Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

The New Republic has been after Luke, Leia, and Han to commit to doing some PR work. Their ideas have ranged from bad to worse. When they come to Leia with the notion of one of the trio starring on a holonet competition show, the last thing she and Han expect is for Luke to volunteer to go on Dancing Across the Galaxy. And nobody expected him to actually try and win.

A very specific part of Jin Ling's Yunmeng Jiang heritage makes itself known when he comes of age. His friends help him out.

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.

And, well. He gets impatient when he’s already in pain. He’s still got fifteen minutes until the meeting is set to begin, and the chances of him slapping Mr. Smith-Harguson so hard that the man’s toupee flies off are rising exponentially by the second. Yeah, that settles it. He needs an excuse to get out of here, and he needs it fast. - for the prompt 'jason todd, lover of fake kidnappings, meets tim drake, lover of chaos', but it... got out of hand. happy pride