Dorian enjoys being fingered while Bull watches television and Bull certainly has no complaints.

“It was science,” Tobirama huffs, turning his glare on Madara. “You left your DNA all over me, Uchiha. I was hardly about to pass up the opportunity.” Obito debates clamping his hands over his ears and humming loudly. He did not need to know that in any shape or form, oh god.

The dragons were devoted to the children first and foremost, but Drogon would snap and flame at anyone who came too close to Rhaella, Balerion could on occasion be found curled up on Elia's lap while she worked, and Ghost had once arranged himself just so along the back of the Iron Throne while Lyanna held court in her husband's absence - it was the most productive court session she'd ever been party to. Or, Rhaegar marries Lyanna Stark, and runs away with Elia Martell

“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.

Obito recognizes the divine messenger immediately.

Kurenai looks thoughtful. “So you want help picking someone who will annoy him?” “I want help picking someone who will give him an aneurism,” Asuma corrects, because he’s always been a fan of go big or go home. “Pissing off the mayor seems like a bad idea,” Raidō ventures after a moment, but he’s already looking around the lunchroom, scanning for targets. Asuma snorts. “I'm not pissing off the mayor, I'm pissing off my father,” he says. “Despite what he wants to think, there is a difference.”

“You want me to what?” Hidan demands. “Meet my team,” Asuma repeats patiently, like that’s going to magically change it into a good idea.

Zabuza fishes a dying Konoha nin out of the Nakano. That one action is the falling stone that kicks off an avalanche.

“Somebody what?” Hidan demands. “Killed three of the elders and tried to kill the headman,” Fū reports cheerfully, and grabs his arm as he wheels around, flinging herself up onto his back. Hidan grunts, staggers, but keeps moving, and Fū locks her knees around his ribs with a laugh. “Fuck, someone else got to them first?” Hidan complains. “I had dibs!”

“Don’t worry A-Cheng, this is the kind of party that expects everyone to be using fake names. It would be horribly against the rules for anyone to acknowledge who you actually are, even if they do recognise either of you. Trust me, there will be far more interesting things going on than watching Chifeng-zun and Sandu Shengshou tonight. All you have to do is play it cool, make it seem like you’re there for the same reasons as everyone else, and nobody will meet your eyes. Piece of cake!” Huaisang sounds positively chipper, which means Jiang Cheng is almost certainly going to have the worst night of his life tonight. Or: Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue steal a sex party

Jiang Cheng is sort of having a complicated night. She tilts her chin up, moving to the beat of the track, and her eyes slide over him, top to bottom. The beat goes dirty and buzzing and she has to raise her voice to say, “I don’t do straight guys.” Someone grinds against him and he looks down at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and says, stupid with something to prove, “Good thing I’m not straight, then.” He sounds like he’s sure of it, even though he’s not, but his best decisions have always been forced out of him by people bolder than he is.

Having a crush on your roommate is really embarrassing, except that's apparently the opposite of a problem. Jiang Cheng can't deny that's pretty convenient. Wei Ying holds it up, a series of straps and buckles and velcro and wow, really a lot of leather. It has absolutely no conceivable form beyond tangled. Nie Huaisang opens the door at exactly the moment that Wei Ying holds the thing up to Jiang Cheng’s chest, as if he’s trying to imagine how exactly it would fit onto a person, and it falls into a tangled pile between them while they stare at Huaisang in mild mortification.

Thursdays are for boxing. Thursdays are for Nie Mingjue. He pretends, sometimes, that they’re peers, even though they’re in different weight classes and always will be. He likes spitting and snarling at Nie Mingjue just to see what he’ll do, to push and shove at the boundaries. Nie Mingjue, it feels like sometimes, has self control the way that ponds have ice in the late fall- delicately and temporarily and easily disturbed.

It feels, sometimes, like Jiang Cheng's waiting to have a bad day so he has an excuse. It’s a Tuesday and Jiang Cheng finds himself huddled under the portico in front of Nie Mingjue’s impressive double-doors, wondering what the fuck he’s doing with his life. He’s drenched to the bone, all of his formal clothes sticking to all of his skin, waiting for someone to answer the door before he freezes to death. Or maybe he’ll just freeze to death! Maybe that’s the option at play here. Considering how the rest of his night is going, he doesn’t think it’d actually be all that surprising.

Sometimes Jin Zixuan's life is complicated. When it comes to Jiang Yanli, though, things just seem to make perfect sense. Jin Zixuan loves his wife very much, but it is undeniable that she’s a little evil. Considering how terrible her brothers are, he counts himself lucky that her evil manifests, generally, in the form of playful mischief as opposed to, for example, putting beetles in his sheets. Unlike some Jiang siblings he could name.

Jin Zixuan has been in love with Jiang Yanli for years, even if he knows she isn't human, but he knows he has no chance with her because of how terribly he treated her back in high school... or so he thinks. One night at a party they meet and end up hooking up, and uh, it might be a little more than he bargained for (but he isn't complaining).