Twelve kids. Four trolls. Twelve guardians, four ancestors, one doloros, four lusii, seventeen lands, one megaplanet, one session, one two three one team. One more chance to win.

Human-mates are red.

The link between wolves and red is the link between madness and human mates.

about a reverse little mermaid

The youngest was the fairest of all, and her name was Beauty. Beauty only came out at night.

Jack didn't forget anything. He lost everything. It set him down a different path than the one the Moon had intended. A darker, more violent one.

Slight cross with AC, nothing plot or character wise, more ability and a lil' character history wise. The one thing Rome always knew was that Brian was born Crazy. But that may be his crazy ass pops fault, absent as much as he might have been.

Allison is the first person he sees when he gets back.

There’s a kind of clarity that reminds you why you’re completely fucked. Sakura's team is clueless. It would just figure.

There are and will always be abuses in the Circle. Beware a woman's blood magic. We don't do tender.

She's the extractor, not that she looks it. Most people walk on by her without realizing that she can–and will make their lives agony beyond their imagining to get what she wants. She comes in looking like little more than a florist's daughter: low necked shirt, mesh, a short skirt and a bundle of flowers wrapped up. Her gloves are long and made of thick leather which the poison can't quite get through. She plucks a hybrid rose and examines it a moment. Let the prisoner think a geisha has come to him; she's had training in that manner as well. Unlike Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve, Ino could be the honeypot, the poison thorn.

A musing on the social and legal construction of childhood in hidden villages. Downbeat and philosophical.

"Okay," you say, your mouth dry, "okay. What the fuck is this supposed to be?" Bro smirks at you from the couch. "Dessert," he says. His eyes glow through the douchebag shades he took off some kid you guys ate last month. He pets John's hair absently and John does nothing, a puppet whose strings aren't getting pulled. "Can't tell me you don't want him, kiddo."

Sanji is carefully placing a cherry on top of the ice cream, his hands nimble, soft, almost—gentle. But all Zoro sees is the way the hems of his pants are still soaked in blood from an earlier skirmish with a marine ship, red seeping into the cracks on the floorboard, spattering across the kitchen floor in a slow drip, drip, drip. Zoro stares, fascinated. He can’t bring himself to look away. (Or, Zoro and Sanji—terrible monsters, in love)

Love is a weapon brought to bear. Love is blood spilled without remorse, and a kiss that’s so sweet they can ignore the taste of copper underneath.

This is a dark Alternate History arc that follows what might happen if Mukuro had decided to make Xanxus his tool of conquest instead of Tsuna.

Yamamoto is really rather zen about life and death in pursuit of his duty. Gokudera, not so much.

Tsuna's been losing time nearly ever since he's met Reborn, with a voice whispering in his ear, and something taking control of him whenever he's shot with one of his tutor's special bullets. It gets worse before it gets better. (Or: That one in which Hyper Dying Will Tsuna isn't quite what he seems to be, at first glance.)

A what if, of a what if... What if the Vongola Tenth Generation were to be raised by Uchiha Madara and Senju Tobirama? Well, for one thing they don't even bother with pretending to be nice people. For another, Madara is born into the Hibari family. Yes. Madara. Also yes. Those Hibari.

“Shh,” Kakashi breathes against his lips, and there's a look in his eyes that he gets on the very worst missions, in the middle of a battle, when there's nothing left in him of restraint or anything beyond instinct and act-react. “You’re safe, Shisui. And I'm going to fix it.”

Prompto was sitting on a concrete barrier nearby, cleaning his camera lens. He looked up as Noctis approached. "Got what we need?" he said, tone neutral. Noctis shrugged, puzzled. "No luck. Shop's closed." He looked back over his shoulder. "Apparently some kid robbed them blind just a while ago. They're still sorting things out." Prompto tapped his foot, ducking and adjusting a dial. "Huh. That's weird. It was open when I went yesterday," he said. (The bros, unbeknownst to Noct, sometimes have to do some less-than-wholesome things for his sake. Kinkmeme fill, complete.)

"By the Heavens, did you hear? The Yiling Patriarch has been invited to the Discussion Conference in Qinghe!" Gossip was, by far, the fastest way for information to spread. "What! Whose idea was that!?" It was not the most accurate or most reliable method, but people were people, and the tedium of daily life would always bore them. "I heard it was the Nie Sect leader's suggestion." ---------- After thirteen years in the Burial Mounds, the Yiling Patriarch finally makes a public reappearance. Civilians are scared. Cultivators are outraged. Sect Leaders are concerned. Wei Wuxian has been too quiet, they say, and nobody knows what dark horrors the Burial Mounds may now contain. Wei Wuxian wouldn't quite call them dark horrors, but the description wasn't too far off. (tl;dr Wei Wuxian lives, raises a whole gaggle of demonic cultivator children, and the cultivation world panics.)

A series of one-shots and multi-chapter works, for a WangXian & XiCheng universe where morals are absent, and our boys are (literally) crazy in love. This AU is a Mafia/Gang universe set in Shanghai - a little fucked up (this is an understatement) and shows a lot of morally degenerate, obsessive behaviour between our four main men. Expect a lot blood, murder, possessive relationships that border on unhealthy, a stupid amount of life-threatening situations, along with gore and lovemaking.

Meng Shi doesn't quite know what she saw, but she knows this much. Something is wrong with her son.

Baxia takes the shape of a woman with the body of a tiger and three heads, each more horrifying than the next. Huaisang is standing between her and his brother. Wings of ink and ash unfurl behind him as the white-throated needletail dissolves into nothing from Huaisang’s right flank and [defend] activates. “What do you want?” he asks. Shouts, really, through the screaming of the desert wind and the never-ending hum of Baxia’s energy. You know what I want, she says with three voices all at once. You know what I want, delicious one, pretty one. Jewel-snake, ink demon, fiend. - in which a sacrifice is made.

A man who binds himself with so many rules is afraid of what he will do without them. When all his righteousness is not enough and his little brother is killed by one he trusted, Nie Mingjue casts aside all restraint and principle. He travels to the Burial Mounds, his brother's corpse cradled in his arms, and kneels before the Yiling Patriarch, begging him to bring his brother back - And then he goes to seek an accounting. No matter what the cost.

When old sect leader Nie dies, the Wen sect attacks and annexes Qinghe Nie, with the two heirs of the Nie sect taken to be raised as Wen Ruohan's wards - and more besides, in Nie Mingjue's case. Nie Huaisang spends a lot of time thinking about that.

“It’s not wrong if you write it down,” Mo Xuanyu muttered to himself like a mantra as he scribbled down a rough explanation of what he was going to do. “If you write it down, it’s just an experiment, and that makes it okay.” That’s what they used to say back at Koi Tower, back when they were doing all those bad things. They also said that you’re supposed to try stuff out before you do the real thing, because practice makes perfect. And anyway, surely it wouldn't hurt to put the cat in the middle of the body-sacrificing array before he put himself in - the array ran on resentment, on revenge, and how much resentment could a cat possibly have?

No one overestimates a scrawny sixteen year old who wields his words like a knife, instead of wielding the actual knives he has on his belt. Now, at twenty-nine, men still underestimate him because he prefers to run his mouth and talk circles around them, rather than fight with his fists. Jack's been underestimated too many times, it's time he takes it into his own hands.

Obi-Wan went over thirty years without a heat. It was hardly unusual or unexpected. Everyone knew omega reproductive systems were finicky. Omegas were incredibly fertile while in heat. Nature had, perhaps, compensated for the situation by ensuring they only went into heat when...conditions were correct. OR, the Dark Side AU where the Empire is already in power, the Jedi are long gone, and Obi-Wan Kenobi ends up leading an army to wipe out the Emperor's enemies. Things get more complicated when he goes into heat.

The Force speaks in mysterious ways. A young Leia Organa listens. Unfortunately, she doesn't quite know what she's hearing. This changes things.

The Republic falls in the span of a day. Xanatos, desperate to keep his son out of the line of fire, makes a reckless deal with the new emperor, whose face he's never seen. But there are dark secrets behind the emperor's fury and prophecies that won't let themselves be thwarted, and Xanatos is nothing but a pawn in a far greater game.

When Dark Woman orders him to fall in the name of finding the Sith Lord and ending the war, Jon obeys the way he always does. If it's in the name of saving more lives, he can believe it's worth it, no matter what he has to do. Rex and Cody getting dragged down with him was never something he intended.

How many times can you kill a man before you ultimately change who he is? How many times can you kill a man, before he ultimately changes who you are? ~*~ Obi-Wan, desperate to see his mission through and knowing he's dying already, sells himself to a vengeful mandalorian if only he'll finish the job in Obi-Wan's stead. That goes about as well as you would expect. (It doesn't.)

After decades of watching Xanatos play Imperial politics and neglect his family, right up until Tura's death, Granta decides to take revenge on his father. The best way to do that is to make sure Xanatos never reaches the throne he covets, and for that purpose, Granta proposes a marriage alliance with one of the top contenders for the crown and Xanatos's political enemy, the vicious and deadly Marshal Commander Cody. Granta has it all meticulously, ruthlessly plotted out, with no room for error. It's too bad that falling in love with his husband was never part of the plan.

“I dunno,” Hizashi shrugged. “He’s clearly not the worst guy in the world, considering who he goes after.” “I heard he’s pretty brutal,” he pointed out, not disagreeing. “Some of those people deserved brutal,” he said and decided to push a little more. “Did you hear about his last victim? That pharmaceutical director using experimental drugs on his son?” “Daughter,” Shouta corrected mindlessly before stiffening. Hizashi grinned. Gotcha.

Xanatos has never met a single more infuriating man.