Wherein the beta kids have an agreement to form a sedoretu once they're old enough, as told in a series of standalone pesterlogs. Part 1 - Dave, Rose, Jade, and John meet in a chat room on Jade's thirteenth birthday to talk about nothing in particular. Sequel here: http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/38154.html?thread=39650570

Wherein Karkat Vantas asks Dave Strider an important question about quadrants and romantic intentions; after much soul-searching and random digression, Dave gives him an unexpected answer; and Terezi Pyrope's approval is sought for potential kinky shenanigans.

Prompt: Let's have a thing where going God Tier has made the humans' genetic material and other bodily fluids sparkly and rainbow colored. Then let's take that thing and make it into another thing where we see the reactions of all the trolls to this. GOGOGO!

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 23:45 -- GG: hey john, i thought you were going to bed early! EB: nd she kissed him full on the mouth with lots of to EB: GAH GG: :O ??? EB: damn it jade, you and your ninja windows! pretend you didn't see anything okay.

EB: WHEN I SAID OKAY FINE JADE LET'S TRY TO **DISCREETLY** PUT OUT FEELERS I DIDN'T MEAN GO RIGHT UP TO HIM AND ASK HIM POINT BLANK IF HE'D LIKE TO STAR IN HIS OWN KINKTASTIC ALIEN PORNO!!!!!!!! GG: >:/ oh yes because "btw do you have a gf" totally means "hey do you wanna be the yummy filling in a twin sandwich" in normal people land. dont be a buttface, john!! >:( Sequel to Adventures in Collaborative Storytelling.

You are watching Dave Strider make out with himself, and now you understand why people stand on the beach and take pictures of an oncoming tsunami instead of running for high ground. You physically cannot look away from this, let alone leave.

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.

Everything is more fun when there's something at stake, right? Swinging ought to be the same.

Karkat is failing programming, English 101, and laundry. John can smell weakness, and like the best palhoncho he attacks weakness with friendship, relentless and obnoxious friendship. He has, however, delegated all of the butt touching to Jade and Dave.

"At first you'd thought Terezi felt a little left out of this clusterfuck of a relationship, always watching you and Karkat at each others' throats and goading each other on, but you've come to realize that she doesn't mind being a little on the sidelines. Correction: she gets off on it."

In which all sixteen kids live reasonably happily ever after in the Veil. Alternately: that one AU where trolls have sex by barfing blood into buckets.

"You've got no fucking clue which end is up about this kind of thing, do you?" Karkat asks, almost gently. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off on you. You're such a huge bitch it's easy to forget you weren't hatched like this."

Dave realizes he has a most unfortunate crush on his best friend. This is obviously a great foundation for a black relationship with Karkat. Competitive flirting is a thing that exists, the kids try out various bits of troll culture, Dave makes consistently excellent decisions and generally has his priorities in order (no he doesn't), and there's a whole lot of talking.

In another universe, the Imperial Fleet came to Earth without warning, in the early years of the Cold War. Just as suddenly, nuclear warfare served as the ultimate warning to stay away, and the Earth was safe. The crashed ships full of abandoned officers and slaves, not so much. Fast forward to present day, and the Earthbound troll population has been forced to survive in a human-dominated society that doesn't take kindly to their decades-long presence. Between having to resort to archaic and undignified methods of reproduction, legally-mandated drugs to suppress their more trollish attributes, and clashes between Alternian and Earth-hatched generations, survival looks to be a difficult task, indeed.

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.)

Sollux Captor has just relocated to Houston for a dead-end job and all he wants is to drink and wallow in his thirty years of shitty luck. Instead, he gets tag-teamed by a pair of blond twins who really, really want to take him home.

You feel the shift in the air behind you as someone else approaches, but you don't get up. You'll waste anyone who tries to fuck with you right now. "Hot damn," says a voice almost but not quite like Terezi's. "Double trouble, huh?" Your dancestor snickers, and you look up as dancestor Pyrope swaggers around into view.

"I kind of... accidentally fantasized about Karkat while we were doing it. Which I do sometimes, not when we're messing around, just like-- uh, fuck, look, I'm--" Terezi puts a finger over your lips and you stammer to a stop. She nestles closer and sighs happily. "You too, huh?" You stare at the ceiling in bewilderment. Whatever response you were expecting, that was not it.

So, seadweller!Bro sees lowblood!Dave and it's pity at first sight. Maybe he's using weird seadweller rituals or maybe he's just being his strange self to court Dave. Unfortunately, Dave has no idea why this finface is constantly in his business. Show me how they become moirails, please. ♦

You try to dress nice. How do you dress nice for a sex club? You have no fucking idea. But you've got the greaser cool guy look down pretty good, and you think it works for you. You wear your tightest t-shirt. You spend like fifteen minutes in front of the bedroom mirror trying to decide which pair of jeans is the most flattering for your glutes. This is your chance.

It's hard being a graduate student, trying to write a thesis, create a revolutionary computer program, or prove the existence of dragons while living in a shitty apartment with your two girlfriends. It's hard, but at least your girlfriends understand.

So, um. Terezi is kissing her. By the way. "Wowza. Lesbos R Us, at long last. I knew that day would come. Anyone got a camera." Terezi has a lot more teeth to get nibbly with than Karkat and her tongue is way longer and oh lord does she know how to use it. Jade wonders to herself, vaguely, why she never kissed her boyfriends' girlfriend before. That was a really silly oversight. Mmm. "Haha, shut up, Dave, you've been modeling for the Gay Dudes R You catalogue for like three years now." "Like you can talk, Mister It's Not Gay If He Doesn't Have Balls To Touch." -- oneshot, plus a couple of ficlet sequels.

"I need to—" you can't, you can't say it with Mituna there. "It's my mutation," you say instead. "There are complications." "Okay, dude, open the door," Latula says. The knob rattles, and you miss whatever Mituna says next. "Yeah, I know, but he's still one of us. We can't just let him suffer, you know?" (Kankri misses a social outing. Some of his friends come to check up on him.)

"Why're you still here, bro," Latula repeats patiently. Kankri glances up accidentally -- midriff, oh dear -- and glances away, fast. Sitting in the surf is a man with too many visible ribs and shoulders too wide for his frame, strings-and-cables musculature in stark relief through the lack of even the smallest coating of insulating flesh. He looks starving and steel-strong both and there are little chalk-white nicks of scars everywhere on him. Foam runs up to his waist; Kankri stares, thinking stupidly, he is naked. Did he decide in a fit of whimsical, ah, otherness, to take off that last bit of -- but no, there is the edge of his waistband, and Kankri turns his gaze down to the sand between his own knees, ears burning with shame at his own salacious, depraved disappointment. They want me gone, he thinks, and he knows why. This is a perfect place, a perfect moment; he's intruding.

It starts out ironically, of course, but by the time Dave's wearing a corset and a swanky evening dress and Terezi's in a three-piece suit, Jade wants nothing more than to get them both into bed as soon as possible.

Prolly if the two of you had handled this on your own, it woulda turned bloody real fast. You're guessin' neither of you woulda been willin' to let it go without the other one dead, and who the fuck knows what that coulda done to your two groups of friends. Now, you ain't gonna fuck shit up for everyone else if you can help it, but like fuck are you just gonna let Feferi Peixes have her own way. Not over your dead body, necessarily. But... maybe over hers. Lucky for the two of you, lil' Vantas McNubs is way too nosy for his own good. An' way too persistent. An' way too fuckin' precious to ever, ever hurt. It was gettin' real coddamn ugly the first time he jumped in between you. Feferi was just about ready to go for you, an' like shell were you lettin' her get away with that bullshit, an' both of you were there with your tridents out an' all, an' there's Karkat, just jumpin' in the middle like it ain't no thing.

GC: 1F YOU GUYS FORC3 M3 TO FL1P 4SH3N 4ND TH3R3FOR3 D3PR1V3 M3 OF 4LL TH4T 4CROB4T1C S3XU4L CONGR3SS W3 S1GN3D ON FOR *TH3 PUN1SHM3NT SH4LL F1T TH3 CR1M3 3X4CTLY* GC: BY WH1CH 1 M34N MY C4N3 H1D3S TWO R3C3NTLY-SH4RP3N3D BL4D3S 4ND 1T S3R3ND1P1TOUSLY H4PP3NS TH4T B3TW33N TH3 TWO OF YOU YOU GUYS H4V3 TWO BON3BULG3S GC: WH1CH M1GHT NOT ST4Y TH3 C4S3 LONG -- Okay, good! Terezi, Dave and Karkat have finally figured out this quadrant dating thing. Now to figure out which twosome gets to hook up first.

In which Karkat is very well taken care of.

Jade and Tavros invite Dave for his first xeno experience.

Rose needs peace and quiet to get on with her writing. You'd think that'd be easy in the limitless void of deep space, but no.

Some days she maybe secretly wishes a tiny bit she didn't have to climb a rope to get home, but today she landed a miscreant in human jail to reflect on his crimes and she feels grimly victorious, enough to combat the fatigue. "Hallo the den of iniquity! I'm home!" she yells when she makes it to the landing, after she has spat her briefcase's handle out of her mouth. (The serrated corner almost gets her in the foot.) -- Terezi, Karkat and Dave do the totally ordinary suburban married life thing, with great success.

He felt like the naked girl who'd just been a white wolf and the half-naked guy who'd just been a mangled corpse dragged into his barn by a wolf completely deserved his screaming. The ~magical~ turd-licking fence-fuckers masquerading as his classmates had been sneak-flirting with him for weeks. "Is my life actually a shitty supernatural romance?! Am I going to develop more special than you powers that somehow never matter half as much as who I fuck? Am I supposed to arbitrate your little game of which one of you is the sexiest alpha male by gracing them with my boy cooch?" -- now with sequel pesterlog silliness.

Maybe you’re keyed up from blackflirting with Equius, maybe you’re horny because TZ has been so wrapped up in her new kismesissitude lately, but you find yourself admiring the way Roxy's short skirt rides high up the backs of those thighs. Steady on, Captor, you can’t have everybody, you tell yourself. A traitorous little voice in your head says, why not? Jegus fuck, you need to get laid.

Sollux just wanted a tattoo. He came out of it with ten piercings and a threesome.

Care and fucking of your lispy bipolar nerd.

Karkat ends up in his Ancestor's dreambubble. He's kinda okay with that, all things considered.

Why the Beforan equivalent of yourself didn't appear here, you're not sure, though you suspect it has something to do with direct and indirect transference and the extent to which each of you had contact with game code prior to this remix of the universe; the Ancestors from Alternia had vague memories of being their Beforan selves, so both versions re-instanced, but as far as you know you're the only version of Sollux Captor the game was aware of. Poor Sollux, you jeer internally, all alone in the world. If you were to quadrant yourself, you're not sure whether self-hate or self-pity would be the dominant emotion, but either way, you're getting off on it. God, you make yourself sick. You hold your bulge like you're trying to restrain it, but who the fuck are you kidding. It wraps around your fingers, both tendrils snaking and coiling harder the more you try to will them to stop, like don't-think-of-a-trunkbeast, and you rub at them distractedly because you can't stand not to. Sollux Captor, system architect of the new universe, reduced to thinking with his bulge by two copies of his ancestor being obnoxious at each other. Fuck your hot life.