In which young Church ward Gamzee Makara is finally old enough to be officially initiated into the ranks of the subjugglators.

'There's a whole other story, about that, a girl with mirrors over her eyes and a man who was scared to care about anything.'

You haven't ever felt bad to pail a brother or sister before, but for some reason you look down on his strange, angry, nubby-horned little face and it hurts inside you, hurts like a motherfucker. In a universe where the hemospectrum is long-abolished but never forgotten and the descendants of ancient rebels are looked to as the leaders, a tired purple-blood drowning in his drugs find a lonely mutant on the run from his bloodline, in the wrong place, for all the wrong reasons. Series

Sanji doesn't think much will come out of his one-sided crush on the green-haired tiger. After all, he's only seen him a handful of times. At least, until they become roommates.

Lan Xichen's boyfriend comes over all the time, but he doesn't stay long. (Or, Wei Wuxian is the only one anyone knows who is comfortable showing himself in a dispensary. This leads to an obvious misunderstanding with big stoner Lan Xichen's straight-edge brother.) (Or: Lan Zhan finds out the fun way that he likes to fuck stoned.)

Nie Huaisang blinks his big dark eyes open and scoots closer, thighs bumping against the outside of Nie Mingjue's hips. "I don't feel anything yet," he says. "Can you give me some more?"

“It’s Friday night,” Yanli says, a warm teasing note in her voice. “Shouldn’t you be doing something more fun than studying chemistry?” “What are you doing?” Wen Qing asks, stung. “You’re just hanging out in your dorm, right?” “Mm,” Yanli says, the warmth still in her voice. Wen Qing can almost imagine her stretching like a cat as she says it, one of those long dancer’s legs lifting high. It’s a hot night; maybe she’s wearing those tiny grey stretch shorts she wears when she comes right from dance class to the dining hall, barely peeking out under a long t-shirt. Wen Qing has thought about those shorts a lot.

“He’s so beautiful,” Lan Zhan says, tongue loosened by the weed. Besides, Mianmian’s room is his safe space. He can say what he likes here, so he does. “I want to know what his mouth tastes like. I want him to put his mouth on my—” “No, no, no, no,” Jin Zixuan says, making an X with his arms. “For the love of Christ, keep it PG-13, please.” — In which Lan Zhan gets high, slides into Wei Ying's DMs, and somehow ends up having the harmonica played to him at 2am in the morning.

Dabi narrows his eyes. "Alright. Let's say you don't die. You still have a limited amount of blood, and a lack of blood flow or oxygen to your brain could probably cause permanent damage that even your immortality can't repair." "I'll stop you before that happens," Hawks says, with way more confidence than he has any right to have. "You have zero self-preservation instincts," Dabi has to point out. Hawks grins at him, shooting him finger guns. "So we doing this, or what?" ~ Dabi is a vampire who's never had human blood straight from the tap before. Hawks is a dumbass college student cursed with immortality. What could go wrong?