When you open yourself up completely to someone else, you also make yourself completely vulnerable.

Rose's face has flattened out into one of those human expressions you find so irritatingly impermeable. "Oh my God," she says, before you can stumble to the beginning of another sentence. "You're about to open your lips and inform me that I have been dosed with sex pollen." It's caliginous sex pollen fic. I don't know what you want from me.

Episodes From the Lives of Twelve Trolls From Various Castes From Low to the Very Highest (and One Pariah Who Fell Out the Bottom of the Spectrum) Who Band Together to Challenge the Rule of Her Imperial Condescension. Featuring Romances in All Four Quadrants, Heretical Philosophies, a Dangerous Amount of Revolutionary Fervor, Regicide, Ancestor Worship and More to be Added Later.

In which young Church ward Gamzee Makara is finally old enough to be officially initiated into the ranks of the subjugglators.

Sollux would be willing to wait forever for Karkat to feel ready, but the drones aren't so patient.

Equius gets ridden, in more than one sense of the word.

Karkat comes to the Derse Dreamers as a gift. Not under the best of circumstances, but they make the best of it.

“Get out,” Karkat growls, from the top of a staircase. His voice is thick and unsteady and he reeks of that red smell, it’s pouring off him, spiking up your heartrate. Sollux takes a startled breath, then another, and crowds up against your back. “I mean it,” Karkat snarls. “I told you guys we were through, why the fuck are you here?”

Dave says, bouncing his heel on your thigh for attention, “Are you drunk? Holy shit, are you— like, are you tripping out? Did Rose just roofie you with her pretentious fuckin’ leaf water? Oh my god.” “Oh my god,” Rose repeats, and colors brilliantly across her cheeks, blood coursing bright and close under her skin.

You'd thought your master's hive was grand, but it's nothing compared to the Imperial Palace. The building rears up before you, sweeping arches and high towers, black stone ornamented with garnet-colored tile. The banners snapping in the wind are brighter, though, a red so bright it looks unnatural: the banners of the Scarlet Emperor, newly risen, the first of his blood since the Signless Sunderer tore down the old empire and built the new one a thousand sweeps ago. Every noble in the Empire is coming to the Capital tonight, bringing gifts to demonstrate their allegiance and beg the new Emperor's favor. Your master is bringing you.

"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.)

"You aren't denying the guilt part," she says happily. You shrug. This was the way you really liked her, alert and predatory, delighted with life and always a little weird. "You could find anybody guilty of something." "That," Terezi declares, "is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me."

The only thing that saves them is that even in the throes of berserk rage Kankri has no clue how to fight.

“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.

Eridan's right. This guy is so bangable, and you're going to be the one to do it. ...just as soon as you can manage to make that whole 'words' thing work again.