Derek knew the moment he agreed to participate that he was going to regret this.

“Wade and I have a tradition whenever one of us turns out not to be dead.” She smiles at Cable politely. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” “And by dinner, she means bare minimum twelve hours of the most animalistic ravaging of each others’ naughty bits that you can see outside Bangkok, big boy. Really putting the freak in fan-freaking-tastic multi-orgasmic cum-marathon.” “So what do you say?” Cable grinds his jaw for a second, but honestly, who would pass up these A-listers? “Why the hell not?”

Remember this, when Persephone falls: she was earth’s daughter, and the earth swallowed her.

“I can’t even look at you, Clary,” Simon spits, low and accusatory. “I wanted to see you so badly, and now you’re right there, and I can’t even look at you.”

Jace would rather be anywhere else than here - stuck in some alternate dimension with Clary and Simon frigging Lewis. But, unfortunately, he doesn't have a choice. Also, Jace is not okay.

Pick anything the angel said, the Seelie Queen said, and she chose Jace. Anything in the whole world, and she chooses whom she doesn’t have. That isn’t quite complete: she thought she had Simon.

Four people who knew Steven and Andrew were married, and everyone who didn't.

He can feel them both everywhere, standing between the two of them like this. He can feel the way the sweat drips down his back, Simon’s breath on his back, the hard surface of the boat under his hands.

Venom indulges Eddie's weirder kinks.

When Venom was quiet, and when he wasn’t shooting giant fucking tentacles out of Eddie’s body, Eddie couldn’t much feel his presence. Occasionally there was a flicker of something: of anger, of hunger. Right now there was nothing. So maybe Eddie had pissed him off. Or—and this was a thought that Eddie had not had before—perhaps he had hurt Venom’s feelings. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the couple banging next door. She was making a lot of noise. The blood came up his neck and face a little. And then a little more, now he knew that Venom would be able to feel it too.

or, why Eddie Brock can never return to his favorite coffee shop

Eddie briefly recalls some tentacle porn he’d watched just before Venom became a part of him. The copious vines holding her up and entering her every opening simultaneously. Fluids, from her or the monster who could tell, leaking from her mouth and pussy and ass. Oh, Eddie. Venom’s thought shook him, definitely not wanting to take their tongue out his mouth, How’d you keep this from us? Eddie had to be completely honest… he had absolutely no idea how he did either. ~ That good good tentacle fuckin' that Eddie so desperately wanted.

The morning Eddie wakes up with his first hard-on in his post-Venom life, he finds himself at a bit of a loss. -- Learning to get sexy with your symbiote.

Venom had a plan to win Anne back. Eddie vetoed that plan, because it mostly consisted of eating off Dan’s head, which Eddie did not approve of for a number of reasons. The most obvious one was that Dan was a good person who did not deserve to become a snack for the monstrous alien living in Eddie’s body. The one most relevant when considering Venom’s mostly non-existent morality was that Anne would probably not be very happy with them if they bit off her boyfriend’s head. And the final reason, the one that Eddie really hated to admit, was that he kind of really liked Dan.

He noticed the way Clary’s hand would rub soothing lines up and down Simon’s back as they sat in meetings. He would watch, face hot with something like jealousy when Clary would kiss Simon’s cheek whenever she left the room. Jace saw it all. And to be honest, it was probably inevitable that he would start to watch Simon, too.

After a close call, they just need time to readjust.

Eddie is lonely, but he doesn't have to be.

Falling for Magnus Bane is a surprisingly easy thing to do.

Clary has never been any good at putting things back together. When they were in middle school and she accidentally knocked over Simon’s Lego Millennium Falcon, he’d already known to say it was fine repeatedly and usher her out the door instead of accepting her offer to help him rebuild it; if he’d let her try, the wings would have ended up upside down and there suddenly wouldn't have been space for the engine. Her heart is in the right place, usually, but it doesn't often translate to her hands. So when he hears through the shadow world gossip mill that Alec's parabatai rune disappeared briefly, it doesn't take more than one look at Jace’s face to know that she’s been fucking around with the threads of fate again. And, well. She's never been that great at sewing, either.

“Some ground rules, please,” Magnus began. “Simon, I know you're friends with Isabelle, but please stick to defending her character within your own head. Raphael—” he glanced at him— “don't be deliberately provocative. Understood?” Raphael nodded once in acknowledgement while Simon bobbed his head up and down. “Well then,” Magnus said, extending his arms in a grand gesture, glass in one hand, “let us vent.”

There's a graveyard that shakes with a coup d’etat and a voice in his head saying blood is stronger than love, so he waits with the blood and does not look at the horror in their eyes and does not remember, does not let himself think.

Most nights they stay up later than they meant to, laughing. “It's like a slumber party every day,” Simon says, and Jace smirks and says, “I don't know what kind of slumber parties you went to,” and Maia says, “More than you. I thought Shadowhunters weren't allowed to have fun.”

This might as well happen, right? Get possessed by an alien parasite, save the world, get fucked by an alien parasite… it’s all in the same vein. It’s not like this is any more fucked up than the rest of it.

The cellular union of Eddie Brock and Venom is not without consequences. Alternatively, Eddie goes into heat (or some alien equivalent of it). It's Venom's fault. "The need unfurls inside of him—doubled but easier to bear now that it is shared. He understands what must be done, has always known. It is as basic and primitive as breathing."

Magnus wants to reach down and run his fingers through Alec’s hair, but he can’t. His wrists are tied together with a length of silk rope that connects them to the headboard. They both know it’s only an illusion of control - Magnus is more than capable of getting out of the bonds with just a single thought and slightest push of magic - but it’s still a nice fantasy, having Magnus helpless like this. “Fuck,” Magnus whines, his hands straining against the rope with the overwhelming urge to touch, “Alexander, please!”

“Okay,” Simon says, shoving a shirt back into the overly ornate closet that takes up half his room, “this isn’t a nineties movie. There’s not going to be a shopping montage to indie rock chick music, and even though tiny backpacks are probably cool again, please don’t ever buy one.” Raphael looks at him like he’s a moron. “Do you even understand half the stuff that comes out of your mouth?”

“How is the training going?” Clary asks, and Simon shrugs, resisting the urge to pull a face. “Well, Raphael hasn’t staked me yet, so that’s progress.”

Raphael likes to lowkey compliment Simon, the only problem is that Simon highkey has no freaking clue what he's saying.

Simon tells himself, It’s not gay, it’s not gay, I’m totally not checking him out, he just had that stain on his right trouser leg…. Raphael is, apparently, a rich as fuck vampire, because the suit shop they go in is fancy as hell. They park in the basement, because, uh, sunlight, and even though dusk has fallen it’s better to be safe than sorry (sorry meaning dead). Raphael keeps smirking, which does nothing to help Simon’s inner mantra that consists of I’m straight, I’m straight holy fuck is he licking his lip- I’m straight.. “This,” the vampire announces as they walk into the shop, smiling faintly, looking, almost for the first time since Simon’s met him, as if he’s relaxed, “is the greatest place in the world, Simon Lewis.” He looks at him then, grinning, eyes dark, shining, looking more polished than ever but somehow oddly vulnerable, and Simon’s breath hitches, his insides turning to goo. His mantra becomes Let me not jump him, or, at least, not in public..

A warlock and a banshee walk into a coffee shop... Life, death, courage and everything in between.

Raphael goes to check on Simon and discovers him sleeping on the floor.

He needed alcohol after the day he’d had. Their party had just returned from Crestwood, where they had assisted the Inquisitor. They had an abundance of supplies, thanks to recent generous donation from Orlais, and they were prepared for anything - horrible weather, bandits, wild animals, and Venatori. Anything. Except for fucking dragons.

Magnus has heard whispers about the Lightwood girl’s daemon-a jaguar with fur as lustrous as the girl’s long hair-but he thinks the gossip mill has got it all wrong. The older Lightwood boy is the one with the stunning daemon

“Simon,” Raphael gasps out, and Simon’s dark eyes track his every movement, flicking down to his fingers and dragging back up Raphael’s body slowly, leaving a trail of liquid fire in their wake, “You have to help me, Simon, please – “ “Anything.” Simon says quickly, his voice cracking, and Raphael can feel Simon’s arousal, the scent thick as it curls possessively around Raphael, “Anything you need.”

Magnus carefully releases the tight hold he has over his self-control and lets himself just feel. He lets go of Alec’s back, splaying his arms wide on the ground. He digs his fingers into the dirt, connecting to the earth. It hits him like a sledgehammer and he gasps. It’s a frantic sort of gasp, the kind that makes Alec stop and look at him. “Magnus?” Alec asks, searching the warlock’s face for any sign of things going bad. Magnus’ eyes are free of their glamour but they are… different. Still cat-like, but more green than gold, shining with magic and power hiding behind them.

Alec would have thought that asking for things would get easier in time, and it has—it’s so much easier now—but it’s still not easy. “Could you keep my hands there?” Alec presses his hands deeper into the mattress to point out what he means. “With your magic, I mean.” Magnus arches his brow. “I didn’t know you were into bondage.” Technically Alec doesn't know that yet either, but he's very willing to find out. “I’m into you,” he says. “And your magic.”

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

Sirius Black grabs his godson and flees to Italy after Godric's Hollow. Landing in the middle of organized crime, curses, and malevolent ghosts was most definitely not part of the plan, but there might be a few perks.

Before he follows, Shisui takes one more look out the cold glass, and shivers. He can hear the floe grinding against the surrounding ice, an eerie, disconcerting sound, like a massive beast growling in the darkness. The howl of the wind is a high, lonely counterpoint, a forsaken sound, and Shisui grits his teeth and forces himself to ignore it. He’ll get used to the sound someday. He won't have a choice.

The guards wave Sakumo in as soon as he tells them he’s carrying Konoha's tithe.

“Where are we even going?” Mikoto demands.

The creature chuckles, and as Genma watches his upper body shifts, changes. He loses the more monstrous features, and a moment later a blue-skinned man with a shark’s tail is hauling himself all the way up to sit on the bank, his tail still dangling in the water. “No one has to get hurt,” he says, and deliberately sets Genma's knife on the grass. “You unlocked my prison. I'm not going to eat the guy who helped me out.”

“It’s a ritual,” Tajima says, seated on the end of Butsuma's cot with one leg pulled up under him. “The fire will only kill you if you let it.”

"When his dad finds out about him being Spider-Man, it's not in any way that Miles has hoped it would happen." Jefferson finds out about Miles's secret.

He has the face of a devil, sharp and beautiful and just a little bit evil, and Diego should really know better when Klaus gets that clever look in his eye.

Diego has never sucked a cock before, he decides that needs to change

As soon Klaus realize he can make Ben solid again, Ben start to wonder about some of the experiences he never got to have alive.

“Just to be clear,” Andrew says. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to spite your high school bully and your high school girlfriend and possibly the entire state of Ohio?” Steven giggles. “Spite’s such a harsh word. Shock and impress, maybe.” “For a man of faith you’re being awfully morally flexible about this,” Andrew says.

Some changes in a timeline create big effects. Other events barely shift. The ten year bazooka allows for a glimpse of the new future...

Growing up was bad enough the first time. Going through a speed run was a special kind of hell.