"Listen, you're hot to get me into the armor so that it's a fair fight when you take out your anger on me for not being my dad. Wouldn't it be more fun if we just did that because we liked it?"

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.

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. ♦

Four times they worshipped each other, and one time someone else did.

After regionals, he hits a low. This isn’t particularly surprising – Rei has been doing so good for so long, engaged and alive and happy, he thinks, a little bit happy, so of course a low would have to come and even things out – but how unsurprising it is doesn’t comfort Rei when he wakes up feeling the first embers of something slow and sad and dark burning low in his stomach.

"You can't tell me you didn't pick up jack shit while you were living with the tongue freak and his harem of boytoys." It shouldn't be difficult for three teammates and friends to figure out how they fit, both figuratively, and... not. And yet.

"We should talk about Eliot," Alec says, at the same time Parker says, "We should have sex in a hammock."

Eliot is baking pies. Alec and Parker are hoping to eat pies.

Tyrion knew, as he gazed up at the dark skinned Martell man that this was perhaps his only chance to spirit Sansa out of King's Landing and away from his father's greedy fingers. Tywin Lannister would have married the girl himself if he felt he could have gotten away with it, and so Tyrion knew his own marriage was no protection to Ned Stark's daughter whatsoever. "Invite her, demand her, steal her--whatever you choose, Prince Oberyn, choose it soon. Else my lady wife shall break into more pieces than the stars."

Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

Raleigh is loud as fuck during sex. Mako probably isn't, but maybe Chuck just can't hear her over Raleigh's caterwauling. And Chuck… is not as unaffected by that as he wants to be.

John, Sherlock, and Mary are married. No one knows. Except Molly. Who's helping Mary with a murder. While Sherlock proposes to Janine. Who's working for the guy who's blackmailing Mary and who Mary's planning to kill. Which neither John nor Sherlock know. What could go wrong?!

In which Karkat is very well taken care of.

In which there are vampires and hunters and watchers and humans, Yamamoto Takeshi is more than a little bit crazy, and Gokudera Hayato is caught in between a whole bunch of loyalties and duties.