There are certain expectations in troll society about taking in a freeloader with no place to go, as Dad Egbert finds out when he offers to host two of his son's stranded friends post-game.

What do you do with your own cadaver? Not to mention the bodies of your friends and guardians? A story of the first days traveling the yellow yard.

IT HAS RECENTLY COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT INTERSPECIES RELATIONS ARE RAPIDLY DEVOLVING INTO SLOPPY MAKEOUTS THAT THREATEN TO BECOME DISGUSTINGLY MORE INTIMATE. IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP YOU IDIOTS FROM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT OVER WEIRD XENOBIOLOGY AND EMBARRASSING EVERYONE IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE, I HAVE COMPILED THIS GUIDE, WHICH SHOULD BE SHORT ENOUGH THAT EVEN THOSE OF YOU WITH THE ATTENTION SPANS OF SMALL INSECTS SHOULD BE ABLE TO READ IT ALL IN ONE SITTING.

'There was only one thing worse than Dave Strider's smug motherfucker act, and it was his smug motherfucker act after he'd won a bet.' In which Karkat has lost a bet to Dave and turns paying up into payback.

"They're not going to bite, you know," She drawled without even turning to look at him, as she forced a sausage-like Harleybertian leg in a leg-hole. She was smirking, though, he could tell from her voice. "Or projectile venom. Hell, even vomit wouldn't get that far." Prequel to Battlefield Terra. 3 000 words of Mr. Strider meeting his newborn clonebabies for the first time. Also features Doc Lalonde.

In which Bro explains his sexuality to Dave. (No incest except for the joking kind.)

You have to put him in school, and if you weren't busy trying to make money to keep a roof over his head in this world where neither of you belong, you would be all about home schooling. You have to prepare him for the game. You only got eight years left.

Little gray aliens aren't people, no matter how well they fake it. They can be domesticated, though. Might as well keep them around, right?

Dave never asked to be part of the Brady Bunch. This whole 'normal' thing is harshing his groove, really getting his non-ironic goat. John, of course, is delighted. (Post-game slice of life fic, cheerfully assumes a happy ending.)

Survivors: Meet Up. In which VD picks up various characters, bangs them together like Barbie dolls, and writes about the noises they make. Now with dreambubble foaming action!

"Where are you going?" the other you asks, and his voice is husky and friendly and not even a little bit like yours. You have never sounded like that one day of your life and you're never going to and you don't give a fuck. No, honestly, you don't. "I'm missing some of my humans," you inform him, gruff and uncaring and your shoulders squared like the badass leader that you are and why does he have to be a head taller than you? "And I have deduced with my masterful, scintillating intelligence that in order to get out they have quite possibly used the only way out that exists short of walking through walls. That--" you point, "--tunnel, just in the wholly unsurprising case you needed that clarified."

TT: Sometimes I've gotta go round her up from some godforsaken cranny of the abyss. Drag her tipsy ass home, tuck her back in. A few instances of Dirk taking care of Roxy while she's half-awake on Derse.

Roxy and Dirk have been alone most of their lives, so when they meet in person for the first time, it feels a little strange.

if dave strider was the subject of 'the raven' inspired by this picture

I'd love to see something red and fluffy between Dave and Karkat, maybe involving the idea that Dave can't sleep in the veil because he's convinced he'll be attacked? Seeing super competent leader Karkat would be awesome too.

See, okay, you are the best of housemates. It is definitely you. You don’t even fuck with his goddamn color-coded shit in the fridge and you absolutely do not go anywhere the fuck near his color-coded toothbrush major arcana in the bathroom. For the most part you kind of stand over here and let his weirdness just kind of handle itself. You have, however, reached your limit for this particular style and model of bullshit and so you bang on his door and when he sort-of grunts in response you bang on it again and then you try the knob and hey, check that shit out, it’s not locked. ...Wow, he looks like ass.

The first time you pass by the troll in the box you kind of try not to see it. It's gross as fuck when people do this. You guess maybe it's better than driving them out into the country and dumping them to make it on their own, or those stories you've heard about people dumping unwanted wrigglers in sacks into rivers--those you try not to think about because fuck, that is not okay on any level but it's not like you can do shit about it.

When he realised he had two genders, he wanted to scream in frustration.

He doesn’t tell Dave why he hides his food under the futon, behind mixing equipment, inside the bricks of his desk. Why his swords are two steps from where he sleeps, and why he’s trained himself to cat nap in three hour intervals of insomniac nervousness.

For your fifteenth birthday, you get: One (1) bedazzled breathalyzer. Three (3) marine biology books, all of them for children 5+ and possibly bought at the Seaworld gift shop. One (1) copy of Computers For Dummies, courtesy of Strider (the douchenozzle). One (1) black cat who is, quite possibly, the cutest cat on the planet, you love him so much and you’ve only had him for 4 hours, goddamn. Five (5) shrinkwrapped DVDs that you would suspect Jake of scrounging up from the bottom of the bargain bin at Walmart if he lived anywhere near a Walmart. He apparently thinks shit like “Men in Black 2” and “Tomb Raider” are quality cinema when in fact they resemble nothing more than that gunk you scrape off the bottom of your shoe. But that’s okay. It’s, like, totally endearing. One (1) invitation to join BettyBother. Jane. Jane, no.

A century ago, humanity won a long guerrilla war against aliens who came and conquered the Earth, claiming they came in peace to win humanity's trust and cooperation in being made their playthings & wiping out most of civilization until it was possible to start rebuilding. Nearly two decades ago, a red ship bearing a forklike insignia arrived, and the alien aboard said that she was the Imperial Condense, and her people came in peace. Humanity won't be fooled again.

Adventure Time with Aradia and Jade!

The homestuck kink meme had a request for Karkat and ballet. Karkat and ballet. Karkat. Ballet. Thing I love. Thing I love. I didn’t even last a day.

Ex-military Eridan Ampora has an honorable discharge hanging on his wall, dreams of battlefields that haunt him around every turn and a pair of trolls who scurry around his house and snoop in his things when they think he isn't looking while they wait for their own scars to fade. Somehow, he thinks that that's enough. Inspired by Unwanted Free Ugly Troll.

Karkat thought he knew what he was getting into, when he agreed to help Kanaya and Jade resurrect the troll race. He didn't count on the resurrected troll race including a handful of bright red grubs.

Even the human fandom has recognized that it's a love story. Karkat's just disgusted that we've got them in the wrong quadrant. Rated Teen for Karkat's vocabulary.

AO3 port of Brainbent, a reader-driven Homestuck AU on Tumblr. Warning for mental illness themes. Major updating in progress as I move the story posts here from Tumblr for an easier archive bingeing experience.

"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!

In an alternate universe where the kids came from a world with daemons, what's different? And what's the same?

The first month after he wakes up on the meteor, WV spends most of his time alone.

You get culled.

Tavros' robot legs are due for a tune-up. Equius is surprisingly gentle. Tavros is pleased with the results.

Sollux Captor, recently drafted into the Service of Her Imperious Condescension, discovers a secret community of Helmsmen hidden inside the Imperial communications network. Meanwhile on Alternia, Karkat Vantas is up to his goddamn nook in revolution.

Kanaya's lusus had taught her, early on, how to prepare a body.

Dave leans forward. You can see a camera reflected in his shades, in the high-rez screen, you can see his own face peering out of the camera in his shades, his reflection reflecting itself into infinity. Not you. You’re not there -- he’s not here.

House sorting under here I will fight you

"Okay. Let's work on shelter first. You ever build a treehouse?" Sh-t, Tavros's little impressed face kind of gets you right in the pump biscuit.

Overhead, light flows across the ceiling, expanding and contracting like a slow pulse matching his own. His eyes are heavy and growing heavier with as indeterminate time passes. The pile of clothes under him shifts, his back arches further to accommodate it, he's drifting, comfortable and pulsing like these little specks of light on the ceiling. Slow and dimmed at first, Gamzee becomes aware of of his hand lying on his stomach.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] has joined memo CALLING ALL JACKASSES -- CG: THANK LITTLE JEGUS AND ALL HIS WIGGLER-EATING ELVES. WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING STATUS. CA: oh great and wwhich human evven is that again TT: Oh, please. We both know perfectly how well you remember me, Mr. Ampora. TT: My status is, if you will permit the bad joke, wet and horny. CG: MY GANDERBULBS JUST IMPLODED FROM GROSS BY PROXY. WHAT THE CROTCHBLISTERING *FUCK*, LALONDE? TT: As in, I have just emerged from what is either a recuperacoon or a fairly good mock-up, and there are protrusions attached to my skull that I am inclined to believe would be candy-corn-colored. CG: ... OH. YEAH, VERY AMUSING. I AM VERY AMUSED. HERE IS A PICTOGRAPHIC REPRESENTATION OF MY MIRTH. |:B

She thought they were all working to escape this hellish game. He makes her wonder if she's been thinking wrong.

"Fine. Assuming that no court on earth discovers that you are an interdimensional spy in deep disguise," Rose corrects herself, flopping down on the bed to lie next to you, "we are now legally married. In the State of Nevada. You are now my beautiful wife." You think about this for some time. After a while, you say, "We have to tell everybody."

You never told a single motherfucker walking this planet what went down here. Wasn't the business of nobody but you, him and God. She wasn't your mother or your girlfriend or even your motherfucking friend. Maybe if you told her, though, maybe she'd leave. You know you'd walk away from it if you could.

It is important to keep in mind that when a human says, "I hate you," it is most certainly not a come-on. The only thing more horrific than human apathy is human hatred. They do, after all, have two words for friendship. Or so we thought.

The Darkness does not mix well with paradox space, nor does Craft mesh smoothly with the game mechanics of Sburb. Jade Harley makes plans to keep her friends safe despite the coming alteration of the natural laws they've relied on all their lives.

The Coalition states for the record that it considers Her Imperial Condescension, Empress of Alternia and its conquered territories a Criminal, a Liability to her own people, an immature brat unfit for power, a Crazy Old Bat and an Abuser, and we do hereby charge her with Corruption, Corruption of Minors, Exploitation, Exploitation of Minors, Slavery, Slavery of Minors, Indoctrination, Indoctrination of Minors, Violation of the Prime Directive and Violation of seventy percent of the Chart of Universal Rights for the Sapient Species, and we declare to unanimously hold her in Contempt.

CG: … CG: WELL? TT: This is certainly something. CG: OH GOD. DON’T SUGARCOAT IT, ROSE, IT WON’T MAKE IT TASTE ANY BETTER GOING DOWN. TT: As my dear ectoslime brother would say: calm your tits, Karkat. TT: It’s very interesting in a way I’m having trouble putting into words.

Asuka I wrote you a thing. It’s a slight AU playing with the idea of the kids having minor holdovers of their game powers. Not enough to affect day-to-day life, but just enough. All ficlets take place before they’re pilots. For some of the iffier powers I made guesses about how they would translate, most notably Dirk’s. He is the ghost in the machine. 8|