Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree. As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

Sequel to '48hr Love Song.' In 48 hours things changed forever. Now Tenya finds himself on the road to an exciting future . . . if he can get past the maze of family politics threatening to trip him up. Things aren't easy when you carry a legacy like his, and your loves both have shadowed pasts choked with secrets. As for Ochako, she suddenly finds the road she's been on is actually a dead end. Lost and unsure of herself, she has to find a new direction to move in. Edit: Please notice updated tags

Wufei has spent the time since the Mariemaeia uprising burying himself in work and avoiding society wherever possible. But with the opening of the final major HQ drawing closer, he's forced to face that maybe he's not needed any more. Overseeing the preparation for the opening on L2, he rekindles a friendship with someone he's not seen since the war, and wonders if adjusting the habits of a lifetime might not be so bad after all.

Eddie thinks a lot about ways to die. He always has. It's fine. Except Anne doesn't agree with that assessment, and neither does Venom. (Dan mostly just wants Eddie to go a week without being hospitalized for any reason at all.)

"Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened." Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal. "You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?" Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now." Wei Wuxian starts again from the beginning.

The good news is that Lan Jingyi has found a mentor, friend, and constant companion through the difficulties in life. The bad news is that that’s because he’s been accidentally possessed by the Yiling Patriarch.

What Tang Fan wants, Sui Zhou wants to give.

my hands they shake, my head it spins

Vokara speaks before he can. “I didn’t come here for your permission. I don’t need it. I am a Master Healer, and it is my right to take an apprentice.” “And you want Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Mace Windu asks. “Yes,” Vokara answers. Or, Obi-Wan is wanted, becomes a healer, and this changes everything.

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

Normally, she wouldn’t be here—there was flimsiwork to be done, wounded to visit, and loved ones to write letters to explaining the deaths of their sisters, but after she had limped onto the transport that was bound off the battlefield and back to the Endurance, Ponds, also one of the last off the field, laying eyes on her for the first time in days after they’d separated for the battle, had taken one look at her and firmly told her that she needed a break. Mace hadn’t had the energy to argue—Ponds, when convinced of something, was quietly stubborn to the end. So Mace had gone through a list of places she could quietly retreat to on Coruscant that weren’t close enough to the Temple for anyone to recognize her out of Jedi robes, and had ended up picking the Moonlight on a half remembered memory. Series

Echo and Fives have never had a Jedi of their own, not in the way Bly has General Secura and Cody has General Kenobi. He understands a little better now their endless frustration at the objects of their affection.

"Stay with me," Tim asks in a rush. "I... Bruce can't lose you again. I need to know you're alive and well." Jason scoffs. "He nearly killed me, I don't think he cares." "Doesn't matter. I think he cares, so I'm offering you a deal. Come to my place. Sleep, shower, get something to eat. Maybe stick around for longer. Just stop... Stop staring at the ground like you're thinking about jumping without a line."

“No.” It’s a fair response. “And you found him because…?” An even better response. Hawks isn’t in the mood to answer it though. “I heard a cry; I was first on scene.” Naomasa nods and everyone else buys the tale. They’re all looking at one thing only. Specifically, the A-Rank villain known as Dabi who is, for all intents and purposes, currently five years old. aka, Dabi is turned into a child and suddenly turns a lot more talkative, leading to some (possibly unwanted) revelations.

Hawks takes baby steps backwards, getting closer and closer to the door, as everyone continues to get loud and look at eachother for answers. Well, almost everybody; Dabi is watching him limp away with an unimpressed expression. “Those are torture wounds,” Shigaraki points out, crossing his arms and leveling Hawks with a dead-eyed stare. “How do you even know what torture wounds look like?” Hawks throws back as he continues to plan his escape. Shigaraki looks at him with raised eyebrows until Hawks looks away again, feeling like an idiot. These people are villains, he knows that (but its so easy to forget-). “Right, fuck.” Hawks flicks him a two fingered salute before turning tail like the coward he feels like and making for the door. He doesn't get more than four feet before Dabi grabs him by one of his wings and yanks him back.

Tsunagu is just about to ask what she’s talking about, exactly, when the feathers strewn around them suddenly take flight again, rushing towards the jacket on the ground in front of them. When Tsunagu looks down to watch them convene on the crumpled garment, he is shocked to find a small child sticking his head out from underneath the collar. The boy looks as confused as Tsunagu feels. Or the one where Hawks is de-aged, secrets come to light, and Best Jeanist may or may not be planning the downfall of the Hero Commission.

“What’s got you so jumpy, hero?” Dabi sneers, and Hawks answers him. “I got hit with a truth Quirk.” Hawks swiftly contemplates every decision that has gotten him to this moment, starting with his own birth, and regrets all of them. Dabi’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Day and Hawks is the present he’s been waiting all year to unwrap. “Really?” He purrs, “Well, isn’t that incredible.” ~~~ Hawks gets hit with a truth quirk right before a meeting with Dabi. Dabi thinks it'll be fun. It isn't.

"It's not like any of my exes ever said 'let's fuck or I'm leaving you' but...yeah. It's a factor." "You just didn't want to sleep with any of them?" "I wanted to. Or wanted to want to, I guess." *** The impact left by Hizashi's ex-boyfriend still looms, too big and too much, so he asks Shouta for a favor.

“Come with me,” Jango says. Blue-grey eyes narrow, head listing towards the side. “Why?” the teen asks wearily. “Because you’ll die here,” Jango states bluntly. You’ll die here, he thinks, and I’ll go off and die somewhere out there. “Ha,” the teen puffs a caustic laugh. “Okay.” “Okay,” he repeats.

How many times can you kill a man before you ultimately change who he is? How many times can you kill a man, before he ultimately changes who you are? ~*~ Obi-Wan, desperate to see his mission through and knowing he's dying already, sells himself to a vengeful mandalorian if only he'll finish the job in Obi-Wan's stead. That goes about as well as you would expect. (It doesn't.)

Before the training camp attack—before the dorms and the close quarters and the security measures and the curfew and the living-in-his-classmates-back-pockets... Bakugou notices something. Todoroki Shouto is fucking weird. In which Bakugou plays at being an amateur detective and teams up with Izuku to completely fuck up Endeavor's whole damn day (and possibly his entire life, too.)

“The girl asks for more deaths than she is owed. The Many-Faced God may grant it. But for this, there will be a price. And a man cannot say what the price will be. A girl must pay. A man must pay. A girl’s brother must pay, if he agrees.”

The deep satisfaction of having made the right choice; of having found a clear-flowing wellspring of true honor to protect.

The first time she wakes up and doesn’t immediately want the world to go back to sleep with her, Fox is on the other side of the tiny room, bouncing Leia on his knee, with Luke asleep against his shoulder.

“Luffy.” “Yeah?” “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.” Fear. The smell of it, the sound of it. Luffy’s never felt fear like this come from Sanji before. He hates it. “He’s real. And I think he’s you,” Luffy says. __ A reunion. A camping trip on an uninhabited island. A question. And a gift, or perhaps, an answer. Wherein a Sanji straight from the dungeons of Germa appears in their midst and no one, least of all Sanji, knows what to do about it.

Sanji hears the explosion in the early evening. It's not very close — somewhere on the island, for sure, but not close enough to shake the house itself. He tilts his head towards it, pauses for a moment from slicing scallions, but doesn't pay it much more mind than that. Things explode all the time, around Big Mom and her family. So long as they're nowhere near him or anything important to him, Sanji does his best not to think about it. That's not his place. It becomes his problem when, five minutes later, Pudding shoulders open the door to his rooms, anger licking off her like flames. Sanji carefully places his knife to the side and turns to face her. She crowds him against the counter, glaring. "Did you know about this?" she demands in a hiss, leaning forward. “Are you in on whatever hairbrained scheme they're trying to pull off right now? Do you have fucking contact with them?" In a slightly different world, Sanji is made even more his mother's son.

Growing up Quirkless in today's society leaves its scars. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. This is a story of Aizawa Shouta finding and treating these scars and doing his best to keep the world from scarring his student further.

Snip, snip, snip, go the scissors, as Pudding cuts herself out of her mother's life. She won't be going alone.

“I might end up having to kill you. That makes me an enemy, don’t you understand?” “But enemies are supposed to hate each other, right?” Straw Hat questioned, drawing his eyes back to Katakuri’s face. “Do you?” (Luffy is insistent that he and Katakuri are friends, and Katakuri is insistent that they are not. One of them is very much in denial, but perhaps for good reason.)

It wasn't solely Jango Fett's DNA that went into making Domino Squad. Palpatine had other plans for them. Thankfully, so does their second genetic donor, and he has just as few qualms about murder as a Sith Lord.

Failure had been the predominant constant in Shane's life for so long that he almost didn’t notice there had been something else steadily building its influence on him for years now. (Shane healing and coming to trust himself to become Jas's primary caregiver as her parents had wished, because it makes me feel sad things that Jas doesn't move into the farmhouse with Shane when he marries the player character.) :)

“Have you considered the possibility that Neil has chosen you, but believes you have not chosen him?” Renee says. "Have you ever explicitly told him what you want?” “Neil knows what I want,” Andrew snaps. This is not Andrew’s fault. “How do you know?” Because Neil always knows. He is as fluent in Andrew’s micro-expressions as he is in German and French. He knows which head tilts mean “go on” and which ones mean “shut up.” Without ever asking, he learned what it meant to see Andrew wearing double layers of long sleeves, or taking multiple showers in a day, and learned to hand Andrew the car keys. That has always been the most terrifying thing about Neil — his patience to wait, watch, listen, learn. The prospect that if Neil were given enough time, there would be no part of Andrew that was just Andrew’s anymore. “He has to know,” Andrew says. “Does he?” Renee says. “Have you ever known Neil to assume that he is wanted?” Five times Neil tells someone that he and Andrew aren’t dating, and one time Andrew uses his words to set the record straight.

He can’t even blame Neil. He wants to, it would be so easy to, but even if it was Neil’s fault that Andrew couldn’t stop thinking about it, Andrew had been the one to bring it up. Mostly by pulling a thick, ridged black dildo out of his drawer one day and saying, “I want to fuck you with this. Yes or no?”

“Eat my ass,” Andrew says, shoving his middle finger in Neil’s general direction. He goes back to scooping cookie dough onto the baking sheet, but the sudden silence from his usually so argumentative boyfriend unnerves him enough to glance over his shoulder. Neil clears his throat. He’s bent low over his papers, but his eyes aren’t moving anymore and his ears have turned curiously red. “I would, if you wanted me to,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

In which anal sex is ruminated on, discussed, and joked about, but not actually had. Or, Andrew pokes and prods at his sexual boundaries a little at a time, as a treat.

How Sokka learned to shut up and be nice, and also learn a little bit more about Zuko than he wanted to.

“About that… does the hospital have a copy machine?” Hitoshi chooses that moment to peak over Shouta’s shoulder, undoubtedly giving Tsukauchi a full view of his bloodied face. Unintentionally, he also gives Shouta the perfect opportunity to watch shock, understanding, and sheer resignation flash through the detective’s eyes. “You’re not telling me that you found another child on the way to the hospital with the first one,” Tsukauchi says. “I did not find another child on the way to the hospital with the first one,” Shouta lies. OR A story of two rooftops, two kids, and one extremely long night.

“How’d you get stuck with babysitting duty anyway?” Boba asked one day during dinner. “Oh, I volunteered for this,” Fox told him. “Why the kark would you do that?” “Language,” Fox admonished. “Well, I was just living my normal boring life and I thought to myself, ‘I don’t get called an ugly piece of banthashit often enough.’ So I decided to adopt you.” Boba snorted. “You’re a psychopath,” he told Fox. “I’ve been called worse,” Fox replied breezily.

Jean sleeps around and learns how to make friends rather than alliances. Jeremy falls in love and can't stop fucking up.

Neil works three low paying, dead-end jobs and makes just enough money to afford a room to sleep in and to keep himself from starving. He has no prospects, no hope, no future. That all changes when a chance encounter results in a job offer that he can't ignore. The job? Pretending to be professional exy player Andrew Minyard's boyfriend.

“Is there a reason you don’t like Neil?” Bee asks him then and Aaron doesn’t understand how the fuck they got onto this when she’s supposed to be fixing him and Andrew. “I don’t trust him,” he says eventually. “All he’s done since he’s got here is cause trouble.” “Well, a lot of that was out of Neil’s control,” Betsy reminds him evenly. “That doesn’t suddenly make him a good person.” “Watch him then.” Aaron startles so much at Andrew’s voice he twists in his chair to stare at him. Andrew hasn’t addressed him directly all day but he’s looking at Aaron now. “You think he’s using me or trying to fuck me over or whatever’s going on in your head- watch him. Watch us for the next week. Stop averting your gaze and pretending it doesn’t exist and then I might listen to what you have to say.”

“Can I help you pick something?” Andrew turned, ready to say no thank you and instead froze in place, the purple vibrator held chest height between him and the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. The tag on his floral shirt read Good Vibrations and just underneath that, Neil. Neil stood there all open and relaxed, a gentle curve of pink lips, unruly auburn hair hovering over sparkling blue eyes. Andrew’s mouth snapped shut. He put the box carefully back on the shelf and walked out of the store without a word.

Whenever Soap messes up on a mission he needs to repent, he needs to be punished. It’s been like that ever since he started Military. He’s made a habit out of finding himself the biggest, meanest Doms he can find, so when he meets Ghost he thinks he’s hit the jackpot. Little does he know that Ghost is the softest Dom — a pleasure Dom at that — so when something inevitably goes wrong and Soap begs for a punishment, for a hard, degrading fuck, he’s only met with softness.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and did his best to press the anxiety he was feeling away. His hands were steady as he adjusted the settings of the communcation set-up of the small vessel he was currently piloting. He purposefully set the comm to audio only on his side. He hadn't been a padawan for long, but if there was one thing he'd learned during his missions with Master Jinn, it was that it was rare for anyone, especially politicians, to take a padawan seriously. He assumed the same held true for the leader of an enemy empire.

"It's just basic coping skills," Jason scoffs. "Have none of you ever met someone with ADHD before?"

When Robbie's vision cleared, his father, King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, lay unconscious upon the floor in a puddle of spilt wine. Robb Stark lived. Many things followed as a result - some impressive, several insane, and quite a few straight out of tales of the Age of Heroes. Perhaps the only unfortunate one among them was Joffrey remaining on the Iron Throne, his worst impulses and tendencies only barely held in check by those around him. Until the day he goes too far, and gets hit over the head with a pitcher of wine as a result.

When Jason leaves the League, Dick Grayson is the furthest thing from his mind. He has Talia’s blessing and a step-by-step plan to make Bruce pay as well as to rid his city of the Joker. There’s no place in his thoughts for quippy acrobats, not when his every waking hour is tinted green with dreams of revenge. He doesn’t think that anything can possibly break through his single-minded focus… Then he catches footage of Nightwing fighting thugs on the streets of Blüdhaven with none of his usual grace. Fuck, but he can’t leave Dick behind to fend for himself. Not when he can’t be sure that Dick will survive long enough to still be around by the time Jason is done dealing with Bruce.

“I didn’t realize,” Dick’s voice startles Jason, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on Tim. When he looks up, Dick is staring at them with wide eyes. “That you two were...uh.” It hits Jason then, what the position they’re in might look like from Dick’s point of view. His restraining hold on Tim, and Tim’s now submissive posture, curled up against his chest, probably look to an outsider like a comforting embrace between two people who are much more acquainted than they actually are. His face flushes, but he doesn’t bother to correct Dick’s misunderstanding.

"There's no point in killing Superboy," Match says reasonably. "It's not like you'd care if he died." "The Agenda thinks I wouldn't care if Superboy died?" Superman asks incredulously, just staring at him. "Why, because he's a clone?" "Because I reported back my interactions with you when I was pretending to be him," Match corrects, puzzled by the vehemence of the response. "And also the lack thereof." "What?" Superman says, still just staring.