Your wriggling day is in three days, and while you normally celebrate this event with the apathy it deserves, this particular sweep is different. That’s because it will be your eighth sweep, and it happens to coincide with the arrival of the imperial drones. This is a milestone that every troll looks forward to with a heady combination of excitement and terror. For most trolls, when they reach their eighth sweep, they become adults. Not you. When you reach your eighth sweep, you will die.

Rosalie does not simply move through the forest, she is a part of it, and it suits her in the strange way that it suits Leah. How two lonely, broken, wild things of the woods connect with each other and rediscover their humanity.

Things aren’t going according Annie’s plan. The gang graduates.

You remember the first time you really realized you were fucked up. You were five. First year of kindergarten, miserable as all fuck. The teacher told the boys to line up on one side of the room and the girls on the other. You don't even remember why. You just remember the result.

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.” It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential. Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

Jaime Lannister drives her sword through Aerys's back to save a kingdom. When her father's armies sack the city and kill those she was sworn to protect, she flees King's Landing, unsure what to do. On her way to Dorne, she runs into Ned Stark who hands her a baby and a purpose, protect the Targaryen heir. A Jaime Lannister redemption story.