#new fic klaxon

[wetcatspellcaster]

Chapters: 1/? Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Academia, Celebrity Crush, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, POV Alternating, turned the magic to 0 but turned the Bi4Bi up to 11, charisma/intelligence pairing at its finest, this is my slowest burn yet. he's got to be integrated into the found family first.

"After leaving Szarr Entertainment in the wake of a tumultuous - deliberately engineered - scandal, Astarion Ancunín has rebuilt his acting career, from the blacklisted ground up. Through a heavily doctored narrative of queer reclamation, he's finally making a name for himself, and hoping to claim prestige (and maybe a few awards) through the leading role in a historical biopic about the openly gay elven oracle, Aerthwyn Capaxath.

The only problem is, Aerthwyn Capaxath is the worst person that ever lived (or died). Just ask Dr. Rosalie Frostsong, a thoroughly unwilling expert on the subject."

💖 New fic who dis? Read Chapter One here!

[ilgaksu]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hei Xia Zi/Xie Yuchen Characters: Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Trans Xie Yuchen, Alternate Universe - 1930s Shanghai, Detective L AU Summary:

People remember seeing me, Wu Xie. I am a distinctive character.”

“That,” Wu Xie replies, “is one way of phrasing it.”

(An AU based off Detective L, where Hei Xiazi is a forensic examiner, Wu Xie a police detective, and Xie Yuchen the owner of a few small businesses.)

[procyonloser]

Adamsapple mini ~space~ au that maybe I'll adapt into an actual fic after I'm done with eve of Adam.

Read more below the cut

Klaxons were blaring and the ship was painted in flashes of red and blue. His soldiers were running around like headless fucking chickens, trying to contain the fires and the leaks before they got out of hand, but bodies lay on the ground and they were drifting on no life support.

"Sir!?" His first officer screamed, holding her bleeding arm. Her eyes were wide in fear, fury, and a resolution that was quickly leaving him. But, they still shared a similar need for revenge.

They were outgunned. The traitors and outcasts had won, the scum of the fucking galaxy. Disgusting hybrids and freaks.

And the worst of all of them...

Adam stumbled to the front of his ship, stepping over the body of his navigator. He'd not live much longer, a piece of metal had gone straight through him in the last barrage. Lucifer's lead ship, the Morning Star, stayed locked onto them. He'd gotten a few good hits in on Charlie's ship, she'd not be able to warp out of here.

Adam stared out the window, and decided he had one song left in him.

"Attention, this is your fucking Captain speaking. Abandon ship. Get to your escape pods and get your asses back to Peter's Gate space station." Adam barked out, feeling a sharp pain digging through him with every word. Lute started to protest behind him, but he carried on. "I'm not leaving the ship, I wouldn't survive the trip anyway. Lute is your new acting Captain. Now - fucking go already!"

There was chaos as his soldiers realized all hope was lost and the fight was over for them. Lute had tears running down her face, but Adam just shook his head.

"I gave you an order. Get out of here unless you want to die too." Adam said, without looking back up at her. Instead, he focused on yanking the chuck of metal out of his stomach. His white and gold suit had been stained a deep red. The only spot of human blood on the ship.

"Sir-" Lute moved closer, but Adam just flopped down into what was left of the Captain's chair.

"I'm not going down without one last trick up my sleeve. Get out of here before I bleed out. I'm giving you one minute to get to warp." Adam finally met her gaze with a weary grin. She knew what it meant, and it took her a moment to find the courage to do what she knew she had to.

Leave.

By the time he saw her escape pod launch from the port, and eventually flash away in a beam of light, Adam's vision had grown hazy. His entire body felt cold from blood loss, or maybe it was just the systems of the ship failing in the depths of space.

Either way, he had enough in him to punch in the self destruct codes.

Hopefully, he'd damaged enough of their ships warp cores that one wouldn't be able to flee, maybe even Charlie's ship. He doubted Lucifer's ship was damaged enough, but he could always dream. That's about all he'd be doing soon.

Adam sighed and looked out the window, wondering what Lucifer was thinking right now. It didn't need to be like this, if he hadn't rebelled, hadn't fucked Lilith and made that revolting hybrid. Lucifer could have been King of more than just the trash of the Galaxy. Lucifer had been more than that to Adam, once upon a time.

"I'll see you in hell, Lucifer." Adam said to himself, closing his eyes, as the countdown neared zero.

But explosion followed, none that Adam remembered. Which meant, he thought, that he'd died beforehand. Or maybe the nuclear blast was enough so that he died instantly before his brain or body had the chance to catch up with the feeling.

So, then, why was he thinking?

Adam opened his eyes to a bright white light, which he remembered from ancient human history as the description of an afterlife, before they'd mostly given up on religions. Two pairs of eyes seemed to appear above him, floating there in the brightness.

"God?" Adam mumbled in confusion.

"No, but you can call me that if you'd like, sweetheart." Lucifer said mockingly, and Adam's vision became more clear. "I saved your sorry ass before your ship went kablooey. You're now a prison of my Kingdom and my ring of coalition planets, Adam. We'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. How's mercy taste?" Lucifer's grin was sharp, pointed, predatory.

Adam remembered that ancient humans used to have another name for the devil.

Maybe he was in hell.

[bexiguess]

there are some absolutely excellent short hdg stories out there, and i felt it would be neat to compile some of my favorites :)

all of these fics are under 25k words, and i tried to limit myself to only include one work per author. however, most of these authors have multiple works and i highly recommend looking through their catalogs if their writing catches your interest! remember to always leave kudos and comments on works that you enjoy <3 :)

all hdg warnings apply to all of these stories. please read with caution and with your mental health first.

🌸 Last Man Standing by Tsunmene, 8.4k words

Summary

In 2551 CE, the Affini Compact and Terran Accord went to war. This was regarded by most parties as an unprofitable decision.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

Klaxon alarms blared, the three soldiers stopped what they were doing. A general alert was sounding. Enemy warship, by the time that the soldiers had lifted to their feet to take hold of their weapons, the telltale sounds of wrenching steel and slithering vines echoed through the halls. Shots could be heard, shortly followed by shouts of surprise and intervening cries of “finally!”.

This is it! This is it! This is finally it! Ohhhhh sweet mother of mercy I’m finally getting abducted by sexy plant women from beyond the sta-

🌸 Affini Royale by DancingOnTheAshes, 1.5k words

Summary

In the Affini's games only the Affini really win in the end, no matter how hard you try.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

Sammie stared at the floor, at her scuffed boots. "I uhm... I don't think I'm cut out for this, I'd like an owner... please." Her voice was small, her face red with shame. She knew the Affini could hear her though, they could hear a pin drop 100 meters away on a busy street.

🌸 Hunted! A Feral's Last Chance by ChillTheRose & PyxxieStyxx, 13.1k words

Summary

Welcome to Hunted! For our premier episode, we have a wonderful treat for you. A naughty little feralist was recently caught in their adorable little escape pod! In order to bring them in safely, a deal was struck. Derrick Schneider has to survive twelve hours in our wonderful little enclosure without surrendering to domestication! What exactly does Kigelia Paniculata, Second Bloom have in store for our prey? Tune in and find out~

Bexi's Favorite Bit

Step step slide, step step slide.

He blinked slowly, feeling the wind kiss his skin as he took a few steps into the clearing. Dimly, he tried to muster his thoughts, but they seemed to slip out of his fingers like sand. All he could seem to do was keep watching as it drew ever closer to him. It didn’t even appear to be looking at him, and he distantly wondered if this was all a strange dream. Then, as it stepped up right beside him, he saw a large arm swing out, wrapping around his waist. Another arm came out and gently held his right hand, completing the waltz position. He tried to struggle, to escape, to run. Or rather, he tried to try, but… instead, all he could do was follow its lead, his footsteps feeling slow and off-rhythm compared to the sweeping movements of his new partner. His eyes remained locked onto the weed’s, though he could see the flowers and vines in his periphery slowly flex and contract, as if it were breathing all around him. 

🌸 There are No Lies in the Affini Compact by annabool, 6.7k words

Summary

A ragtag band of the last few Terran rebels encounter a mysterious Affini and discover a shocking truth: why *yes*, they *would* make good pets!

Bexi's Favorite Bit

“Oh, dear, that looks like a dangerous toy.” A very dangerous toy, in Red’s estimation. “I’m only here to talk. There’s no need for that. I’m not even a very tough Affini. Why don’t you give that over here for the moment. I can keep it safe for you. I promise I’ll give it back if you ask nicely.”

It was very dangerous to carry. Given that they were only talking there wasn’t really any need for Red to actually carry it herself. If things did devolve into a brawl then she’d just ask for it back first and they’d continue where they left off. Red shrugged, clicked the weapon off, flipped it around in her hand, and held out the safe end towards the waiting affini.

“There’s a good girl.”

🌸 Stages of Succession by Gentle_Breeze, 10.7k words

Summary

A former Terran general, responsible for war crimes against Rinnian and Terran alike and intent on resisting her domestication, is taken on by a very tolerant owner. She intends to fight to the last.

Her owner knows she'll lose eventually.

A human domestication story.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

“Wait,” I ordered.

Sylvia paused and looked at me. I kept my eyes fixed on her chest.

“What is it?”

“You have to remain in this room with me for the next 45 minutes, so I can satisfy my addiction to you,” I stated plainly. There was no reason to try and hide it. She could feel the connection just as well as I could, if not better.

🌸 The Official Human Domestication Guide Holiday Special by SapphicSounds, 4.2k words

Summary

When actual independent cis guy Damien is asked by his affini neighbor to play the role of dress-up Santa at an affini holiday party, he's warned in advance that things tend to get a bit intense at such affairs, but nothing could truly have prepared for him the menagerie of kinky freaks (affectionate) who would soon line up to sit in Santa's lap. A silly HDG crackfic.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

“...You know I think you make a lovely and capable independent sophont, right?” 

“Yes, Menzi.”

“It’s just that if you ever were to decide otherwise I’d be happy to have you.”

“I know, Menzi.”

🌸 Thought I'd See You Again by Fluxom, 4.6k words

Summary

“Can I borrow your ear for a moment?” The affini’s voice froze the blood in Winter’s veins solid. Mentally, she reminded herself of the importance of her rules for slipping under affini’s attention. Be polite, follow orders quietly, *never* flirt back, and most importantly always give the sense of having somewhere else to be. These were important rules. Necessary rules! Otherwise it was far too easy to give one the wrong impression that you, perhaps, were even a bit interested in being bent into place as their pet and having your will crushed into a fine dust under their heels. However, for *this* affini in particular she was distinctly aware that most of these would not help.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

Winter stomached the part of herself that thought it was gross and bent down to pick up her fork, finding a vine stopping her before she could grab it. Of course. “Dear, that’s dirty now. Here, let’s use my set now.” Of course. Let’s. Plural. Winter had no doubt that Lamium’s idea consisted mostly of Winter passively accepting their help and- yeap, there it is. They already sliced off a piece of pancakes and speared it with their fork for her.

🌸 Wild and Domestic by moonchild69, 20.2k words

Summary

On a former Accord settlement that recently fell under Compact jurisdiction, an independent trans woman begins dating a floret. As the two grow closer, a question arises; Can she retain her independence as she spends more and more time around her new girlfriend's owner, and would it be so bad if she doesn't?

Bexi’s Favorite Bit

“How do you stay so cool all the time? In all the time that I've known you I don't think I've ever seen you look like you're anything but on top of the world.”

The older butch chuckled softly and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well, I could say it's decades of practice, but that'd be a load of dirt. Truth is... Life's been good lately. The company's gone, I'm no longer in debt, and I'm not busting my ass anymore. Got free medical, so all my aches and pains are gone, and I can even get cosmetic surgery any time I want. I used to basically be a prisoner on this planet in everything but name. Now I could choose to be almost anywhere if I felt like it, but I've got everything I want right here. It's a good feeling. Plus, there's this really sweet bunny gal I've been seeing. He's a little bit younger than me, but who gives a damn about that these days anyway?”

🌸 David, the Independent Terran by sheepwave, 6.3k words

**NSFW Art is embedded inside the work**

Summary

David is a cisgendered, heterosexual independent Terran living in the Affini compact. No, seriously. He actually is all of those things.

His buddies, of course, are now all queer transfem human pets, and this is a story about what parts of thier dynamic have changed, and what parts have stayed the same.

Bexi's Favorite Bit

The feeling in David’s chest of wanting to touch the girl now leaning her head on his shoulder was overpowering. He felt guilty, almost, for the thoughts going through his head. Her pretty little collar marked her as a pet to be cared for and he did feel genuinely protective of her. She was so cute like this, but she had also definitely just brushed against his dick through his jeans on purpose. 

Raya took advantage of the fact that the two best players were now very distracted by each other, and scored first place for the first time all night. She turned to them with the widest grin David had ever seen her catlike face make. “David. Jessica. Go fuck each other, I can practically smell the pheromones from here.”

🌸 Heartsong by FemKUltra, 5.9k words

Summary

Adrienne Miller is getting ready for a date with her friend who happens to be an Affini. Just one problem though, she has forgotten to take her Class-C inhibitors. Surely it will be fine, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Bexi's Favorite Bit

“The first time we met, when I accidentally got entranced in your biorhythm it was really scary, and I really appreciated how you gently pulled me out, helped me calm down, and then taught me about the inhibitors. Since then I’ve really gotten to know you, you’ve become a big part of my life. I’ve introduced you to my friends, I’ve even met your floret, but the thing is, I want to be close to you, but when I take the blockers it feels like I’m hitting the mute button on a part of you, a really important part.” You pause for the briefest of moments as you find the resolve to make your feelings clear. “If I can be really honest, now that I know I can trust you, part of me longs to feel the connection we had one more time, and the rest of me is running out of reasons why I shouldn’t."

[suzie-shooter]

Alex Rider season 3 unhinged liveblog ramblings scribbled during first watch. Spoilers, obvs. (also fair warning, I am not particularly a fan of Tom or Kyra lol)

Episode 1 - Widow

S2 recap trivia - Alex's therapist is Molly Doran from Slow Horses and married to Alan Blunt IRL

Malta: Ok, so we're not just going to pretend it's Venice lol.

Creepy old men already hitting on Alex. Standard.

"After this we're out of leads." How do you even have any leads in the first place? Oh ok, Smithers' phone. Terrible security protocols from him, leaving that much historical classified data on it.

"Find the Widow - surely he could have given you an address?" First thing Tom's ever said I've agreed with lmao

Aaaand within a second he's back to being deeply irritating, okay.

Yassen living rent free in Alex's head, you love to see it.

"They've got this picture of me being the responsible one." Have Tom's parents actually met him?

Ooh Razim mention.

You maybe want to clean that wound before whacking a dressing on it Alex?

"Do you think you'll ever lose your appetite Nile?" Spat my drink.

Damn, no harem pants then. Scrubs up well tho.

Listing Levin in the opening credits than having him be only a S2 flashback should be a warcrime.

Episode 2 - Lab

"This weapon is called pork sword, wait, no, shit, wrong USB."

"Julia Rothman. Definitely a wrong un." Spat my drink again.

Do Crawley and Pritchard not warrant helmets and visors? Are they somehow immune to shrapnel?

So, room 6, wired to blow, yes? It's what I'd do…

Oh yeah sure guys, they're going to still be sitting there, all unmoving in the dark, for sure that's a person, and not a Massive Trap.

Thereeeee we go. Agent mince. Top of your class huh, well you're certainly at the top now, and down the sides and partially out of the window.

I know there's the whole 'characters don't know what genre they're in' thing but you are literally in the 'working for MI6 genre', you are up against people notorious for booby traps and blowing shit up, why the fuck would you touch something that hadn't been declared safe first? Apart from anything else you're fucking up the scene before forensics get there.

"I love you man." Vom.

Alex: breaks into super sekkrit lab. Also Alex: doesn't have the faintest fucking idea what he's looking at, so not really helpful.

COMICALLY LARGE BOMB KLAXON.

Episode 3 - Enemy

"Welcome to Malagosto." OooOOooh.

Maybe I'm just looking at it from a fic writer's perspective but it does seem a massive anticlimax to immediately let Tom and Kyra know Alex is okay? Like, you could have got a good couple of episodes of angst out of that uncertainty.

"Do you want me to kill them?" Oh God yes please.

Why the fuck have they plugged the USB directly into the network rather than an isolated PC? 'Hur dur we checked it first', you literally believe Scorpia are smart enough to not be bluffing about the nebulous death threat but you don't think they could hide something on the hardware? Fuck's sake lads. Amateur hour.

Is this Home Secretary meant to be Suella Braverman? Or Priti Patel maybe lol. (Equal rights and all that, and if it had been a white male character I don't think I would have thought twice about the dialogue but having both your two new female characters be immediately proved wrong/ massively patronised/ blown up ain't hugely comfortable viewing tbh).

HOW MANY FICS INVOLVING ALEX GETTING FUCKED ON THAT BED HAVE JUST BEEN BORN?

"Are you suggesting we break into a dead man's house?" "It's not like he's going to be there." 😂

"He became a very close friend of mine." Fnar.

Omg making Alex read his father's love letters is hilarious.

Alex: you could have faked that news report Also Alex: handwriting can definitely never be faked (how is Alex even familiar with his dead father's handwriting? wouldn't recognise mine)

Ugh please stop trying to make Alex/Kyra happen.

Alex up the vent shaft. I hope they're sitting casually at the top going - you could have just taken the stairs love.

If he's climbing upwards, why is his hair dangling like he's upside down? Have they filmed this like 60's Batman, and he's just crawling along a horizontal set lol.

Alex never once asks about his mother does he. Given the shagger-John route they seem to have gone down you almost think Julia would be in a better shout of getting Alex to switch sides by claiming to be his mother.

And - yeah, Alex's recruitment just doesn't feel that convincing here. Adding Tom/Kyra/Jack so much to the mix has changed the feel of his life a lot, and TV verse Alex has had a lot less fucking over by the Department by this point too. And Rothman feels too creepy to be effectively convincing him of anything.

"I want you to meet your tutor." FUCK YES FINALLY 🙌 (may have rewound that part several times lol)

Episode 4 - Recruit

Nicaragua: 18 years ago OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING

Baby Yassen is adorable, I'm in love.

OH MY GOD THAT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE FUCKIN SPIDER THING

OH MY GOD THE REVEAL OF HIM STANDING OVER THE SLEEPING ALEX I'M DEAD

(Ok, I'm calm again. For now. We continue.)

"You killed my uncle" - all the hundreds of ways this conversation has been written over the years and Yassen's just like lol get over it 😂 (here for it tbh)

Rothman: He's one of our best Yassen: One of? Bitch.

Yassen watching Alex train like 👀👀

"Did he ever tell you you're no fun?" Oh you want to have FUN with Yassen do you?

Yassen bitchslapping Alex to fuck, both hilarious and hot.

Oh, you want to be WET wet.

"Matteo's the guy with the blanket." Why is that so funny.

Omg Yassen stepping in to protect his boy and humiliating Nile in the process lol. And Alex doing what Yassen tells him, because of course he does 🥰

"This one is my responsibility" 🥰🥰

"What about love, friendship?" Alex has only known Yassen five minutes and is already down bad.

"Kind of lonely though, right?" Yeah, Yassen needs you at his side Alex, so step up and stop being a whiny little bitch about killing people.

Never get in the first taxi, rule one of espionage.

Yep, called it. Tom's like: I'll have my fucking tip back in that case.

This scene is so dark I have no fucking idea what's going on, I thought Nile had attacked Alex, but apparently not. Is Nile officially part of this exercise or not, it seems really unclear lol.

The power of friendship and sparklerabbits saves the day, apparently. Yawn.

Jesus, we really ATE with this ep, huh.

Episode 5 - Revenge

"Would you rather your arms around me, or my arms around you?" Way to make it creepy Tom you skeevy fuck.

"Can we focus please?" "We're multi-tasking."

Sure Grendel, rock up to the super sekkrit spy base in a massively conspicuous car why don't you?

"Yassen will give you everything you need." Oh I BET he will.

Feels sloppy them not removing the diffuser from the vent tbh.

"What does this say?" Alex hasn't inherited John's neat handwriting then lol. Alex leaning into him like that > me making noises only dogs can hear.

"You've put lockpick?" "I left my last one in Nile."

Ooh, suicide pill, nasty. Kind've pointless though, given they've been left with the evidence anyway.

Yassen in Alex's bedroom again, likely place for him to be.

"I don't want you to fail. I don't want you to die." 🥹💕🥰

Yalex roadtrip, let's goooo.

Disappointed they're not making Alex do the Entrapment infrared acrobatic sequence here lol.

If this is Yassen's idea of a date it definitely needs work.

So no surprise scorpions then? Can't have shit in Detroit Malta.

"Why? Why did she kill him?" Well taking things at face value here he was a highly murderous member of a terrorist organisation, so you know, kind've her job.

Yassen does like a casual lean, doesn't he.

Episode 6 - Target

Alex and Yassen have shacked up in London, hope there's only one bed.

Now they're in the back of a van, SO many opportunities for shagging, they're spoilt for choice.

Yassen's impressed look when Alex reels off all the security details, so proud of his boy.

"What happened to my mum?" Finally he wonders lol.

"And I'm good at it. You could be too." 🥹

"You think Alex killed him?" I mean, he was also there with a notorious assassin, so probably not, y'know.

Domestic Yassen cooking Alex's dinner and also cooking him a gun lol.

Smithers' "How I've missed you" ahahaha. Smithers/Kyra much better pairing tbh.

"He's actually quite good at this stuff." Smithers' little snort lmao

Time for Alex to be blacked up/ dunked in a teabag bath/ gussied up. Although he still looks exactly like Alex afterwards, which feels less useful lol.

"You love him, don't you?" Yassen loves him more. I have to say Alex had far more chemistry with Syl, and frankly for that matter with Tom. I really don't get the Kyra agenda.

"It's a dry hole." Alex's worst nightmare.

Is Alex going to look through Mrs Jones' knicker drawer?

Episode 7 - The Shot

Mrs Jones and her tall murderous hobbit son lol. Otto really looks about 58 here.

Hope they bill him for her fucked up fridge.

Is that Bath? Oh, it is.

Mrs Jones casually throwing Alex back into play lol. Maybe she can have a little revenge for him trying to shoot her.

"Everyone breaks into houses." Jack's face lol

Ewww put him down, you don't know where he's been (Yassen's bed, almost certainly)

"Remember they can't hurt you unless you invite them in." "That's vampires."

Yassen arguing in favour of going to rescue Alex MY HEART

"Sit down. I'm going to tell you a story. About your friend, John Rider." HOLY PLOTHOLE TIMELINE PATCHING BATMAN

"John was embedded inside Scorpia for three years." Not the only thing he was embedded in by the sounds of it.

Alex seems to be hallucinating again lol.

Yassen, maybe psychoanalysing your insane boss isn't the safest thing to be doing?

"It's quite mad Julia." Yassen really gives no shits omfg

"I know my place." Yes, at Alex's side.

I like how Julia thought telling Yassen she'd killed John would do anything other than piss him off lol.

Episode 8 - Invisible Sword

"But you do owe me a new fridge." LOLLLLLL

Crawley feeling like a spare part during this lift convo, hahaha

"Smithers, you can do me some kind of tracker, right?" "Yeah, if you promise to keep it on you this time."

Alex is like ohshit I'm gonna die fr

"Not for the agents. They undid their seatbelts." Eyyyyyyyy 👉

Aww they've given him a little baby assassin outfit, how cute.

Where's Yassen, has he just fucked off to the pub?

"For the head of Scorpia, you're a really bad liar."

Laughing at all the other Scorpia agents having to listen to this convo about their boss like we are not paid enough for this shit 😬

"Everyone else is getting what they want, let me have my cereal."

Protecting his boy to the last. Yassen really is purely on Alex's side, we love to see it.🥰

And OMG HE LIVESSSSSSSS 🙌🙌🙌🙌 (I voted yes in that poll, I had faith lol)

Well that was - far more fanservice than I dared hope for, after the meagre pickings we got in the first two series. Yalex supremacy to the motherfucking end, let's go.

[altschmerzes]

Please take this to use in an emergency 🫱🌹

THANK YOU i would like to use this now as an excuse to post another clip from wriggle up on dry land, which i am hoping to get a new chapter up for in the next couple days

this is from Much later in the fic-

There is a pause wherein Ted very seriously considers not answering the phone, but ultimately he picks it up and swipes the screen, holding it up to his ear with a, “Hello?” that probably sounds as bewildered as he feels given the lack of caller ID and the late hour. “Coach Lasso?” is the hesitant greeting he receives. Immediately, alarm bells begin to go off in Ted’s brain. This is an unknown number, calling Ted pretty late at night, and on the other end of the call is a young voice that he can’t immediately place and it sounds completely freaked out. The voice then clarifies, “This is Shannon Cross. You said, uh, you said the other day to call you if anything ever… ever happened. With Jamie.” Whatever alarm bells had begun to ring then proceed to become full-on sirens, screaming klaxons drowning out much of Ted’s coherent thought. “Did something happen?” It’s a highly redundant question to ask and Ted knows this, but Shannon seems like she might need the guidance to get to the answer. Even the quiet on the other end of the line is uncertain and alive with frightened energy. “Yeah, it’s… Yeah. Something- Yeah.”

[llondonfog]

For the Three sentence meme fic how about Lilia comforting little silver after he has a nightmare?

[✐meme] three sentence fic meme

Nightmares were not things that belonged to the boy at his side— they were made for Lilia's ilk, for those whose dark deeds had carved insurmountable fractures deep into their desiccated souls.

Silver sniffles quietly into his shoulder, the fabric dampening from his near silent tears, and Lilia wishes he could force his dreams to take physical form, to render them useless with a twist of his sword until any cruel imaginings that caused the boy misery under the cowardice of darkness were defeated once and for all.

(A distant part of him marvels at the ferocity of such a nonsensical wish— since when did the Phantom Commander of Briar Valley deal in such foolish, unattainable notions?)

The child's arms tighten desperately around his neck (ah— that's when), and Lilia finds himself crooning softly in the corpse of a language he had long since forgotten, one hand resting gently against the back of that moon-spun hair as he soothes his fingers carefully through the silken strands, minding the tips of his talons against the boy's vulnerable scalp.

"I— I couldn't find you, Papa," Silver hiccups miserably, words thick and muffled against Lilia's increasingly tear-stained nightshirt. "I kept calling and calling for you— it was so dark, and I was all alone, you weren't there!"

Lilia wonders if it's possible, if the boy could dream of that night so long ago. If he could remember the silence of the woods, the darkness of the new moon overhead, the bated breath of a world that had set the two most unlikely paths on a course to collide.

He wonders if it's possible that anyone should consider it a nightmare that General Vanrouge did not come.

"My, that does sound scary," he whispers, reaching for the stuffed toy bat that had wound up jumbled in the tangled sheets and situating it back in its rightful place within Silver's arms. "But it also seems to me that you were very brave, little one."

" . . . Brave?" The tears may have stopped as Silver fusses with the bat plush, but he still rubs a tiny hand against his wet lashes, a prominent frown of distress clinging to his round features. "But—"

"You kept trying to find me, yes?" Lilia murmurs, and he can't help but smile at the way the boy screws up his face in thought, still attempting to press the point. "By calling for me, you helped me to find you, child. I will always come when you call me, I was here to wake you up, wasn't I?"

He doesn't need to mention that Silver's upset cries had brought Lilia out of sleep faster than any klaxon battle warning, stricken with fear that something had happened to the boy and ready to smite any unwelcome figure in their home.

All that matters now is the way those downturned lips shift into a contemplative line, the beginnings of awe trickling into a wide-eyed auroral gaze at the very notion that he had been the one to help his ever-capable Papa.

"And I promise, I will always be there to do so, Silver." Lilia holds his son close and thinks of an abandoned cradle, all cold and lonely in the Briar Valley woods, thinks of what tragedies the baby inside must have seen beyond its comprehension.

"I will never let you wake up in fear alone again."

[fixatedonfandom]

Aw, Hell

this is a pre-EngieScout fic :3 idea shamelessly stolen from @hanktalkin in this gorgeous post about ol' Engie's legendary temper, and the one thing proven to cool it off

This is the lightest and brightest thing I've ever written it made me feel like skipping through a field of daisies

I don't claim this to be the pinnacle of my writing but I do claim it to be darn cute and self-indulgent. If it reads strangely that's because I wrote this as a message from the divine. Thank you <3

~~~~

After four long hours of battle, and round after round of humiliating RED Team losses, the klaxon wailed and hailed the end of the work day for the poor fellows down in Teufort, New Mexico. The BLUs marched out with high heads and gloating smiles, and retreated to their locker rooms to count out bet money and crack open some beers. The REDs trudged through blood-clotted sand puddles to their lockers and scraped their heels in the door frame, with uniforms lousy, torn, and sweat-soaked beyond the good of washing. No blistering smiles, or cheerful banter, and not really much noise at all save for the slamming-open of the locker doors and the clatter of guns, hats, and accoutrements to the benches and the floors.

It was an ugly series of rounds, and an uglier loss overall, made worse with some faulty equipment (Scout’s headset had been acting up the whole day, Sniper’s best scope had a scratch), bad calls, and plum poor luck. Not a man in that room was happy, but none more pure and pissed than the good Engineer Dell Conagher.

He stomped his path to his standing locker and ripped the door near off of its hinges, and hurled his favored pipe wrench into the wall with a cantankerous CLANG.

“Dammit!” The man bellowed, tearing the canary-yellow hardhat from his head and throwing that to the concrete as he bitched. “God-dammit! We had them bastards on the goddamned ropes!”

It was true. Their losing rounds had been consecutive, frustrating, and downright embarrassing at times, but they hadn’t all been hopeless. The midpoint of round 10 had given RED a crucial break in the BLU’s push for the second point. RED Heavy begot a dead BLU Heavy, RED Sniper begot a dead BLU Soldier, and a pissy RED Medic begot a dead (and grossly dismembered) BLU Demoman. With that much space to breathe, and that much time for the Engineer to rush-upgrade his ballistic turret, they could’ve held that point much, much longer.

But that damn BLU Spy, and his damn BLU sapper. That solid hold they'd had fell apart about as hard and as fast as Engie’s turret had when he turned his back at the wrong time.

“Damn Spies…” Engie muttered through his clenched jaw. He was grinding his teeth together so tightly one could imagine he was trying to make corn flour in his molars. “I’m so damn mad I could spit.”

It wasn’t an often sight for the other 8 men to see the Engineer so hot. He was American, a people who could be known for their flaming tempers, and he was a Texan to boot, but Engie was cool-headed at the worst of times and could even be downright tranquil at the best. Never one to holler, shout, or scream at his fellow teammates in anger even in the thick of a losing battle, even if any one of them was being an obvious flaming idiot. He was a quick-witted, level-headed, stoic sentry of a man. That’s likely why his anger wasn’t much like a firecracker, but more of a pressure cooker left to stew for too-little too-long.

He radiated anger like heat, and one could hear his developing migraine beating a pissed-off rhythm in his skull from down a long hallway. It was the kind of slow, rough, abrasive anger that killed people for breathing too loud too close.

The last time he'd gotten all up-in-arms like he looked right then, the team had elected to ignore the bellows and crashes coming under the base from his workshop, only realizing the extent of the damage when they'd found a mangled experiment tossed out by the dumpster, scorched and twisted beyond recognition or repair.

So, lest he be compelled to show the rest of the boys what his old pipe wrench was good for beyond sentries and dispensers, it was silently agreed among the rest of the RED men that the best course of action would be to stay out of the Engineer’s way when he was stewing. 

The sticking point of a silent agreement, however, was that it wasn’t much good for a man who was as tone-deaf and emotionally unobservant as a fart in a funeral. The good RED Scout happened to be one of those sorts of men.

When Engie’s tight-lipped curses became mutters and huffs, Scout, who had been undoing his hand wraps, looked up and said, “Hey, Eng."

Shoulders tensed and hands stilled across the room, though Scout didn’t seem to catch any of that. Engie inhaled and bit out, “What, Scout?”

“Whaddayou call a mix between an elephant and a rhino?”

Immediately, the other REDs shuffled away from the scene, doing what they could to get cleaned up and get out of there before the pot boiled over. Scout was annoying; everyone knew this. He could try the patience of a saint. He seemed to know intrinsically the buttons of everyone he met and exactly how to push them. They’d seen him send people from zero to pissed in a few short sentences. None of them thought he’d be stupid enough to try and antagonize the Engineer, though. Not even Pyro played with that much fire.

Engie shook his head, then dragged his hands real slow down his face. “What?”

Scout chuffed, snorted back at him, “‘El-if-I-know!”, then hunkered over in choked off giggles that turned into the loudest sound in the room.

Engie didn’t chuckle, didn’t hardly smile, just pushed his lips together and started shucking his toolbelt to put it away.

When Scout collected himself he started on his left hand wrap, glanced mischievously over his shoulder, and said again, ”I got another one”

“Lad.”

That was Demo on the bench across from Scout a little ways away. He fought to catch Scout’s eye and, when he did, shook his head very slowly to warn him off.

Scout shrugged, like he was saying, ‘What?’.

Demo shook his head again and nudged it in the direction of the Engineer, trying to draw attention to his drawn-up shoulders and the steam practically coming out of his ears.

Scout just looked between him and Engie, he did it a few times, then shrugged again. ‘What?’

While Demo tried to come up with the most intelligent way to go about getting Scout to see what was right in front of his damn eyes, Scout went back to Engie.

“Whaddayou call a cop that’s asleep in a bed?” Scout got the last of his wraps off, and he turned a little further in his seat on the bench. “Huh?”

Everyone in the room had their eyes on Engie- Scout in mischief, the others anxiously. Engie worked his goggles off his face and rubbed his real hand over the indents they left under his eyes. He sniffed, then said, “What?”

The stupid smile on Scout’s face grew ten sizes. He managed to hiccup, “an undercover officer,” before losing himself in laughter once more and hunching over, just short of collapsing in his giggles.

He didn’t hear Engie sigh, didn’t see him shake his head tightly, or flex his jaw, but the others did. They glanced amongst themselves with obvious trepidation, obvious to all but two.

“Scout, lad.” Demo scooted further down his bench. “Read the room.”

“What?” Scout responded when his laughter calmed down. “Fuck you, that was a good one. Not my fault he don’t have a sense’a humor.”

Demo shook his head, then turned back to unlacing his boots. “Your funeral, laddie.”

Scout just scoffed at that. He fixed his hat on his head, and took his headset off and tossed it in his open locker, seeming not to care if it broke. He was getting a new one before the next match. 

“Wait.” He suddenly perked up and turned his head back over his shoulder. “Hey, Eng.”

Engie pinched the ridge of his nose.

“Engie! Hey!” said Scout. 

Demo leaned back over, about to hiss at him to shut his trap, but Engie grumbled before he could. “What, Scout?”

“This is the last one, I swear.”

“Damnit, Scout-” Engie mumbled.

 “C’mon, last one.”

When Engie said not a word, Scout persisted.

“Whaddayou call a solider whose survived mustard gas and pepper spray?”

Soldier’s head popped up, but Pyro was quick to wrap a hand over Soldier’s mouth and pull him back down before he started shouting in the tense atmosphere.

Scout scooched back and nudged Engie with his elbow. “Huh? Whaddayou call ‘em?”

Engie’s gloved hand tightened on the door of his locker. A creak was heard coming from it, and Engie was slowly and surely forcing five finger-sized divots into the metal where he gripped it.

A painful silence came and went before he responded, “What, Scout?”

Scout muffled a snort, and took just a second to compose himself, then answered.

“A seasoned veteran.”

Scout’s giggling started up again. Engie breathed in deeply. His eyes closed, and the Gunslinger tightened its grip like a pneumatic clamp. Then he exhaled.

As he did, though, his shoulders started shaking, and his door-grip faltered. The tight lines of his face loosened like uncoiled wires, and his breath…

He was laughing.

The rest of the REDs watched in shock when Engie threw his head back and released a bark of laughter that shattered the tension in the air like glass.

Scout whooped and hollered when he heard it, and leapt up from the bench and threw his arm over Engies shoulder with his other fist raised in victory. They were both laughing harder than that stupid joke called for, but they cackled and chortled like it was easier than breathing. Engie’s face was turning redder and redder, and soon he was bending over to lean on his knees while Scout leaned right on him.

“I knew it! I fuckin’ knew I’d get you!” Scout howled. “I fuckin’ told you!”

Engie shook his head and rubbed his hands down his face for the last time, but they came away to reveal a shameful, resigned, yet bright smile on his face. He leaned right back up against Scout when he straightened out and jabbed him in the ribs to get him to lay off.

“Aw, hell, boy,” He said through light chuckles. “Those were damn awful. Damn awful. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Hey, look who's talkin’, chuckles,” Scout said right back. “That one wasn’t even a good one!”

“You’re damn right about that.” The laughter had begun to calm, but the vestiges of it remained on both of their faces. 

Engie slammed the door of his locker shut (not minding the handprint-shaped divot that kept it from closing properly) and Scout kicked the door of his to do the same. They made identical clangs. Engie sauntered towards the door of the locker room with both hands in his back pockets, and Scout sidled up next to him and started to go on about how he ‘couldn’t believe that stupid soldier joke was the one that made him crack’.

Engie chuckled and nodded along, but stopped them both when he sniffed and Scrunched his face up.

“What?” Scout asked.

“Christ alive, boy.” Engie huffed hard through his nostrils like he was trying to blow to smell out. “You need a shower worse than I do. That’s sayin’ somethin’.”

Scout shoved his shoulder. “Hey, fuck you. I’m starving, dude. Food first.”

 “Not a snowball’s chance in Teufort I'm lettin’ you be near me smellin’ like that, roadrunner.” Engie shook his head, and nudged him back with his own shoulder. “I’ll tell you what: You shower, I’ll cook. That way you won’t kill everyone in this base and we won’t have to put up with your bitchin’.

“Fine. Whatever.” Then Scout nudged him right back, and they found themselves in a tiny shoving match where they kept pushing back and forth with their shoulders. “Breakfast for dinner?”

The remaining six REDs watched in silence as they left the room, joyful and tame. It was only when they were gone, hearing Engie’s voice echo down the hall saying something about sausage gravy, that any of them spoke up.

"The hell was that?" Sniper muttered.

“‘m I jus’ drunk off my ass…” Demo ventured, and dropped his foot off the bench to lean on his knees and stare down the empty doorway like everyone else. “Or did any of you lads see what I just seen?” 

“If you mean the fact that Scout had attempted to annoy our Engineer, yet we’re not currently picking his remains off the floor,” Spy responded, his smoldering cigarette hanging from his lips. “Then yes. We all did.”

Medic and Heavy, who had been standing near each other through the whole exchange, glanced at each other, at the empty doorway, and back again.

“I see…” Medic murmured, mostly to himself. “Very interesting.”

No one asked him what he was thinking. Most every man in that room was thinking the same thing.

“They will tell us when ready,” Heavy said, sagely, and turned to close his locker door. 

That was a good enough answer for the rest of them, too.

~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!! I didn't really edit this so if you notice any glaring issues feel free to point them out. Still debating whether or not I wanna publish this on ao3 but I probably will so don't panic if you see it there too

The engiescout in this was not intended to be overt. I wanted to stay close to the spirit of the og textpost and make it seem like maybe Scout and Engie themselves don't really realize their own connection and everyone else sees it before they do, but I also didn't wanna make it too subtle.

This is also partially for just_mebs for dragging me into this hell ship so thanks to him

[audrxyweasley]

New fic klaxon!!! This was originally meant to be a one shot which is why I didn’t post a little teaser beforehand here whoops but chapter one of Keep Moving Forward chapter one here we are! Chapter two will be posted on the second, followed by chap three on the twelfth!

Keep Moving Forward: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood

He had tried to have this conversation before, to force the words out of his throat time and time again, at every dinner for the past 3 months in fact, curbing his appetite to the point that even Bill had pulled him aside to see how he was doing, apparently concerned that Percy’s sudden change in eating habits (when exclusively surrounded by 10 or more members of his family) were some strange manifestation of his guilt from the war. He’d almost had to laugh, had he not been so touched by the fact Bill had even bothered to reach out to him. It was a stark difference from the way things had been five years earlier.

And so, Percy found himself sitting at the table with trembling hands as he forced himself to clear his throat. “I…Mother, would it be alright with you if I brought someone to dinner next week?”

[megamindsupremacy]

Star Wars Fic Recs (Part 5)

crawl home by skatzaa

The door hissed open, and there was Obi-Wan, hair still long and incredibly unflattering, beard a little longer than the last time Quinlan saw him, robe draped perfectly over his shoulders so it flared out dramatically around his legs.

They stared at one another for a long second, Obi-Wan with his hands folded serenely into his sleeves, Quinlan listing sideways in his sparring position. Then Obi-Wan told him, “Quinlan Vos, you look like banthashit.”

-

Cody’s jedi(s) by Gabriel4sam

General Kenobi's bad habits get worse when General Vos is near, and the explosions only get bigger. Cody regrets it less than people could believe.

-

Unfamiliar purpose by darthpumpkinspice

After the purge, and after Asajj, Quinlan Vos reconnects with an old friend in an unexpected place. -

on wanting and being wanted back (in ways beyond the romantic) by PhoenixThirteen

Anakin is not accepted into the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan makes good on his promise and leaves with him.

-

Unmake me (not for long) by lionfire42

It is a tool. A weapon. Meant to serve. It's opinions are neither needed nor existant. It's made to follow orders. Pain is negligible, a sign of insubordination, of weakness. Tools do not feel pain. They are honed then used and then honed again.

Or

The Winter Soldier!Ahsoka AU. -

Unbowed by spacewall

Padmé Amidala wakes up in the hospital and learns her child is dead, her husband has fallen, and the system she fought so hard to save is broken. She does not give in. Under the watchful eyes of her senate colleagues, she never surrenders.

--

About six months after E day, Amidala stopped mourning, stopped matching Vader. She went out and spent an exorbitant amount of money – her family was wealthy, she was a senator, and she had a queen’s pension – on an entirely new wardrobe. There was no black or white, and none of the queenly, regal dignity people had come to associate with her. She dressed like a bird, trying to grab the attention of the nearest mate: blue and green and silver, purple and gold, massive earrings in the shape of solar systems. She dyed her hair gold. She ensured the eyes of the world were on her at all times.

Vader started leaving every room she entered, rather than the other way around.

-

Come down from your mountain by stormwarnings

Fox finally settles on something close enough to all of those, but just a step to the right. “Are they usually like that? Unnerving?"

“Always,” Gree says, those eyes that never miss a single detail. “Every single one of them.”

(Seven clone commanders gathering for a drink, and their reflections on war, love, and Jedi.)

-

Luminous objects by spacewall

Teetering on the edge of darkness, an unexpected call from his grandpadawan forces Dooku of Serenno to see himself as a Jedi once more. Anakin Skywalker, and the galaxy as a whole, will never be the same.

--

A retelling (or re-imagining) beginning after The Phantom Menace, with significant canon divergence. Mostly gen. Tags updated as events warrant, content/trigger warnings delivered in notes by chapter to avoid spoilers.

-

The Coruscant Guard is Compromised

It ripples through the link again and again, a hurricane siren, a klaxon, both warning and desperate plea. Fox hopes it will be enough.

The Coruscant Guard is compromised.

-

Sometimes ‘better’ is all there is by shadowspires

Kix hears a voice outside.

It cuts straight through duty, and the grief that weighs on him every day, and slices straight into his soul.

A brother’s voice.

[clone-medic-patch]

Patch Fic Snippet!

This is a snippet from my fic, “A Series of Hard Knocks” featuring my OC Patch.

Warnings for panic attacks, PTSD and mild self-injurious behavior.

For context: Patch was stationed with the 501st on a temp basis after Umbara, but still has a lot of trauma from the Malevolence attack, which is the main focus of this fic snippet. Also, Dogma was semi-pardoned for killing Krell in this fic, and has been doing community service in medbay since then.

Enjoy!

Patch always heard klaxons in his dreams. Wailing sirens, flashing lights, and shuddering ships were familiar to his subconscious mind. Maybe that’s why he didn’t wake up to the Resolute’s evacuation drill until Tup was shaking his shoulder, shouting, “Come on, Patch. We’ve gotta go!” 

Reality crashed into Patch like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under. Before his mind could process his surroundings, he was already standing, following the other troopers as they exited the barracks. Brain jolting in horror, his breath caught in his throat, and he could feel himself tremble with every blaring siren.

The flashing lights in the hallway were what brought him to a stuttering halt. Letting out a choked whimper, he leaned against a wall. His knees gave out underneath him, breaths coming in quick and shallow. Patch squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his empty forearms hard enough to hurt, entire body shaking. 

Part of him knew he needed to get moving, that he couldn’t get left behind, but his armor was back in the barracks, along with every one of his favorite coping strategies, and his shaking limbs refused to support his weight. Hyperventilating, he could practically hear the escape pod groaning as the life-support systems broke down.

Meanwhile, Dogma was passing through the hallway near the barracks. It was his first week back in his own bunk, and it still felt wrong to be safely nestled above Tup, listening to the quiet snores of his brothers, so he’d been wandering the halls waiting for sleep to come when the drill started. Rounding the corner, he nearly tripped over Patch before he caught himself.

“What the– Patch?”

Shaking his head frantically, Patch sat crumpled on the hallway floor, lost in a flashback and muttering to himself, “No no no no no–!” 

Dogma gave the medic a look of confusion, closely followed by a jolt of alarm, remembering his quiet admissions during group sessions about destroyed Venators and dying escape pods. Even now, he could see the older trooper hyperventilating, nails digging into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

“H-Hey, don’t do that.” He exclaimed, trying to get Patch to stop gripping his arms so tightly, but Patch didn’t even acknowledge his existence, still shuddering in panic.

Dogma shook his head, trying to think of a new approach. At this rate, Patch’s tight grip was definitely going to leave a mark. “Stop that– uh, here!” 

With a grunt of realization, he crouched next to the medic, unclipping his own bracers before starting to attach them to Patch’s arms to give him at least a little bit of protection. Thankfully, this seemed to jolt Patch back to reality, just a little, and he loosened his grip just long enough for Dogma to finish. 

For a moment, this seemed to help, and Patch’s breathing slowed a little bit as he ran a hand along the armor pieces. But then, to Dogma’s alarm, his breath hitched and a few tears started to fall.

“Hey, d-don’t cry!” Dogma’s hands froze as he watched, but this only made him cry harder, just barely audible over the warning klaxons. Dogma’s breath caught in his throat; he was incredibly out of his depth. 

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his comlink from his belt and tried to comm Tup. Tup would know what to do. He listened to it beep a few times, but the call refused to connect. ‘He must’ve left his comm in the barracks,’ Dogma thought with dismay. 

But Patch was still shaking, eyes filled with unshed tears, so he tried again, this time calling Hardcase. Hopefully medbay hadn’t been dragged into the evacuation drill. When the comlink chirped, Dogma gave an audible sigh of relief.

“What is it, Dogma? It’s 0200.” Hardcase groaned, still sounding half-asleep.

“Patch is crying.” Dogma’s voice was tense with nerves as he watched the medic. 

“What?! What happened?”

“I don’t know! Probably something to do with the evac drill. How— W-What do I do?”

“He’s crying right now? Like, in front of you?” Hardcase was sounding increasingly concerned, and not nearly awake enough for this. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” 

“Then give him a hug or something! Don’t just stand there watching him!” 

“A hug?”

He could practically hear Hardcase’s facepalm. “Yes, with your arms! Hang the kriff up and comfort him!”

Dogma’s eyes widened in trepidation. “Uh, I’ll try, but–”

“And get someone to turn the kriffing alarms off!” He heard Hardcase say something else, presumably to a medic in medbay, and then the comm call cut off, leaving him alone again. 

In the short time it had taken to call Hardcase, it looked like Patch had calmed down a little more, but his hands still shook visibly as he sat curled up around his knees, letting out a quiet hiccup every now and then. Dogma took a deep breath, bracing himself before wrapping a stiff arm around Patch’s shoulders.

Patch flinched slightly before leaning into the touch, so Dogma offered him a hand, which he gripped tightly. Hardcase must’ve called someone, because the lights stopped flashing and the alarms petered off, and finally Patch could breathe again. 

The medic opened his eyes, finally starting to register his surroundings. With an exhale of relief, he slumped into Dogma’s side. He looked up, blinking in surprise as he began to realize what happened.

“...H-Hey kid. Sorry about that.” His voice was hoarse, and his ears burned with embarrassment as he gave Dogma a sheepish look. He took a few grounding breaths, trying to look a bit less like he was falling apart at the seams. 

“It’s okay… a-are you alright?” Dogma asked, stiffening slightly.

Patch quirked his head to one side, mentally scanning himself before answering honestly. “No, but I will be… c-can we head back to the barracks? I’d like to grab the rest of my armor before Kix or Coric drags me off to medical.” He could already feel his forearms burning, but he made a noise of surprise when he noticed that the bracers on his arms weren’t his own. 

Dogma nodded, fumbling for a moment before standing up, giving Patch a hand. “Sure, uh– can you stand?”

Giving a grunt of affirmation, Patch took Dogma’s hand gratefully. He sniffled, trying to avoid getting any more tears and snot on Dogma’s loaned armor, if he could help it. “Yeah, ‘m good.”

With slow steps, the duo made it back to the barracks. Dogma was quick to help Patch locate his armor, awkwardly offering him a tissue when he sniffled for the 3rd time. “Ugh, thanks vod’ika.” 

Dogma nodded, looking like he wanted to say something. “What is it, kid?” Patch asked, still feeling a little guilty at putting him in that situation. Even now, he was reliant on Dogma helping him put his armor back on. He let out a sigh of relief when he could breathe again, safe in its familiar weight.

Biting his lip in frustration, Dogma looked away, breath trembling. “I-I can’t – Is there… I’m not good at this! How do I help you?” 

Patch blinked in surprise before letting out a huff of amusement. “You already have, vod’ika. You stayed, you found what worked, and you called someone who removed the triggers. Thanks for these, by the way.” He handed back the loaned armor bracers before reaching and grabbing his weighted blanket from his bunk to wrap around his shoulders.

“Oh…” Dogma blinked, realizing he had indeed done those things. He watched as Patch reached into his utility belt to grab a metal tin, helping him open it when his shaking hands gave him trouble.

Giving him a nod of thanks, Patch grabbed a mint before offering one to Dogma, which he hesitantly accepted. “Sorry for putting you in that situation, Dogma, but you did good.” 

Dogma shook his head in refusal. “Y-You don’t need to apologize. I just– I’m not good at this…” He repeated himself, looking down at his hands. This whole medic assistant thing was pretty daunting, especially for an early-graduated trooper like himself. If it had been the start of the war, there’s a good chance he would still be on Kamino.

“Heh, nobody is, at first. The first time I helped someone with a blaster wound, I thought I was going to throw up.” Patch cracked a grin, relieved when Dogma returned it. 

“Come ‘ere, kid.” He lifted one arm, raising the corner of his weighted blanket for Dogma to join him if he wanted. Dogma hesitated for a second before scooting closer to the medic, mirroring their earlier positions, if a bit less awkwardly. 

A few minutes later, Coric came into the barracks with a couple bacta patches and a look of concern, followed by a wave of troopers more than ready to get back to their bunks. The next day, Captain Rex came by and set up a system for Patch to be alerted before drills, to give him time to put on his armor and use his coping strategies beforehand. They briefly discussed having a designated evacuation partner, in the case of an actual emergency, but settled on simply alerting the other medics (and his closest bunkmates) to be ready to assist Patch in the case of an evacuation. 

Kix gave him another once-over after firstmeal, changing his bacta patches with an unnecessary level of concern before returning the favor and taking him off of duty for the next 24 hours. He still didn’t take off his armor, probably wouldn’t for the next couple days. But as he sat in his bunk, curled up under his weighted blanket playing sabaac with Fives, Tup, Dogma, and Jesse, he couldn’t say he regretted it. It was nice to be the patient, the one being taken care of, for once.

Full Fic:

[holodexmachina]

HOLY SHIT

NEW FIC IDEA KLAXON

🚨🚨🚨

Instead of Star Trek Voyager integrating the Maquis crew into Starfleet roles, what if the whole ship got radicalized by the second season and the series ends with Janeway getting the crew home just in time to obliterate several Cardassian targets

[ilgaksu]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hei Xia Zi/Xie Yuchen Characters: Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Established Relationship, Top Hei Xia Zi/Bottom Xie Yuchen, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Possessive Sex, Trans Xie Yuchen, Praise Kink Summary:

“What the fuck,” Xie Yuchen hisses, “are you doing here?”

His breath is close enough to Hei Xiazi’s ear it could be, on a kinder man, a sort of caress. He’s already forced one thigh between Hei Xiazi’s legs. Hei Xiazi lets them part around the pressure, tilts his head down to bring Xie Yuchen’s mouth closer to his ear, and says, “Surprise, babe. Did you miss me?”

[wetcatspellcaster]

Chapters: 6/10 Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Arranged Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, Political Expediency, Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Landsmeet, Asexuality, Demisexuality, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, scary women who are bad at feelings, emotional support himbos, Miscommunication, and there was only one bed

Just added another chapter to my Alistair/Warden idiots-to-lovers arranged marriage AU!

[zaxal]

Preview: Sanctuary

AAA I get to post a preview for my @ineffableeraszine 1800s fic. I'm really proud of this one; I can't wait for yall to read it!!

Preorders are open through the 19th, find out more here!

***

As Aziraphale closed the bookshop for the very first time, Crowley lingered. He melted into the shadows between the shelves, idly perusing Aziraphale’s jealously guarded collection. They were more than books: they were the angel’s recent history, the last few centuries neatly mapped out and put on display. It was terribly revealing, a bit intimate; Crowley considered teasing him. But he had been let into this new sanctuary, had been invited when Aziraphale happily told him about the grand opening, and he wouldn’t dare do anything—not yet, at least—to make Aziraphale remove him.

Aziraphale hadn’t been in his element among the customers, and he certainly hadn’t been comfortable allowing even the handful of books he’d sold to leave his possession. Once the door closed and the lock clicked, a weight slid off his shoulders as if, after thousands of years of searching, he had found a place where he could be at ease, a place he could call home.

Crowley smiled and drifted out of the darkness, orbiting closer to Aziraphale with every step. He’d gone through everything but Hell itself for the wine he’d gifted Aziraphale earlier, and he was going to ask about a celebratory drink when he stepped on the area rug sprawled between the shelves and the counter.

The world went white.

Blinding euphoria scoured hot and holy under his skin. It rubbed him raw as if it could erase the damnation from his very being—as if somewhere beneath the viscera of his body and the unholy nature of his soul, there might be something worthy of God’s love.

He heard a faint call over the ringing in his ears, and sturdy, firm, familiar hands gripped his forearms, holding him up after his knees traitorously buckled. He took a faltering step back, and it severed the connection between himself and Heaven. It had been brief—a second at most—but it had been Heaven. The loss was the barest echo of the Fall, a glimpse at everything he’d lost all that time ago.

A sudden crack of thunder shook the shop. The windows rattled in their frames. Aziraphale stared at the door, wild-eyed and pale, before he returned his attention to Crowley.

Crowley stared up at him behind his shades. Distantly, he heard an alarm bell ringing inside his head, a great blaring klaxon that told him that they were going to be caught. He needed to run. He needed to be anywhere else on the bloody planet than here. His whole body ached with incalculable grief and disobeyed his frantic commands, his fervent pleading, refusing to move.

[dnfrecs]

GEORGE IN FLORIDA FIC RECS

the brink of boldness [ xshittylialife, 15/15, 19k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35163850

Dream held his breath as he watched Patches rub her head into George's hand.

"You should have been vlogging this," George whispered, expression of pure glee on his face and he just laughed softly. "You were right, she loves me!"

All Dream could think about was, I love you.

--> #GeorgeisinFlorida

; this is so incredibly beautiful dear god. it made me feel all warm and fuzzy and just 10/10, i would recommend this over and over again

down here it is always me and you [ littlemisssunmin, 4/5, 29k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35048242

They couldn’t possible talk about this, not even when Dream moved his hand closer, his fingers brushing his thigh just above his knee. Sapnap was still streaming, his voice blatantly clear in the background of their little moment shared on said best friend's bed.

It was all new.

And his heart was a beating drum in his chest.

George was used to dissect the voice on his phone for years. The inclination of his tone and intent of words.

This was the complete opposite.

They had to relearn how to communicate.

or George has finally arrived in Florida in the middle of November. He hadn't been prepared for a shift in his relationship with Dream that felt almost as easy as breathing.

; they them just them <3333 i hold this fic so near and dear to my heart

when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you [ wishie, 14/14, 20k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27572269/chapters/67444399

The truth was, he had thought about Dream that way before. But there was a sharp division in his mind, a blaring klaxon declaring that Dream was off-limits. If he was being honest with himself, really honest with himself, he was a little more in love with Dream than he should be.

—

When George moves to America and meets a barista by chance, it takes him longer than he’d like to admit to realize that Dream and Clay are one and the same. By then, of course, he’s in too deep.

fitzcarraldo [ willaur, 36/36, 67k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33795472/chapters/84011779

George is horrified when he finds fanfiction about him and Dream, but the more he reads, the more intrigued he becomes. When a late-night quiz forces him to confront his feelings and loosened restrictions bring him and Karl to Florida to visit Dream and Sapnap, the four of them must lean on each other as two couples begin to find their way.

clementine touches [ xshittylialife, 9/9, 14k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30738896/chapters/75865412

"You would tell me if I made you uncomfortable, right?"

"Uhm," George nodded, closed his eyes, just focusing on Dream’s fingers drumming over his skin. "You would tell me if you were in love with me, right?"

-> Covid is over. George can come to Florida in all his touch-starved glory. Turns out Dream is ready to fix that.