is he going to start a fight already? Because I was trying to plan ahead a bit?

“So you just went shopping ? While we are on a tight schedule? While I was thinking you might’ve been held captive? While I was starting to assume even worse?” he bristled and she could almost feel the shift in the air coming from his nose. Even when he was standing a few meters away from her .

Oops. 

She gulped, as cold sweat took over and washed away some of the anger she felt, replacing it with confining guilt. He did have a point there.

“We discussed the course of action, shopping was not part of it!” he said, while slightly raising his voice and throwing one hand to the side. 

She could see him clenching his fists,  body language she was already familiar with. 

Oh, he was right to be angry, she realised that by now, but he should at least give her the chance to speak out instead of just being so… demanding. 

The way he just treated her, though, together with his own apparent anger, worked through her culpability and made her temper rise in mere seconds yet again. 

Without a thought, she launched a counterattack: “Hey, these are loaded with useful stuff, I can think for myself. You don't have to order me around!" Miko threw back at him, reflexively mimicking his tone, although she knew this retaliation was plain stupid. Why does he always need to go that extra parsec to drive me crazy? He doesn't even give me the chance to explain or apologise!

She suddenly stopped her outburst though, when she realised the scrutiny she was under. He was looking at her under the harsh light of the cargo hold now, his eyes obscured by ink black shadows, his cheekbones hollow and his whole appearance radiating anger and darkness and a mood she couldn’t pinpoint yet. But it made her think back about how he attacked her neck before. 

No, getting into an argument with him wasn’t a bright idea, she contemplated and gulped. She took a glance at PC, who was back at her shoulder and taking a defensive position. She tried to calm down her breathing, but couldn't stop the shiver running down her spine while she slowly backed away from him, avoiding any eye contact. If he would lunge at her again, maybe she wouldn't be as lucky as the last time. Should she reach for the blaster?

While she braced herself for possible physical contact, it seemed Hux wasn't done with the verbal response.

“I’ve been here, constantly checking your position, wondering when I’d see you back. If anything happened to you- “ Hux shouted back in the meanwhile, pulling her attention back to the argument they were having. His breath hitched, making him interrupt his plea. The glitch in his otherwise harsh demeanour didn't go unnoticed by Miko, and made her involuntarily look up again. For some reason she wasn't aware of, he suddenly started focusing on the floor and stopped paying attention to her, while she was still trying to create some distance between the both of them. 

An uneasy silence fell in the hangar deck. 

“I- I…sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry that much,” she silently apologised, mimicking his body language and staring at the durasteel floorplates. 

PC turned his head sideways, as if he was surprised by her uncharacteristic response. 

She wondered when she became like this… he was the one shouting at her and she only bought some necessities. He should be thanking me, for kriffs sake, not reprimanding me. The thought about him getting physical again was holding her back and it stinged.

“It won’t happen again, I’ll see to it.” she muttered, not really knowing where that came from. Was she really going to abide by his tirades, or was there more to it? Was it the worried undertone of his voice, during that last sentence? The way he altered his stance?

She tried to pinpoint why he made her back off. Maybe it wasn't just about the fear of a lash out. Maybe, she just didn’t like to see him this angry and worried about her, too. The whole ‘mission’ had gnawed on her nerves as well. But everything went fine, right? 

She just might have forgotten to take into account his view on the matter. He’s been here for almost an hour, without any sign of life from her part. Then, she happily walks in with a box full of groceries. And if she was honest with herself, not everything in there was actually necessary. Also, she did pay for them with that credit chip he gave her, so she hoped they could let the whole ordeal rest for a while, instead of it driving him more mad than he already was.

Miko kept standing there, expecting him to reprimand her even more, but -surprisingly- no words followed. 

When she finally turned her gaze up, she saw him still looking down, his hand shielding his face, the thumb and digit finger pressing his forehead with a force that must be leaving marks. 

She paused. What was going on here? Was he still angry or…?

"Please… be patient with me," he quietly said with a raspy, trembling voice, still not lifting his head. 

Kriff , that timbre made her feel so much worse than how she felt when he was angry. The atypical request hit her right in the chest, wringing out her heart and making those banished, inappropriate feelings for him resurface in merely seconds. If she wasn’t kept back by what happened before, she would’ve walked up to him and try to console him, and who knows what would've come from that. 

Miko attempted to interpret his wordings through the emotional fog. She didn't know what exactly he was referring to - although he probably was talking about the way he was treating her - but…why did he sound so vulnerable ? Or, was this the first time she heard the man behind the mask?  

The realisation that this high placed and high minded officer was asking her such a personal thing, almost pleading to her, made her shaky, as if the way they stood towards each other was subject to a landslide, and instantly everything between them was cast in a different light. 

He did know he crossed a line back then, probably felt he was doing it all over again, and now he suddenly sounds so desperate to make amends… she thought while rubbing her neck with her thumb. Maybe… there's still some empathy left in him… maybe even…more…

Hux let out a loaded sigh and, as if by reflex, all air left her lungs; she could not bring out a word, so she just nodded and made a positive humming sound. What other reply could she provide him with anyway?

"I.. don't know who I am anymore. And who I should be right now," he continued, still focused on the floor, his tone soft and cracked. The words creeped into her core, more than anything else he had said or done to her before. Any trace of her being mad at him dissipated, the sentiment replaced by something much more gut wrenching. She was sucking in his desperation and while she was aware of it and probably should hate it, there wasn’t a way to stop it from happening.

He stumbled, now rubbing both hands in his face. 

"I almost lost everything… I can't afford to lose even more." 

Stars , she wasn’t prepared for this.

The rawness in that sentence made her heart clench, her fingers curl up, as if her world was crumbling down together with his. Why was she such an emotional sponge? This is why she usually keeps her distance from people in general. But now, there was no escape.

And with the sentiments he radiated off on her, came the realisation. It was as if she only now fully saw the gravity of what happened to him: both of them were taken from their homes, but he's the one who got shot at. She could probably return when this is all over. For Hux, on the contrary, it was not that simple. Everything he used to have, used to be, had gone up in smoke. He was killed after all, it must feel like only an empty shell remained... a black hole, forming right in front of her, ready to devour her if she couldn't get free of its menacing gravity.

An awkward silence fell between them. Miko was still processing the intensity of his statement, having a hard time keeping bot hers and his emotions quiet. It made her even cautious to breathe, as if the sound could drag him down even more. 

But… oh frack… seeing him standing there, struggling with himself and what happened to him… deep down, it made her want to comfort him… hug him, breathe new life into him. Keep the darkness at bay. 

But how could she, of all people, help him out of this deep hole? 

And actually, why would she? After how he treated her?

Frack . 

She rubbed her upper arms in an effort to lose the feeling that she was going to drag herself down into the dark pit called Armitage Hux.

Hux scratched his hair and bowed deeper down, letting out a low sound like he was trying to make everything stop. The rawness, the sincereness, the way his hands were woven through his hair made her realise that he shouldn’t look like this beautiful mess, how she wanted to support his tired face and run her fingers through those locks as if she could remove the distress by doing so, and she immediately tried to revoke those thoughts. 

He suddenly looked up to the ceiling with a sigh. 

He swallowed, and she could see his adam's apple move as he was trying to keep his distress from surfacing. 

With his focus still upwards, he asked her: "Do you have the coördinates?", his voice turning emotionless again.

"Uhuh," Miko replied softly, slightly taken off guard.  His request brought her back to reality. One part of her might've wanted to console him, just because she was not able to see someone suffer, she tried to make herself believe. But, the other part really didn’t want to get close to him when he was unstable. She didn't want to land on the wall with his hands on her throat again. 

With her reply, she saw a chance to escape the hangar and the invisible grip he had on her, so she quickly added:" I'll bring us into orbit."

Miko stepped towards the door with a pace giving away her need to get out of there, crossing him and feeling the sorrow radiate from him. She rubbed her upper arms again, trying to get rid of the chill she got from him... instead of patting him on the arm, like she probably would have done with anyone else.

[aellivi]

New Ants Go Marching chapter!!

The Ants Go Marching (11020 words) by Peripheral_Ambrosian

[deloc-deltoca]

12 AM ‘what if Raditz was revived before the android arc’ fic wip

Internally, Raditz was beyond pissed that he couldn't go Super Saiyan. He knew it wasn't an easy thing to do, something that he could simply achieve by working his ass off every day and night, but it still seemed to elude him. Goku described it as an internal well of seemingly every negative emotion; anger, disgust, anguish. Each of these emotions suddenly spilling out in an uncontrollable wave of power, overwhelming you in your own ki. Or something along those lines, Raditz had only been half listening as he watched a small line of ants march by at his feet.

“Well if it was this ‘well of emotions’ as you described, I probably would have immediately launched into Super Saiyan the moment I found out Vegeta and Nappa weren't going to resurrect me.” Raditz remembered mumbling, scowling down at the bugs.

Even in Hell, Raditz had witnessed Vegeta and Nappa’s arrival on Earth, as well as their decision to keep their comrade dead. The betrayal he felt hurt more than the torture he had to endure, and the lack of remorse in Vegetas gaze once he had been revived made the pain all that worse. If that wasn't enough suffering to make him go Super Saiyan, Raditz doubted he even had the ability to.

He had noticed Goku wincing slightly. The topic of his death and resurrection was still a touchy one, even now all this time later. Raditz always just shrugged it off, a small part of him understanding the reason behind it all, the hesitancy, the whole ‘this guy kidnapped my son and tried to kill me’ thing, all that.

“Maybe, maybe a different emotion would trigger it for you!” Goku had quickly spurred back from the awkward silence.

Raditz couldn't help but roll his eyes, always the optimist, his little brother. “Right yeah, I’ll try crying so hard I manage to quadruple my power level. Now enough talking, we're supposed to be preparing for these cyborgs or whatever.”

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Part 40/54

I know my existence is temporary and so is yours But god, please, as much as I love the stars they don't last forever I don't mind being temporary as long as it means I'm temporary with you I would paint a hundred more stars in the sky if it meant you never burnt out” -@ambsthom

Masterlist

The grand hall of Arl Eamon's estate bustled with frenetic energy as the companions prepared to depart Denerim. Servants scurried like ants, their movements purposeful and precise as they packed supplies and readied horses for the journey ahead. Gwen kept to the shadows, carefully inspecting her weapons and gear while avoiding the chaotic commotion around her. She had just finished tightening the straps on her pack when a firm hand grasped her shoulder,

"Gwen, do you have a moment?”

As she spun around, Darcy's face came into focus as he released his hold on her. His usually smooth brow was furrowed, making his expressive eyebrows look like dark caterpillars inching towards each other. Worry lines etched deep creases across his forehead, and when he opened his mouth to speak, she could see the tension in his jaw.

Darcy rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking away. "Supporting Alistair at the Landsmeet wasn't easy for me, Gwen... I just... I wish this had turned out differently." He stepped closer, voice low. " I betrayed your trust and hurt two of my closest friends. If you didn’t want to travel with me anymore, I would understand."

Gwen shook her head, squeezing his arm in a way that she hoped would be reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere.” For now at least. Even though what he’d had to do tore out her soul, Darcy was still her friend and she would follow him for however long he would have her.

Darcy raised his head, his eyes wide and shining. “But I… hurt you, and don’t say I didn’t, Alistair didn’t take it lightly either.”

“It’s fine, Darcy,” Gwen forced a smile, but her fingers twisted together nervously. “Alistair and I… we talked it through.” The knot in her stomach coiled tighter.

"Oh, that’s wonderful!" Darcy cried, clapping his hands together, shoulders dropping as he smiled at her. "I want nothing more than for you both to be happy. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

His voice was filled with a childlike enthusiasm, but it only made her feel worse. She couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his face, not after all he had endured. Her guilt swelled in her chest, threatening to suffocate her. Her heart raced, and she bit her lip, the taste of iron lingering as she fought to suppress the emotions rising like bile. She forced herself to swallow it down, determined to be strong for him. He hadn’t meant to tear her still-beating heart out of her chest.

Gwen hoisted her pack, the weight settling on her shoulders like familiar armour. “Let’s keep pace,” she said, glancing briefly toward where Alistair awaited. “The new king has enough on his plate without us holding him back.”

Darcy's bright, wide grin illuminated his entire face, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks. As they strolled out to join the group, Gwen willed her own smile to appear genuine. She knew she would have to carry this weight on her own, but as long as her dear friends were safe and content, that was all that truly mattered to her.

Gwen's sturdy boots sunk deep into the damp Ferelden soil, the cool earth clinging to her soles with each step she took toward Redcliffe. The air was thick with tension and anticipation as the weary team trudged on, still processing the results of the Landsmeet. Alistair marched alongside her, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as the party discussed their strategy for facing the looming threat of the Archdemon's army.

With confident strides, Darcy led the group a few steps ahead of Gwen, her fingers curled around a map of Ferelden. As they walked, he spoke with large, sweeping gestures about the military strategies they would need to implement to defeat the Archdemon's horde. Gwen merely nodded, her bandana-masked face betraying none of her thoughts as she internally rehearsed every move she would have to make.

Their journey was momentarily paused by an unexpected plea for help- a small cluster of villagers blocked their path, their faces etched with desperation and fear. They spoke in frantic voices of lost sheep, taken during a recent storm that had ravaged the area. The wind still carried the scent of wet earth and charred wood, proof of their tale. The villagers huddled together, clothes tattered and hair dishevelled, as they pleaded for assistance in finding their beloved livestock.

Darcy’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he rolled up his sleeves. “Well, let’s see if we can't lend a hand, shall we?”

Alistair was quick to join him. "Who knew our grand adventure would lead us to the noble art of… sheep wrangling? Next, I expect to see Darcy leading the flock as an esteemed shepherd!"

Morrigan rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh yes, rescuing wayward farm animals, a truly worthy task for the heroes who will defeat the Blight," she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Despite Morrigan's obvious disapproval, the party set out to help the distressed villagers. Gwen couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her at the chance to do something simple and good amidst all the chaos and danger that awaited them.

As the party conversed with the villagers, gathering information or setting off to scout, Gwen found herself standing slightly apart with Leliana.

The bustling scene spread out before them, alive with activity and laughter. Darcy's infectious laugh rang out, filling the air with its bright and clear sound as he enlisted a group of eager children to aid in their search. While Alistair entertained the crowd with exaggerated tales of Darkspawn-slaying prowess.

"See how much light they bring, even in these dark times?" Leliana remarked, her tone gentle but pointed. "Darcy with his heart on his sleeve and Alistair... Well, just look at him. He's always brighter when you're near."

Gwen felt a subtle but sharp prickling sensation along her scarred back, hidden beneath the weight of her armour, in response to Leliana's words. A low chuckle escaped her lips, more a puff of breath than genuine amusement, as she quickly changed the subject and steered the conversation away from dangerous waters. "If only the Darkspawn were as easily amused as these villagers, we'd have nothing to worry about."

Leliana's eyes held a knowing glint, but she refrained from saying more as she turned to join the others in their efforts. Gwen couldn't help but smile as she watched Alistair scoop up a squealing child, hoisting them high onto his shoulders with ease. A warm sensation spread through her chest, like a gentle fire being lit—the feeling was both unfamiliar and deeply comforting.

Taking a deep breath, Gwen stepped forward to join in on the fun, pushing aside any lingering doubts that threatened to dampen their spirits. There was laughter to share and hope to rekindle, even if it was just a brief respite before the inevitable sorrow.

After spending time conversing with the villagers and gathering valuable information on the elusive sheep's habits, Darcy announced that they would embark on a search of the surrounding area. The villagers expressed their endless gratitude while Gwen let out a heavy sigh, but ultimately followed along as Darcy eagerly led the way into the rolling hills. His contagious excitement was palpable and soon even Gwen found herself scanning the rugged terrain for any signs of wooly stragglers.

As the sun sat high in the sky, they decided to take a much-needed break in a peaceful glen. Gwen leaned against a sturdy oak tree, taking in the calming sounds of nature around her. It wasn't long before she noticed a few sprigs of vibrant green elfroot growing at the mouth of a nearby cave. Intrigued by this discovery, she cautiously ventured inside, curious if more of the useful herb could be found within. The damp cave opened up into a larger cavern and Gwen froze as she heard the faint bleating of sheep. Peering deeper into the dark abyss, she spotted the missing flock huddled together in an accidental pen constructed from downed branches.

"Found them!" Gwen called out.

The others quickly joined her, the group forming a makeshift barrier as they guided the skittish sheep back out into the welcoming sunlight. Darcy's joyful whoops echoed through the fields, his fist punching triumphantly in the air while Alistair simply shook his head with a fond chuckle. Gwen couldn't help but smile at the sight, relieved that the farmer would have his precious flock returned unharmed. As they walked alongside the herd on its journey home, she found herself falling into step next to Alistair, their feet crunching in unison on the dry grass. The sun on her skin and the soft bleating of the sheep surrounded them. Though it pulled at her broken heart to be near him, she was determined to spend every possible moment at his side.

"It’s not every day you find yourselves immersed in such glorious work -fighting off the perils of boredom!" he said, peering over at her. "But honestly, there’s a certain charm in running about the countryside in search of sheep instead of, you know, facing Darkspawn."

Gwen nodded, the warmth blossoming in her chest once more. "A welcome break."

Once they had returned the sheep, the villagers insisted on the party staying for a lavish lunch before returning on their way. Never one to say no to food, the party gratefully accepted their kind offer. The table was overflowing with platters of hearty stews, golden roasted vegetables, and crusty loaves of bread. Despite their full stomachs, the party couldn't resist indulging in seconds and thirds. As they sat around the tables, exchanging stories and laughter with the villagers, it became clear that they were welcome to stay for the night. However, pressing matters called for their departure. With much reluctance, they bid farewell to their new friends, Darcy promising to return and visit once he was able. As long as Darcy lived, Gwen was sure he would keep that promise.

Another day of travel under their belts had them stumbling upon the banks of a gurgling river that sliced through the Ferelden landscape like a sparkling ribbon. The sun's rays danced upon the water, transforming it into a glittering golden carpet that seemed to stretch for miles. Every dip and curve of the rippling water created ever-changing patterns of light and shadow, mesmerizing in its complexity. It was Darcy who first spotted the rope swing, dangling from the outstretched limb of an ancient tree. Its frayed ends swayed gently in the breeze, inviting them to leave their worries behind and join in on the fun.

"Would you look at this!" Darcy exclaimed, his voice ringing with the thrill of unexpected delight. With the swift grace inherent to his elvhen lineage, he bounded toward the swing, his black waves turning almost brown in the light and bouncing with each step. "Come on, We can’t pass up a perfect opportunity like this. Everyone, as your leaders I command you strip down to your smalls!”

His invitation hung in the air like a challenge, the light breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers that grew on the banks of the shore, and though Wynne shook her head with fond exasperation, even she could not stop a smile from appearing on her lips at Darcy’s boyish glee.

“I think I shall stay fully clothed, dear, but soaking my tired feet does sound delightful.”

“Do not be ashamed to show off your body, my beautiful enchantress,” Zevran said, already working to remove his armour, a wink shot Wynne’s way.

The elder mage rolled her eyes. “It is not that, but living in the Circle I hardly had the opportunity to learn how to swim. It would do no one any good for me to drown now.”

Alistair's eyes lit up with an idea. "You know, I could offer you a swimming lesson. I promise I won't let you drown... unless, of course, we’re attacked by a fierce fish determined to defend its territory. Then all bets are off!"

Wynne smiled, a warmth in her eyes. "That's very kind of you to offer, Alistair. But these old bones aren't made for frolicking about in rivers anymore." She stretched, joints creaking. "But you should go and enjoy yourself."

Alistair nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, I'd be happy to give you your first swimming lesson."

“Anyone else want to take Alistair up on his offer?” Darcy asked with a less than subtle look at Gwen, her gaunt figure a whisper against the robust vitality around her. Her long, wavy hair concealed much, but no strands could hide the marks etched into her flesh or the pain they represented. They had seen her scars before, but it was another thing to willingly show them off like they weren’t marks of shame.

Blinking, Gwen narrowed her eyes. “I know how to swim Darcy.” Upon his raised, unbelieving eyebrow, she corrected herself, “Not well, but I still can.”

She’d had to learn, living in the untamed wilderness for so many years. Hunting and gathering were her daily tasks, and she had mastered them with skill and precision. Catching fish wasn’t too hard if you knew where to stand. However, fear of drowning had driven her to practice floating and subsequently treading water in the shallow parts of the river. It was not a graceful sight, resembling more of a flailing fish than a human, but it served its purpose.

“If you say so,” Darcy acquiesced. Gwen watched as Darcy enthusiastically shucked off his boots and tunic, revealing a lithe and toned physique. Leliana was quick to follow, peeling away layers of leather armour to reveal a simple linen shift.

"Last one in is a rotten nug!" Darcy hollered, sprinting towards the river. He leapt with abandon into the air, tucking his body tightly before plummeting into the water below with a resounding splash. Leliana's laughter bubbled up like a babbling brook as she gracefully skipped her way into the river after him, Zevran hot on her heels.

Morrigan stood off to the side, rolling her eyes at their carefree behaviour. Suddenly, her figure blurred and shifted until she transformed into a massive brown bear. With cautious steps, she ambled toward the water's edge and dipped one of her enormous paws into the cool, rippling surface. Satisfied with its temperature, she waded further in until the water reached her broad shoulders.

Even Sten waded into the river's chilly water. With an uncanny display of dexterity, he speared fish after fish, providing not just entertainment, but sustenance too. Ever the practical Qunari.

Alistair grinned cheekily at Gwen as he stripped down to just his smalls, tossing his clothing haphazardly onto the grass.

"Well I certainly will not be the rotten nug, sounds particularly terrible," he declared before taking a running start at the rope swing and using his momentum to launch himself into the deeper part of the river. He surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"Come on, Gwen, the water's perfect!" He called, waving her over. Darcy and Leliana chorused their encouragement, beckoning enthusiastically. Morrigan huffed out an ursine snort, flicking water at Alistair with a sweep of her paw.

Gwen hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. She knew the call was meant in good nature, yet it pricked like a barb. They'd seen her mottled body, and the monstrous capabilities that lay behind her slitted cheeks and unhingeable jaw. But allowing herself to partake in such an activity seemed a vulnerability too raw, an intimacy too daunting for someone like her.

She shuffled uncertainly, keenly aware of Wynne's patient, nonjudgmental gaze upon her.

Gwen’s fingers tightened around her arms, a lingering hesitation surfacing in her gaze. “You go have fun,” she said after a moment, forcing herself to smile. “I’ll take in the view from here.”

Alistair's face fell, his smile fading into a pout as she declined his invitation. As the others splashed and laughed in the water, he swam back to shore, his hair slicked back from his brow. His brown eyes gazed at her with a softness that made her cheeks flush with warmth.

Alistair ambled over to where Gwen stood, rooted to the spot like an ancient tree resisting an eager wind. His hand found hers, a simple gesture that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken promises. "You know," he began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "I reckon this river hasn't seen a warrior as fierce as you take on its rope swing."

Leliana joined them, water dripping down her shift and leaving very little to the imagination. She too had her own scars, though not as severe as Gwen’s, and still her blue eyes danced with encouragement. "He's right. I think the river would be honoured by your grace, Gwen." Her words were light, but they carried the strength of belief.

"Besides," Alistair continued, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, "we've got your back. Literally. I promise not even a mischievous siren could sneak up on you with us around."

"Or a dragon," Leliana chimed in with a tilted grin, "well, perhaps a very small one. But we'd certainly fend it off together!"

Their laughter mingled, soothing the sting of Gwen's apprehension. Could she allow herself this moment of lightness? The hand clasping hers was steady, warm - alive, his pulse beating steadily against hers. She had promised herself that she would savour every moment with him, and she was reticent to break it so soon.

"Alright," Gwen murmured, a tentative smile inching across her face as she pulled her bandana down. "Only because I know I will never hear the end of it."

Gwen took a shuddering breath. For once, she wanted to stop overthinking, to act on impulse. Before she could second guess herself, she stripped down to her breast band and smalls.

Her heart thrummed in her chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the flickering shadows cast by the swaying trees. A deep breath filled her lungs, carrying with it the scents of fresh water and wildflowers, grounding her in the present. With each exhalation, she released a fragment of her fear into the sunlit air.

Gwen's feet led her forward, guided by a force that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. It was the stir of courage, long buried under layers of survival and self-doubt. Her fingers brushed against the coarse rope of the swing.

With a deep breath, Gwen's determination solidified. She wrapped her hands tightly around the rough rope, feeling its harsh texture digging into her skin. With a burst of energy, she sprinted forward, her surroundings blurring into a mosaic of vibrant greens and blues. Far below, the river glimmered like a canvas waiting to be touched by her shadow. The rope felt like a lifeline in her grasp, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip. As she flew through the air, she was torn between terror and exhilaration.

"Go, Gwen, go!" Darcy's voice reached her from the river, vibrating with excitement.

With a powerful leap, Gwen soared out over the sparkling waters, her body suspended in mid-air. The cool wind whipped around her naked face, teasing her hair and sending shivers down her spine. In that fleeting moment, she felt completely free, unbound from the heavy burdens of her past and the weight of the blood that stained her. A silent gasp escaped her parted lips, but it was quickly swallowed by the rush of air and the pounding of her pulse. Her eyes squeezed shut at the last second, bracing for impact with the water below.

Then, at the arc's peak, she let go.

Time stretched as Gwen plummeted, the cool embrace of the river rushing up to meet her. There was a resplendent splash, droplets of water flung skyward like a thousand tiny prisms catching the light. She plunged into the depths, the river enveloping her in its liquid cocoon, a shock of cold that purged her lungs of breath and filled her veins with adrenaline.

Her feet touched the rocky bottom, and with a push of her strong legs, she emerged from the depths, gasping for air, her white hair plastered to her cheeks. Cheers erupted from around her as she pushed the hair out of her eyes, sure she looked ridiculous. It felt silly to be cheered for jumping off a rope swing, that was child’s play. And yet, she had never been allowed such a thing.

"See? Nothing to it!" Alistair's bright smile lit up his face as he waded through the shallow water towards her. She had found a spot where the water only reached her shoulders, and he playfully splashed droplets in her direction with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A flush of warmth spread across her cheeks, ignited by a tingle of unfamiliar pleasure. With playful defiance, Gwen retaliated, sending a wave of water toward Alistair. His laughter, deep and contagious, reverberated across the river as he playfully pounced on her, plunging them both into the water.

The playfulness spread like wildfire among the group; even the stoic Sten joined in, inadvertently creating tidal waves with his immense strength. Leliana danced through the splashes with grace, her laughter weaving a melody above the chaos. No one dared to involve Morrigan in her bear form, instead leaving the mages to watch over the match.

For a time, the looming threat of the Blight receded from Gwen's mind, replaced by this unexpected reprieve - a battle of water, not steel, where the only casualty was dignity. They were warriors cloaked in mirth, any shot was fair, and there were no rules here.

As the water fight waned and calm returned to the river, Gwen floated on her back, staring up at the sky framed by the treetops.

In that tranquil stretch of time, amidst the ripples of the river and the softness of the afternoon sun, Gwen realized that here, in this motley group of heroes and misfits, she could be both hidden and seen - her true self veiled, yet valued. And perhaps, that was enough, even if only for a short time.

The night wrapped itself tightly around Gwen, suffocating her with its oppressive weight. Inside her tent, she tossed and turned in her bedroll, the fabric clinging to her body like a burial shroud. The distant chirps of nocturnal creatures were barely audible over the incessant pounding of the Calling in her ears - a deafening symphony of whispers that gnashed at the frayed edges of her sanity. And with each passing night, it seemed to grow louder, a sinister presence that Gwen could no longer deny, try as she might. But no amount of denial could drown out the insidious voice inside her mind, robbing her of peace and plunging her deeper into the abyss of madness.

"Join us, child of darkness," the whispers hissed, voices slithering through her consciousness. "Embrace your fate."

Gwen's chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths, each one a struggle to take in enough air. A cold sweat coated her skin, making it gleam under the faint light of the moon. It was a reminder of the darkness that lingered within her, staining her blood and haunting her dreams. Each night brought more vivid and terrifying visions. In them, she saw herself as a monstrous creature, freed from any constraints, tearing flesh from bone with wild abandon. Her jaw stretched impossibly wide in an eternal, silent scream.

Alistair stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open slowly. The scent of sweat and fear filled the air as he became aware of her trembling against him. Concern flooded through him as he realized she was trapped in the throes of a nightmare, her brow furrowed and her lips pulled back in a grimace.

"Gwen," he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. She did not respond, continuing to thrash and whimper, her face contorted in anguish. He shook her harder, raising his voice. "Gwen, wake up!"

As the nightmare's grasp tightened around her, she lashed out, rolling on top of him, her legs straddling either side of his waist. Like a steel trap, her hand closed around his throat as she leaned down with bared teeth and wild eyes.

Alistair gasped, his eyes widening in shock as her hand closed around his throat. Reflexively, he raised his hands, not in defense, but in a desperate attempt to ground her, to remind her of his presence. "Gwen?"

She leaned closer, eyes alight with panic. For a moment, they held nothing but the void of her nightmares. But as the remnants of the dream faded, recognition sparked within them.

"Alistair?" Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, his name breaking the spell of her delirium, her hand twitching where it rested loosely on his neck.

He lay pinned beneath her, warmth radiating from his body as she straddled him, her heart racing. In her chaos, his steady presence became an anchor, attempting to soothe the raw edges of her fractured mind. She had not succumbed to the darkness that whispered so sweetly of power and annihilation.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay," he murmured, his voice a tether pulling her back from the precipice of her own mind.

Gwen's muscles relaxed incrementally, the tension seeping away as the adrenaline that fueled her violence ebbed. Slowly, she released him, withdrawing her hands as if he were made of glass, afraid that even the slightest pressure might shatter the fragile peace they had built.

"Alistair, I-I’m so sorry," she breathed out, each syllable a shard of ice in her throat.

Alistair lay on his back, rubbing his throat, but his gaze held no reproach, only an understanding that she did not deserve. He knew the depths from which she fought, the ceaseless battle against an enemy that could not be killed with sword or spell - an enemy that was part of her very being. His nightmares of the Blight may be different, but they were no less terrifying to wake from.

"Nightmares are bastards, and not the dashingly handsome kind like me," he said with a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But you are safe now. It cannot reach you."

His hand reached out, gentle and warm against her cheek, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself sink into the comfort of his touch. But then reality flooded back, and her heart raced inside her chest, a cacophony of fear and confusion. She jerked away from Alistair as if his skin was burning hers, scrambling backwards on all fours. The coarse fabric of the tent floor scraped against her palms, a grounding sensation that snapped her back to the present, far from the darkness of her troubled thoughts. The sounds of the camp outside drifted through the canvas walls, a reminder of the safety and familiarity just beyond reach.

"Sorry," she gasped, the word catching in her throat like a plea. "I didn't— I thought… Oh, Maker." Her breaths came in ragged pants, tripping over each other as she struggled to form coherent sentences. "Alistair, I'm so sorry,” she repeated, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Gwen's vision blurred as the weight of guilt threatened to pull her under. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill over. When she finally forced her gaze to his, it was fleeting, like a scared rabbit darting from a predator's shadow, before she turned away, her heart aching at the sight of his bruised throat.

"Hey, it's okay," Alistair's voice was soothing, laced with concern but devoid of anger - anger that she deserved. He sat up slowly, careful not to startle her further. "You were having a nightmare. It happens to the best of us."

His words were light, but Gwen could hear the undercurrent of earnestness. He reached out tentatively once more, his hand brushing against hers. It was a gesture meant to comfort, not constrain.

"Look at me, Gwen." His tone was gentle, coaxing her eyes to meet his. When she finally did, she saw only warmth there, a deep well of understanding that seemed to pierce through her defences.

"See?" Alistair continued, a half-grin on his face. "Still here. Still breathing."

She allowed herself a closer look, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch the faint red marks her fingers had left on his neck. Guilt surged through her, cold and unyielding. "I could have killed you," she whispered, the enormity of what her uncontrolled strength could do pressing down upon her like a physical weight.

"But you didn’t," he assured her, covering her hand with his own. His skin was warm, he was alive, and she hadn’t killed him. "You're fighting against something most can't even imagine. And yet, here you are, standing your ground."

"Every day, I'm terrified," she admitted, unable to stop herself, her voice trembling in the quiet of the tent. "That I'll wake up one morning… and not be myself. That I'll become something monstrous and hurt everyone I care about."

"You're still you, Gwen. And I will always love you, no matter what. Even if you were turned into the world’s smallest fish, I’d find a way to keep you in the fanciest glass bowl, complete with tiny plants and little treasure chests! Just think of it as an exclusive luxury estate for my love."

Gwen huffed a breathy laugh and sniffled as she wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself.

"It's just… the fear is always there," she whispered, looking down at their joined hands.

"I know," Alistair replied softly. "And I wish I could take it away for you. But I hope that my being here helps in some way."

"More than I could ever express.” Gwen gave him a watery smile. Her eyes lingered on Alistair as she took a steadying breath, her fingers brushing against his, his presence wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.

"I don’t deserve this… you," she whispered, shaking her head

"Don't say that," Alistair scolded gently. "You deserve all the love in the world."

Her breath caught in on a sob that she refused to release. Gwen’s pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the quiet rustle of the camp. The shadows of the tent felt close, too close, as if they were reaching out to envelop her. But as Alistair pulled her close, his embrace enveloping her like a shield, the tension slowly ebbed away. She felt safe and secure in his arms, reassured by his love and comfort.

"You're too kind," she murmured, her eyes lowered in shame.

"Nonsense," Alistair scoffed lightly, but his tone was gentle. "I'm just stating the facts. And believe me, as someone who has seen some pretty terrifying things out on the road, I can say without a doubt that I am not even remotely afraid of you."

Gwen felt a lump form in her throat. She had never felt worthy of such praise before. She still didn’t, but she was reluctant to tell him that, knowing he would only double down.

"I don't know what to say," she whispered, feeling vulnerable in front of him.

"You don't have to say anything," Alistair said softly. "Just know that I love you, and I’m not upset with you. It was an accident, and I should have been more careful when waking you up."

“No, it wasn’t anything you did,” Gwen insisted, "but… thank you.”

How had she gotten so lucky to fall in love with a man like Alistair?

"Rest now," he murmured against her hair, his eyelids heavy with the return of sleep.

He pulled her gently towards the worn sleeping rolls, his strong arms wrapped around her as they settled in. She nestled into the curve of his body, feeling his steady heartbeat against her chest like a gentle lullaby.

Guilt gnawed at Gwen's conscience as she watched him drift back into a peaceful slumber. The pale moonlight cast deep shadows over his face, accentuating the red lines on his throat where her fingers had tightened in a moment of uncontrollable rage. She shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn't snapped her out of it. Andraste’s Grace, Gwen truly was the worst type of monster; one that masqueraded as human.

Hours later, unable to return to sleep for fear of lashing out against Alistair once more, Gwen carefully extricated herself from Alistair's embrace. She slipped out of the tent, leaving behind the comforting cocoon of shared vulnerability and heading into the muted glow of dawn, the air chilled compared to the heat of Alistair’s body.

The camp lay still, its slumbering occupants lost in their own hopefully more peaceful dreams. The soft patter of Gwen's bare feet on the dew-kissed grass was barely audible as she made her way to where Morrigan sat alone, keeping watch over the night. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of wood smoke from the campfire's dying embers. Muted stars twinkled overhead as dawn approached on the horizon, casting a gentle glow on the surrounding trees.

"Can't sleep?" Morrigan's voice sliced through the silence, laced with her characteristic acerbic wit. "Or is there trouble in paradise? Our bumbling Grey Warden no longer what you crave?”

Gwen met the witch's harsh gaze, her mouth set in a firm line. "We need to talk," she said, her voice firm.

"Ah, the plot thickens," Morrigan replied, a smirk on her red lips. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need your help.” Gwen gritted out, her heart racing even as she organized the beginnings of her thoughts.

Morrigan’s smirk widened into a grin. “Do not keep me in suspense, you may proceed with your request.”

Gwen took a deep breath to steady herself, her hands tightly clenched at her sides. The memory of the red lines etched into Alistair's throat flashed through her mind, reminding her of the feral rage she had felt only moments ago. She vowed never to let that happen again, knowing that it would only put them in more danger than they were already in.

With a quiet voice, Gwen explained her request. Morrigan listened with rapt attention, and when Gwen was finished, Morrigan agreed. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! A bit of a calm before the storm, we are starting to gear up for the big conflict, so prepare yourselves!

[ao3feed-leopika]

When x We x Parted

When x We x Parted Link to fic: https://ift.tt/ndqeYlV by Kkheeheehee Gon regains his nen at long last, but at what cost? — Killua and Alluka have been travelling for a long time. Maybe they should rest. — Aka, if Kurapika and Leorio didn't go on the dark continent voyage because the manga scrambled my head and I don't actually understand the plot right now... Words: 39, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Hunter X Hunter Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Multi, Other Characters: Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck, Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Mito Freecs, Alluka Zoldyck, Nanika (Hunter X Hunter), Cheadle Yorkshire, Senritsu | Melody (Hunter X Hunter), Reina | Kite (Hunter X Hunter), Kaito | Kite (Hunter X Hunter), Kurt | Colt (Hunter X Hunter), Morel Mackernasey, Knuckle Bine, Knov (Hunter X Hunter) Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Nanika & Alluka Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight Additional Tags: Trans Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Parental Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Parental Leorio Paladiknight, Background Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs Loves Killua Zoldyck, Pining Killua Zoldyck, Killua Zoldyck Needs a Hug, Oblivious Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck Loves Gon Freecs, I'm Sorry, Hunter X Hunter Spoilers, Post-Chimera Ant Arc (Hunter X Hunter), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Writing Exercise, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Cavetown's Music, What Have I Done, Doctor Leorio Paladiknight, Trans Alluka Zoldyck via AO3 works tagged 'Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight' https://ift.tt/Qsp49ZT March 07, 2024 at 02:40PM

[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Spring round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Spring Fest will run from March 3rd - April 6th in celebration of Spring, whether you are excited about the renewal of life and spring blooms or traveling for Spring Break, there’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs.

We also have a Discord you can join.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Spring Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! There is no minimum word count for your fics. We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in! This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart’s content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. We can only reblog on Tumblr and Re-Tweet on Twitter (we are @sterekfests on Twitter also). If you post on another site other than Tumblr, Twitter, or Ao3, you can send us a link and we can post it here on the fest blog for you. Use the tags #sterekfestsspring2024, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestsicecream, #sterekfestsbeach, #sterekfestspicnic, #sterekfestsharvest

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions. You can find our Summer, Fall, and Winter collections also if you’d like to add to those collections.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome Spring theme weeks ahead!

March 3 - 9: Spring Break

Spring break mode: activated! Stiles and Derek are ready to make some unforgettable memories. The plan? Maybe a road trip through the scenic routes of California. Or maybe they spend the week in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature’s serenity. They could go hiking, take long walks, and at night, gather around a campfire, share stories, or just enjoy the peacefulness. It’s all about stepping away from the usual hustle and bustle and reconnecting with each other and the great outdoors.

March 10 - 16: Ice Cream Crawl

What better way to beat the heat and stress of their supernatural lives than an ice cream crawl? Maybe Derek and Stiles spend their day hitting up different ice cream shops across Beacon Hills as they hunt for the most mouth-watering flavors. Or maybe they venture out of town, finding secret spots and hole-in-the-wall parlors, sampling the eclectic mix of frozen delights from vendors who boast an array of international and exotic ingredients. Either way, they’re sure to map out a route that would make any sweet tooth swoon.

March 17 - 23: Beach

It’s time to ditch the winter blues and bring on the ultimate beach parties. Perhaps Derek and Stiles decide to make the most of their day building sandcastles together, or maybe they go for a swim and try boogie boarding? They could walk along the shore and collect unique seashells or relax on their beach towels and soak up the sun. Wherever you take Stiles and Derek this spring, they’re sure to be excited for their beach adventure, enjoying the sun, sand, and waves.

March 24 - 30: Picnic Anywhere

With Spring comes lush, vibrant landscapes filled with new life…and ants. There’s sun-warmed skin along with sweet fragrant flowers blooming, which means it’s time to have some Spring fun! Perhaps Stiles and Derek are having a picnic at the newly rebuilt Hale house, or are enjoying a meadow speckled with wildflowers in the preserve. It could be perfect or a complete disaster if it’s interrupted by Spring showers. Only you can share with us where Stiles and Derek are having picnics this Spring!

March 31 - April 6: Spring Harvest Festival

Spring has arrived and it’s time to enjoy all the local harvest festivals have to offer! Maybe Stiles and Derek visit a local farmers market to check out the produce for the season, or they run a table or booth there. Perhaps Stiles and Derek are taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt with all the pack kids during a spring festival. There are so many options, including games, food, crafts, and anything else you can imagine that can be enjoyed during a Spring Festival! Show us what Stiles and Derek are doing this Spring!

[bnhaobservation]

BNHA Observations, speculations and assorted info: The facts taking place during BNHA first year

So, in order to write my fic, I spend much time observing canon scenes, comparing the manga and the anime version, take note of details, translations and info in them as well as finding out how are some things called.

Since what I noticed/speculated/found out can be of use for other fic authors I thought to share as well.

Resources:

Chapter 1. Midoriya Izuku: Origin (緑谷出久：オリジン Midoriya Izuku: ORIGIN) Chapter 2. Roaring Muscles (うなれ筋肉 Unare Kinniku) Chapter 3. Entrance Exam (入試 Nyūshi) Chapter 4. Starting Line (スタートライン START LINE) Chapter 5. Smashing into Academia (はりさけろ入学 Harisakero Nyūgaku) Chapter 8 Rage, You Damned Nerd (猛れクソナード Takere Kuso NERD) Chapter 111. Smoldering Start (燻りビギニング Kusuburi Biginingu) Chapter 112. What's the Big Idea? (何をしてんだよ Nani o Shitenda yo) Chapter 131. Fighting Fate (抗う運命 Aragau Unmei) Chapter 144. Red Riot, Part 1 (烈怒頼雄斗① RED RIOT ①) Chapter 145. Red Riot, Part 2 (烈怒頼雄斗② RED RIOT ②) Chapter 153. Transform! (変身! Henshin!) Chapter 173. Prepping for the School Festival Is the Funnest Part (Part 2) (文化祭って準備してる時が一番楽しいよね② Bunkasai tte Junbi shiteru Toki ga Ichiban Tanoshī yone②)

Vol. 3 Bonus chap 2

Episode 1 Midoriya Izuku: Origin (緑谷出久：オリジン Midoriya Izuku: ORIGIN) Episode 2 What It Takes to Be a Hero (ヒーローの条件 HERO no Jōken) Episode 3 Roaring Muscles (うなれ筋肉 Unare Kinniku) Episode 4 Start Line (スタートライン START LINE) Episode 5 What I Can Do for Now (今僕に出来ることを Ima Boku ni Dekiru Koto wo) Episode 6 Rage, You Damned Nerd (猛れクソナード Takere Kuso NERD) Episode 59 What's the Big Idea? (何をしてんだよ Nani o Shitenda yo) Episode 67 Fighting Fate (抗う運命 Aragau Unmei) Episode 72 Red Riot (烈怒頼雄斗 RED RIOT) Episode 75 Unforeseen Hope (見えない希望 Mienai Kibō) Episode 83 Gold Tips Imperial (ゴールドティップスインペリアル GOLD TIPS IMPERIAL)

OBSERVATIONS, SPECULATIONS AND ASSORTED INFO:

You might notice a special focus on the Todoroki family as all their birthdays and statuses are listed. That's because this timeline was originally meant to focus solely on them and then I included info about the other characters.

LEGENDA:

Y1: The birthday was given during the first year of Todoroki Shōto at U.A. (Y1= year 1)

AB: The birthday was given before that character were to have his birthday that year (AB= ante birthday)

BNHA: “Boku no Hero Academia” manga.

TIMELINE (FROM THE BEGINNING OF APRIL TO THE END OF MARCH)

APRIL’S SECOND WEEK (BEGINNING OF THE NEW SCHOOL YEAR): Todoroki Enji (44) is still Number Two Pro Hero of Japan. Todoroki Rei is still hospitalized at Fujitani Hospital. Todoroki Tōya (22) is still assumed to be dead. Todoroki Fuyumi (21) might have already started being a teacher at Elementary school - Todoroki Natsuo (17) starts his 3rd year at High school - Todoroki Shōto (14) starts his 3rd year at Corusan Middle school.

ENTRANCE EXAM ARC

APRIL (LIKELY ON THE 1ST DAY OF SCHOOL): A giant Villain appears near Tatooin Station (田等院駅 Tatōin Eki). Nishiya Shinji/Kamui Wood (27) tries to stop him with his Lacquered Chain Prison (先制必縛ウルシ鎖牢 Sensei Hitsubaku Urushi Sarō) but, Takeyama Yū/Mt. Lady (22), who is debuting that day, steals the catch from him with her Canyon Cannon (キャニオンカノン). Midoriya Izuku (14) assists at the scene before going to school. 8.45 AM. At Aldera Junior High school (折寺中学校 Aldera Chūgakkō) the teacher points out how he should give future career forms but knows his students wants all to become Heroes. Bakugō Katsuki (14) let everyone know he'll apply for U.A. High school (雄英高校 U.A. Kōkō), planning to become the first in their school to be admitted in it. The teacher let the class know Midoriya too is applying for U.A. which lead the whole class to mock Midoriya, as he's Quirkless. 12.02 PM. In that same city (the translation says downtown but the Japanese test says 'Dōshinai' 同市内 which means "the same city") Toshinori Yagi/All Might spots the Sludge Villain as he runs away after stealing money. 3.31 PM. Once lessons end Bakugō mocks Midoriya telling him he can't dare apply for U.A. After school Midoriya is attacked by the Sludge Villain and saved by All Might who uses the Texas Smash (テキサススマッシュ TEXAS SMASH) against him. In an attempt to talk with All Might, Midoriya inadvertitely cause the Sludge Villain to escape and end up in Tatooin Shopping District (田等院商店街 Tatōin Shōten Machi), where he attacks Bakugō Katsuki (14) in what will become known as 'the Sludge Villain incident' (ヘドロ敵事件 Hedoro VILLAIN Jiken). Midoriya tries to save him spurring All Might into action, defeating the Villain with a Detroit Smash (デトロイトスマッシュ DETROIT SMASH) and having All Might later acknowledge Midoriya too can be a Hero even though he was born Quirkless. All Might will then tell him he will inherit his Quirk, 'One for All'. All Might will later inform of this his ex-sidekick, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye (37), ending up on arguing with him. This will lead Nighteye to take Tōgata Mirio/Lemillion (16) under his wing, believing him to be a better candidate to All Might’s power. Meanwhile Bakugō will completely stop tormenting Midoriya, whom he previously used to bully. [BNHA Chap 1, 131]

APRIL (2 DAYS AFTER - 6.00 AM): At Takoba Municipal Beach Park (多古場海浜公園 Takoba kaihin kōen) All Might trains Midoriya according to the 'Pass the test, American dream plan' (目指せ合格アメリカンドリームプラン Mezase gōkaku AMERICAN DREAM PLAN), by having him clean the beach. [BNHA Chap 2. 10 months before the entrance exam]

APRIL (3 DAYS AFTER): At Mt. Agency (Mt. 事務所 Mt. Jimusho) Mt. Lady is told she caused so many damages they’re in red. She inadvertitely turns giant and destroys her own agency. [BNHA Vol. 3 Bonus chap 2]

DURING THE SCHOOL YEAR: Aizawa Shōta/Eraser Head (29) expels his whole class and then reenrolled it. [BNHA Chap 7, 254]

SPRING OR SUMMER: At Musutafu private middle school (私立結田府中学校 Shiritsu Musutafu Chūgakkō), 3rd year Kirishima Eijirō (14) is impressed by the way Ashido Mina (14) uses to handle bullies. On the way back to school he sees her dealing with Gigantomachia, who was searching the Springer Hero Agency and scaring some girls who weren’t giving him directions. Kirishima feels bad because he couldn't move and comes to believe he can't be a Hero but, hearing an interview of Crimson Riot finds back his courage. So he decides he'll go to U.A. anyway, the following day apologizes to the girls he couldn't helpand to Ashido and start working hard to enter U.A. [BNHA Chap 144-145]

JULY 1: Todoroki Natsuo turns 18.

AUGUST 8: Todoroki Enji/Endeavor turns 45.

NOVEMBER: All Might realizes Midoriya (15) overworked himself. To respect Midoriya's efforts he changes his 'Pass the test, American dream' plan. U.A. School festival. Kenranzaki Bibimi wins the beauty pageant,Hadō Nejire/Nejire-Chan is the runner up. [BNHA Chap 2, 173]

DECEMBER 6: Todoroki Fuyumi turns 22.

END OF THE YEAR: Birth of Takagi Ken/Rock Lock’s kid [Age 0 Y1AB BNHA Chap 153]

JANUARY 11: Todoroki Shōto turns 15.

JANUARY 18: Todoroki Tōya turns 23.

FEBRUARY: Students submit school entrance application, examination admission card, and school report to the high school. [This is the month in which is usually done in Japan]

FEBRUARY 25: U.A. entrance exam, written portion, usually called Academic Achievement Examination [In Japan it's usually the day before the practical portion... though it can be it was after it]

FEBRUARY 26 (9.00 AM): Midoriya receives One for All then runs to take part to the U.A. entrance exam, Practical Skill Examination. During the test he can't make any Villain point but, unknown to him, totalize 60 resque points by saving Uraraka Ochako (15). Score for the practicals are out. Right after the test, Uraraka goes to Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic (30) and asks him if she can give some of her points to Midoriya but she's told it's unnecessary as the school has given him 60 rescue points. [BNHA Chap 3]

FEBRUARY: U.A. entrance test for recommended students divided into written part, practical test (a three-kilometer footrace) and interview. Todoroki Shōto places second after Yoarashi Inasa (15). Due to his behavior though, he makes an enemy out of Yoarashi Inasa who decides not to go to U.A. High School. [BNHA Chap 111-112. In Japan the entrance exams are all usually in February... We don't know if the recommended students had it prior or after the other students or in the same day but Present Mic is present to both so they take place in different times]

MARCH 5: Midoriya Izuku (as well as the rest of the students) receives the letter that informs him he’s been admitted to U.A. High School. [BNHA Chap 4]

MARCH (LIKELY THE DAY AFTER): After learing Midoriya and Bakugō passed the test their teacher congratulate with them. Bakugō angrily yells at Midoriya who refuses to let the other scare him. [BNHA Chap 5]

MARCH (AROUND THE MIDDLE OF THE MONTH OR AFTER IT): Graduation Ceremony for the award of graduation certificates. [This is when it's usually done in Japan]

MARCH (THIRD WEEK): Midoriya, who, like all the students, has to send to school his Quirk registry and bodily specification forms along with a request form so that a support company will create their Hero costumes, when realizing he has to go to the city hall to get his Quirk registry form, phones to All Might, worried because he's been registred as Quirkless and is told he will be allowed to update it. Moments later his mother, Midoriya Inko, gifts him with a Hero costume made by her. [BNHA Chap 8. Three weeks before the school start]

MARCH (END OF THE MONTH): Spring Break. [This is when it's usually done in Japan]

[wcters]

𝗕𝗘𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗦

pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader

summary: you promote your new series, as well as revealing your relationship with your co-star

warning: social media fic, relationship launch, went through a sebastian stan/bucky barnes phase

yourusername

liked by imsebastianstan, anthonymackie, and 783,957 others

yourusername 1 month to go! thank you everyone for your paitence and love with this series 🤍 behind the scenes coming soon

tagged @imsebastianstan, @anthonymackie

view 6,275 comments

user she’s literally feeding us, our queen

↳ user we love her

user y’all see that kiss between bucky and olivia in the trailer right??

user ship! ship! ship!

anthonymackie they’re not gonna believe how good it is!

↳ yourusername so true!

user mother knows best 😭😭😍

↳ user that’s so real

marvel we can’t wait!

user hopefully bucky is actually happy this time 😭😭

↳ user if he’s with liv? absolutely

imsebastianstan

liked by yourusername, user, and 1,074,872 others

imsebastianstan your favourite on-screen couple, bucky and olivia, coming to you in 2 weeks! also sam wilson but who cares about him? 🤷 stream the falcon and the winter soldier on march 19!

tagged @yourusername

view 10,036 comments

user oh my god

user they’re so cute

user i’m rooting for them

user not him acting like sam and bucky aren’t in love 🙄🙄

↳ yourusername you ate him up with that one

↳ imsebastianstan what does that mean?

user not sebastian not understanding slang 💀

anthonymackie thanks for the shoutout man 🙄

↳ user oooo he angry

↳ user he’s so real for that though

gq

liked by user and 1,298,926 others

gq co-stars sebastian stan and y/n y/l/n were spotted outside a restaurant in LA, pda showing, on the week of the premiere of their show while with friends. they’re starring as “bucky barnes” and “olivia fresco” in the falcon and the winter soldier marvel series. it is unknown if they are in a relationship. what do you think?

view 10,386 comments

user i knew that kiss was more than acting!!

user theyre so cute i can’t 😭😭

user i just threw my phone

user okay let’s stop assuming stuff

↳ user it’s not assuming, they’re acting like a couple 💀💀

yourusername

liked by erin.kellyman, imsebastianstan, and 1,983,024 others

yourusername the falcon and the winter soldier is officially streaming on disney plus! thank you to everyone who made this possible, my cast mates, the crew, and the fans. playing olivia is an honour 🤍 see you in the next one!

tagged @marvel, @imsebastianstan, @anthonymackie, @erin.kellyman, @thedanielbruhl, @emilyvancamp

view 12,648 comments

erin.kellyman it was great working with you!

↳ yourusername we have to get together soon 🤍

user is she not going to adress the gq article??

user already watching it 😋😋

imsebastianstan this show proves i always win staring contests

↳ yourusername not always 😬😬

user this supports my delusion that sam and bucky secretly love each other

↳ yourusername mine too babe 😔😔

user are you and seb dating??

user y/n and sebastian are sooo cute together

anthonymackie missed working with you ❤️

↳ yourusername me too ant!

user they are totally dating

user this is why she’s my favourite actress ❤️😭

yourusername

liked by imsebastianstan, anthonymackie, and 2,836,012 others

yourusername guess that cat’s out of the bag 🤍

tagged @imsebastianstan

view all 128 comments

yourusername has limited comments

anthonymackie congrats y/n/n ❤️

user omg

user i’m so happy for you guys ❤️❤️

chrisevans it’s about time

imsebastianstan 🤍

user HE USED HER HEART

user all the fangirls are screaminggggg

imsebastianstan

liked by yourusername, anthonymackie, and 3,017,763 others

sebastianstan ❤️

tagged @yourusername

imsebastianstan has turned off comments