During the feast celebrating her adoption as heir, Sandry thinks about what being nisamohi will mean for her.

Day 214 on the campaign trail of Steve Rogers for President. Twenty-sixteen's turning out to be a hell of a year.

(It’s funny, he thinks, how he can set up a whole windy barrier around a house almost an hour away from civilization and they still try to get inside when they think the Empress is visiting. Of course, the worst are the tabloids convinced they’re having an illicit interspecies romance and desperate for any photo they can take. Last week’s Enquirer had a cover story featuring an image of John screaming as tiny sea troll babies burst from his stomach. The tagline had read HUMANS TO HOST ALIEN OFFSPRING and John hadn’t even bothered to turn to page 2. Funny how the truth would have worried humanity more; it was such a good idea he’d talked Feferi out of telling them everything right away.)

A peaceful Earth, five major powers united in global governance. An International Space Service, exploring the stars for new homes and signs of life. An ever-expanding Alternia, convinced of its own supremacy, willing to tolerate no threats, willing to acknowledge no others. A species with a history drowning in its own blood, in turning on itself, in destroying anything that seems other, in taking any excuse for a war. (That last one was humanity. Trolls are about to find out they've made a big fucking mistake.)

"An immense saucer descending from the clouds and impacting the ground, as the press and through them the people of Earth looked on in shock and awe. That was the scene in California's Mohave desert two years ago today: the historic first view of the Alternian ship upon its dramatic arrival. Their ship was a refugee ship carrying a quarter million children and young adults ready to settle in almost any environment, but they washed ashore on Earth with no way to get back to where they came from. Civil liberties attorneys successfully lobbied for the Alternians' release from quarantine and in the last two years, the Alternians have become the latest addition to the population of Los Angeles." The representitives of a race of newcomers fight to give their people a home on Earth- but even without the deadly killer stalking the streets of LA, just surviving is hard enough for some. Can humans and aliens work together to build a better future? Or is it all doomed to end in bloodshed? One thing is for sure - for sixteen teenagers, this is going to be a dangerous week. AUTHOR'S NOTE: You don't have to know Alien Nation at all to read, understand or enjoy this fic!

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.

I feel pretty strongly that the second half of Naruto diverted all the momentum of the first half, where what I wanted to see was what would happen if it speeded up instead. This arc is an AU of canon, in which Kakashi dealt with Sasuke differently after the first fight with Itachi and Sasuke never left Konoha. Changes spiral off from that point. This is also the arc where I change all the things that truly made me tear my hair in canon, such as the carbon copy generations, the sidelining of the women, the apotheosis of Naruto as a solitary hero, and Itachi turning out to not be a villain. So none of that happens. There is, however, Sakura/Sasuke/Naruto goodness. Also featuring a dash of Kakashi/Iruka and a side arc about Hinata and the Hyuuga clan that somehow shoehorned its way in while I was innocently contemplating ninja sociology.

Stiles and Derek wake up married in Vegas. Well, they would have if it was legal. In which Stiles is the president's son, Derek is his bodyguard, and Papa President orders them to pretend to be in love for the sake of gay rights. Or in which uraneia and lupinus combine meeting the Hales, President Papa, waking up married, fake/pretend relationship, First Boy Stiles, and bodyguard Derek into one fic.

Jack would just like to take the time to remind everyone to hang onto their weapon of choice when accidentally going through the experimental snow globe, because otherwise you'll end up who knows where without a staff and only snowballs to help you. Or: Jack doesn't know where he is, he sure doesn't speak the language, and he just knows talking to those giant rabbits will go badly. The little one, however... That works out just fine. Series

Sometimes they forget: she's a political science major.

This is an AU in which the elemental countries are modern nation-states locked into an uneasy regional standoff. Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke (and others!) meet at a summer camp as children, and later end up working both to create a more lasting peace and to move their country away from a clan-based oligarchy toward a true democracy. Or something like that. I was just trying to write a 'camp counselors at a lake' thing, but the sociopolitical background took me hostage and ran away with my writing mojo. *wry*

Considering that he had picked up what was probably a Sith artifact, promptly passed out in the middle of a war zone, and apparently woken up twenty years in the future with Obi-Wan having taken up residence in his head, Anakin thought he was entitled to have a few questions.

A party was never quite a proper party in Tevinter until there was at least one assassination attempt, and the novelty in the attempt at Magister Caius’ party lay not quite in its actual occurrence but in the ambition of its assassin. At the height of Caius’ decidedly juvenile lyrium-laced drinking game, during the start of dinner, Magister Fabiana made a sudden gesture close to the Divine, all the while leaning closer, as if to say something private. Divine Leontius’s hand snapped up, viper-quick, grabbing Fabiana’s hand high on the wrist. She rose from her seat, fright and outrage both in her eyes, fire stealing hot up from her trapped wrist before it was abruptly… gone. Shock froze Fabiana’s snarl in her throat, even as, with a gentle, almost intimate economy, Leontius pulled Fabiana towards him and shoved a dagger up through her ribcage.

15 texts that were never sent in Westeros.

"Jupiter doesn't feel ready for the bureaucratic nightmare of getting Titus to trial, or for the weirdness of being royalty in general. Fortunately, someone's written a guide exactly suited to her new needs."

Alistair thought he had found his place in the world when he joined the Grey Wardens. But the battle of Ostagar changed that world, and as Alistair follows the only other surviving Grey Warden through a country being torn apart by both Blight and civil war, he finds his ideas about his place and his self changing, too. Particularly when he falls quite spectacularly in love.

"Nicholas J. Fury vs. SHIELD bureaucracy."

A different kind of race.

Clint Barton's presidential campaign started as a joke. It didn't end that way, except for Steve.

Iruka saw his first execution barely a year after the Kyuubi. The executioner was a wire thin ninja in combat uniform, one eye covered and his hair almost white in the brutal sun.

The scarred ninja sighed. "You couldn't have brought them by earlier?" "No," Asuma-sensei said, and he was still smiling, "I wanted them to get the full Umino experience." Ino shot a look to her left: Shikamaru's eyes were open wider than their usual droop. What the hell was the Umino experience, those eyes seemed to say.

When Tyrion neglects to impregnate Sansa with the heir to Winterfell, Tywin decides to take matters into his own hands. But Sansa is no longer a little Northern dove; she is a Lannister with nothing left to lose.

my problem with the ‘harry becomes lord of 2/¾/5 ancient noble houses’ trope is so unbelievably petty because its that fic writers don’t take it to the potential extreme. like, okay, you wanna make harry the bossest of bitches i get that, i understand, i have that urge too from time to time, but c’mon, be a little more creative about it please

“You ready?” you ask, and the most important human in the galaxy sticks her tongue out at you. Several of your organs do a giddy flip. Then the knot is tied and that’s it, you’re moirails.

A super-cracky modern!AU where Akatsuki is a group of quasi-reformed terrorists and former suicide squad now (nominally) on the side of the angels, saving the planet their own way. Mostly accidentally. Or through recycling. (That's entirely Obito's fault.)

She has no care of the Iron Throne--yet, and then only who sits on it, leave her be. She is going to reclaim her home, the place she once despaired of, dreaming of the sun and songs of the south. She was a Stark of Winterfell, there had always been a Stark at Winterfell, tales Old Nan told if the Starks lost Winterfell for good, the winter would win. Her mother scoffed at the tales, Sansa had as well, but whispers are on the cold wind. Winter is Coming. She was going to see the Spring.

“Now about that gift I got you, remember how you’ve been all wistful about your concupiscent quadrants? Well I got you something to fix that.” “What,” Karkat said blankly. “Gamzee no, tell me you didn’t get me sex toys.” The good news is that it's not sextoys The bad news is that it's a person.

Kmeme prompt: Zevran and Alistair are in a room. There weapons are gone and neither of them can pick locks. The room has only one door very heavy door, no windows, a bed and a jar of oil on the nightstand. Not too odd yeah? Only problem, they have both been dosed with a strong aphrodisiac. Started as a very simple PWP and then ... grew. Like kudzu.

A refugee ship from a dying planet crash lands on the Southern Continent during the Ninth Pass. Can a handful of troll kids and a former Empress carve out a Hold and Weyr for themselves without giving too many hidebound Holders heart attacks?

The press seems to think Tony and Steve are in a relationship, and so many people seem so happy about it that Steve just runs with it, dragging Tony along. To a Pride rally. Whoever gave Steve that flag he's wrapped himself in deserves a medal.

The 'what if everyone played hockey instead' AU

It's time for Bianchi to come into her own, whether she likes it or not.

This is a dangerous game that they're playing.

Derek thinks that the mating rituals are overly romanticized bullshit, but claiming a mate and defending them from challengers is something werewolves do, and his pack can't afford to appear weak after the fire. Especially not when Deucalion and his friends are in town for the rituals. Enter Stiles Stilinski, who offers to let Derek claim him so he won't be overrun at the ceremonies. Nothing goes as expected.

Briar was in the southeast refectory hoping to steal an early breakfast before the rush when he heard the whisper, passed between an older padawan and a young archivist. Have you heard? The words echoed through the halls, traveling from being to being, spoken in low, excited voices or loud ones pretending at boredom. Have you heard, have you heard the news?

FMA best case scenario. But the Elrics, even at peace and completely happy in themselves, are still kind of alarming to bystanders.

Everyone is born with the ability to only see the colour of their soulmate's eyes. Only upon touching their soulmate, can people see the rest of the world's colours. Edward Elric will do whatever it takes to get his brother's body back and ensure he can have his happily ever after with his soulmate, even if it means never finding his own soulmate.

Set around ch.307. Spoilers. Trying to fix a three man team has its own quirks for Sakura, especially when there are four people involved.

“My queen, I have found that great romances make for tragic endings.” “Your love for Brienne is no tragedy.” “Sansa, our story has not ended yet.” While Brienne is in Dorne, Jaime and Sansa discuss marriage, and tragic love.

It had been a slash across her chest from a White Walker’s sword that finally ended her life. Sansa’d landed in a puddle of her own blood, and she’d died quickly, quietly. And then she’d awoken with a gasp, trembling, in a bed that had burned under Theon’s betrayal.

Claire Dearing has successfully run Jurassic World for seven years without a major incident. Trust Owen Grady to fuck that up. (Or, three months prior to the Indominus Event, Vic Hoskins makes a bad decision, Owen Grady goes missing, and four six-foot, three hundred pound murder lizards escape into Claire's park. She can hear Alan Grant shouting, "I told you so!" from Montana.)

Zabuza's first mission out of the village with his genin team takes them right through hostile territory. What a surprise that it goes south.

in which the Stark sisters don't completely understand each other, but are locked, loaded, and playing Littlefinger for all he's worth.

“Thank you,” he says, and the words feel like they don’t fit right in his mouth. What are you supposed to say, really, when someone gives you a piece of their spirit-form? Especially under these circumstances. Shisui wishes treason came with some kind of manual. Maybe a book full of helpful hints. When plotting to overturn decades of hatred and stop a war by lying to the whole world, be careful not to offend the man giving you his teeth to wear as earrings.

The best revenge is living well. And maybe also spitefully staging a minor political coup to take over Konoha as payback for getting stuck in an arranged marriage.

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.

War Sky Tsuna and Home Sky Kyouya declare war on the Vongola.

In which Tsuna has some fairly inconvenient opinions, Iemitsu has been happily living in denial for years, and Reborn now somehow has to sell organised crime to a bunch of student hippie activists. He is not amused.

She’s barely days away from finally challenging Yagura for his seat, so of course Zabuza chooses now to make himself a problem.

Jon Snow has been having dreams. Of Old Valyria, of a girl with brown hair and grey eyes, of a silver haired woman with dragons. He spends his waking hours brooding and pretending he is not watching Tormund Giantsbane too closely and that Tormund is not watching back.