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.)

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.

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

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*

15 texts that were never sent in Westeros.

A different kind of race.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

“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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

The pen is mightier than the sword, or how Zuko saves the day via the power of good penmanship.

The change can't be immediate, or it’ll seem forced. It has to take time, in order to be realistic. He knows that. He’ll need to seem like a villain. But he’ll be a hero. And for that, Hitoshi thinks he’d do just about anything. Or, Someone's selling UA's secrets, and Shinsou Hitoshi definitely doesn't have anything to prove.

Stannis Baratheon flowers as an omega after the end of Storm End's siege, what will it mean for Westeros?

Every royal is given Retainers. These Retainers are expected to attend to your every need, even the ones behind closed doors. This is a story examining Prince Noct's relationship with his three Retainers, told in segments and timeskips across several chapters.

After much deliberation, careful study, and scientific analysis, Wes Janson decides that the Fate Of The Galaxy is entirely dependent on the state of Senator-Princess Leia Organa's hair.

In which 'Adaar' is totally not a desire demon from the Fade, because Haven is a camp filled with Templars. Also morals and mortals are both confusing, and he would really just like to go home now please.

“We have to get up?” Wei Wuxian prompts him. Lan Wangji nods. “Jiang Wanyin said the Wen Clan will be brought in to the conference.” In his arms, Wei Wuxian stiffens. He shakes himself out of Lan Wangji’s hold, sitting upright and brushing his hair back from his face. Incongruous with his love-kissed body and the golden light shining over his skin, his eyes sharpen. A glint, dark as obsidian, replaces the dreamy clouds of a moment before. Lan Wangji mourns the simple happiness, even as he leans in to look at those eyes. “We should go,” Wei Wuxian says. His voice is soft rain, the promise of an oncoming storm. Hanguang-Jun shocks the Four Great Clans by standing beside the Yiling Patriarch and performing a ritual to prove that Wei Wuxian remains on the righteous path. If only every problem could be solved by so simple an act.

Dark eyes catch his from across the room and Nie Huaisang pauses as Jiang Cheng spreads an arm across the back of the couch he occupies alone, idly swirling his drink in his other hand. The lush fabric of the sofa looks almost magenta in this light and plays beautifully off the deep purple and sharp lines of Jiang Cheng’s suit, making him a splash of vibrancy in a room otherwise dominated by boring blacks and muted tones. The sofa is also the sole piece of furniture in the room, besides the bar and the high tables. The message is unmistakable: this is Jiang territory, and everyone else is a visitor. Receptions are good for seeing and being seen, and Nie Huaisang likes what he sees at this one.

Jīn Líng received a request for aid from a remote village under his Sect's protection. As Sect Leader, he goes personally and call his allies for help. He won't fail his people like the previous leaders have, but he's got a lot of work to do. Or: Jīn Líng goes on a little cross-country trip, finds out how badly his Sect has been handled, and goes from being a distant, uncaring ruler to "that nice young man who swore his friendship with those other polite boys over breakfast. It was so cute." Day 3: Prompt, Goodwill

Despite being one of the strongest omegas alive, Nie Huaisang has never desired recognition. He would have been happy to spend his life pretending to be a nobody so he could stay at his brother’s side in Qinghe. But when Wen Ruohan attempts to take control of the other sects during the Wen Discussion Conference, Nie Huaisang must do what he can to mitigate what he fears may soon become outright war. Even if it means publically claiming his former classmate Jiang Cheng.

"We did go looking for omegas," Izuna pointed out under his breath, staring down at his personal enemy. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want Senju Tobirama for a wife," Madara replied just as quietly, a brief spark of amusement blooming at the shocked horror on his baby brother's face. -- Before he was forced to accompany a pack of rut-muddled idiots on a half-baked plan to kidnap omega brides for the good of the Uchiha clan, Madara hadn't given Hashirama's younger brother much thought. Tobirama was a Senju, and therefore the enemy; he, like Madara and Izuna, was sole survivor of his litter, and so to avoid being alone and therefore unmarriageable had ended up paired up with his older omega brother by default; he was a vicious opponent; he was a beta. He had to be a beta. Hashirama wasn't, and nobody would be brazen or stupid enough to bundle up two reproductive siblings in the same litter, right? ... Right?

Nie Mingjue took one look at the ash-faced girl on the streets of Lanling, caught her by the shoulder and said, “Aren’t you that Wen Qing? I used to see you at discussion conferences – what are you doing here?” Nothing is ever the same again.

“It’s impossible,” Wen Qing said, her voice flat and eyes icy. “Literally impossible. It would kill you both.” “But –” “If you don’t care about your own life, at least care about his,” she said, and Wei Wuxian fell silent; she’d hit him right where it hurt the most, and he turned and stormed away. Wen Qing waited, watching as Wen Ning ran after him, distressed by his distress, and when he was finally out of earshot, she said, “You may regret that, one day.” Behind her there was a rusty bark of laughter, if that horrible twisted sound, low and grating and rasping at the throat until it bled, could be called a laugh. “I won’t,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thank you for lying to him.”

Jin Ling has had it up to here with the Jin Sect. Fuck these morons. He doesn't have to put up with this shit. Jiujiu is never going to marry, anyways. He's gonna need an heir for his respectable sect. Jin Ling volunteers. Wei Wuxian is in deep doodoo. 1. Quit Your Job as The Youngest Sect Leader in History. 2. Buy Lots of Donkeys in Revenge for Losing Your 'Trophy Husband' title. 3.Ban Gold Bathtubs Because You Can't Break Them. 4.Raise Dumbass Disciples and Make Up with Your Estranged Brother Through Shared Misery 5.Slightly Change an Entire Market by Making One Thoughtless Comment 6.Wake the Elders Because You Decided to Teach The Disciples a Curse in the Middle of the Night

Sandu Shengshou and Hanguang-Jun had, infamously, long since mastered the art of existing in the same space without ever acknowledging one another directly, and Wei Wuxian, having never in either of his lives met a delicate social situation he didn't blithely barrel through if it suited him, happily chattered enough to fill what might have been awkward silences in any other company. But in the end it was not Wei Wuxian who ultimately prompted the cessation of the cultivation world's coldest and most famous feud. or: The Badass Teamup of Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji

Nie Huaisang snapped open his fan and covered his face. "Be careful. I'll take advantage."

Jiang Yanli lifted her eyes up to Madam Jin and said, calmly, as if from a hundred miles away, “I am a daughter of the Yu sect. Did he think my mother only taught me how to pour tea?” Or: the AU in which Jin Guangshan targets Jiang Yanli and she kills him before he can ruin everything.

It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng hadn’t liked Nie Huaisang well enough, when they were all learning together in the Cloud Recesses. Anyone who had the energy to keep up with Wei Wuxian – and just enough good sense to help veer him off the really bad ideas, even if he did keep egging him on in regards to the medium-grade bad ones – was good news in his books. But liking him didn’t mean respecting him, and the fact that Nie Huaisang hadn’t participated much in the war – couldn’t participate much – had led Jiang Cheng to discount him more or less entirely. That’s what made it all the more surprising when Nie Huaisang ended up being the unofficial leader of the three remaining Great Sects in opposing Jin Guangshan after the war.

“What,” Nie Mingjue said, even as Jin Zixuan got up with a set expression on his face to accept a bow from his servant, “are you doing?” Jin Zixuan paused, looking puzzled – and no surprise, since Nie Mingjue hadn’t said anything beyond the most mundane greetings when he first arrived. “Sect Leader Nie..?” Nie Mingjue rose to his feet, his brother’s hand falling off of his arm as if he’d shaken him off like a dog. “What are you doing?” he demanded, louder this time. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”