81 - 100 of 202 Works in Helmstrolls (Homestuck)
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When Equius doesn't give her enough attention, Aradia finds ways to make sure he ends up where he belongs.
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I was reading the summary for this prompt and ended doing this, leaving my imagination flow. For Xagave, with all my love.
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What troll hasn’t heard of young Captain Eridan Ampora? Very few. Who doesn’t want to be in the Condesce’s fleet? Most. While higher ranks equal endless glory, most end up as lackeys awaiting their personal hell of an early grave.
Sollux know just how ‘lucky’ he was to be a psiionic–the only thing that can power the Condesce’s fleet.Series
- Part 3 of Tales from AlterniEarth
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Had Sgrub never existed our twelve post-scratch trolls might never have met, and if they had it would have been under different circumstances. Each of them would have undergone numerous difficulties with life on Alternia. This series of interconnected snippets of their lives sans Sgrub illustrates a possible reality for each of them.
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You were forged for each other in whatever hell you’ll manage to agree upon.
Series
- Part 2 of the nothing kings
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Being part of the Imperial Fleet means you're subject to its rules, being an Ampora means you're more than a little outside of them—enough so to sneak your tyrian matesprit, who, by all rights, ought to be dead onto your top of the fleet command (and start taking over your most trusted crew, the little shit), enough to try out a "revolutionary" new method of helmstroll technology that leaves your pitch free to run rampant over the ship (and be a general nuisance to everyone aboard, per usual), but nowhere near enough to refuse your deeps damned Ancestor a visit.
There's absolutely no way you're getting out of this unscathed, even if he hasn't guessed that you're lowkey plotting to overthrow the Condesce. Fuck.
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It's about when you stop being able to feel shit, that you think you maybe fucked up.
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Aurous the Helmstroll has a lot to experience in this world. Mason means to give her anything she asks for.
And maybe Jermaine won't have a heart attack before all the dust settles.
Series
- Part 4 of So It's Going
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But the Empire speaks Standard, is how Proper had explained it. They don’t want you signing, and they don’t want you speaking nothing they don’t understand, and you get that, you do! Li flusters if you keep secrets. Ain’t nobody like a secret, you least of all: way you figure it, it’s like a lie, and no one wants to lie to the Empire.
It’s just hard to remember, sometimes, when your lusus is hurt, and this’s the tongue she knows. She doesn’t understand you when you start off in Standard! Proper says she’ll pick it up, if you keep talkin’, but what’re you supposed to do in the meanwhile? Let her fret? Let her wonder why her baby’s speaking in tongues?
You know you ought to just let her wonder, let her figure it out, but you can’t. It’s not fair. She’s just a moth, and she does her job of keeping you in line just fine: it’s just up to you to do yours, of making it easy for her, of keeping her safe.
As a child, Riccin's lusus is injured. The Program handles it.
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She nods, brisk, and then slips into that tone you’re used to hearing from her testing: the slight drone that sets the base of your horns to itching as her powers kick in. “Amplification ports were developed in the sixteenth cohort cycle of our empress’s reign,” she recites, “as a tool to aid in the development of her Dreaded Condescensions’ newly fledged fleet. The first institution to use them formally was the Imperial Dreadnought Core: soon afterwards, they became standard in the Imperial Education Program, before spreading throughout the remainder of the empire’s government.”
She blinks. Switches tracks. “Tonight,” she says, eyes shining faintly with gold, “they are common amongst the upper cohorts, but high prices and the lack of availability makes them rare in the leading cycle. Amplification ports are primarily found in members of early Ascension programs, such as the IEP, IPC, PSC, RFP and MANTRA, and the installation of flight-accessible ports in pre-Ascension citizens is illegal under statute 78.C.23-A, without the prior filing of permission and a signed referral stating intent of use by a fleet official of at least ranking 8-A-C.”
At 6 sweeps, Riccin tries to figure out the politics of helming.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,838
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 45
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“Because he’s got control, cuz. Only good thing about him. Cross the lines right, carry the genes, and Shep thinks she could get a motherfucker hale enough to split molecules, make the most wicked of miracles. Shit’s bull, but.. the fuck ever, right?”
“Ah, I don’t know anything about genetics, I’m afraid. I suppose that could be plausible.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Right now, you ain’t sure if you’re convinced right, either. “Heavens. That’s.. hm. I never thought of them just –”
“Cultivating trolls,” he says, delicate, “like plants.”
(Like dogs, Hadean had said once, but you ain’t thinking about Hadean in the here and now, and Pheres isn’t his boy, no matter how treacherous his tastes lie.)
Then he adds: “Does that mean she has your line, too?”
Riccin struggles to deal with the implications of being in the Program, and makes a choice.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,628
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 16
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“And what is your problem?” he demands. “Being her auspistice doesn’t make you her keeper. She has a lusus, Iconic. She doesn’t need a second one. And she has a moirail. We always sleep in the same recuperacoon.” Frustration leaks in. “I’m not going to wake her up. For heaven’s sake, I’m her moirail. I think I’m a lttle more concerned about that then you.”
“But you’re such a bad one, pupa.” His eyes widen. Then he flushes, red flaring fire-bright in his cheeks. “Oh, sorry,” you laugh, “do you prefer me not using that, either? Sugargrub. Sweethorns. Fourprongs, how’s that –”
“I don’t see how you can judge bad moirails, considering yours is going into the helmsblock.” A beat.
“Or is that your preference?” he says, prim. “I know how your.. religion views such things.”
ID objects to Pheres and Sipara's moirallegience. Pheres objects to everything fucking else.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,638
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 65
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“Arm,” she orders, and when you hold it out, she strips off your sleeve like it’s hardly worth a note.
Her nails catch on your skin. When you look down, there’s white streaks left behind, little furrows free of blood. (Give ‘em a second, they’ll fill with orange.) But you can’t look down for long, because she’s prying at your ports, long nails hooking under the metal caps and pulling up.
There’s not much sensation in your ports. There’s just the feeling that it’s wrong, wrong, wrong, the silent klaxon of someone touching something they shouldn’t. Like fingers on your lungs.
Or a hand in your mouth.
You watch the walls, ears up high so you don’t look ungrateful.
Riccin gets a routine medical examine.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 898
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 75
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Your focus was on the helm block, and switching on your phone to the map that Oddscrap had given, you followed it down the still and empty rooms.
It was a longer path than it would have been in the ship’s prime- a blow had ruptured the compression of part of the ship, and you’d need to wait to sort through the locked off areas until you had the spacesuits out. As you cut through the detour, your eyes just can’t seem to help but roam over the rooms you pass through. How odd, you marvel, that you feel like the ghost in the room, rather than the souls of the trolls who were doomed here. But it’s a fleeting sensation, one driven away by the draw of breath in your lungs and the beat of your pumper in your breast. If you shed a tear over every troll who died, you’d just never have time for anything else! It was a shame they hadn’t had the sense to agree to your terms, but you could only move on and use their loss for something good.
You had clients hungry for parts, after all. And helms, if you managed to keep this one alive.
Business is Lethal, when it comes to Alternia- and when these vultures come to roost, they plan on a feast.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,079
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 35
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Wires and Stars: Consummation by tatterdemalionAmberite (amberite), titianArchivist
Fandoms: Homestuck
01 Oct 2018
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==> Present Sollux: You know what you have to do.
Series
- Part 3 of Wires and Stars
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Your name is Sollux and you have just been installed in the helmscolumn. Equius, The Helmsmantenance troll in charge, checks the biowires over for faults.
'He reaches for your bulge sheath again and with a lighter touch than you thought he could manage he starts caressing the opening. Your hum clicks up a notch as you fight against the swelling of your bulge. Fuck. You know you’re going to piss yourself if you give yourself any leeway. But despite all your struggling and clenching down on the bulge that’s now too big for your sheath, it slips out at his touch.
“Good work, Captor.” Equius says, his words clouded by his own chirr, deeper than yours and twice as steady.'
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"I'm searching for the difference between
What content and content can bring
Maybe they're no different 'cause they look the same
Maybe I'm just an algorithm with a given name
But I'm trying to find the difference"Content by Joywave
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like a jiangshi except it doesnt hop and its a carnivorous wall of meat. really more like a carnivorous wall of meat than anything else i guess by Rag for sesquipedalianMarquis
Fandoms: Homestuck
18 Aug 2018
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sollux spends too long in the helmscolumn, shit ensues
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Dualscar makes the helmsman cum multiple times. not too proud of this fic lmao no bully pls
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You're not going to bitch, but you're also not planning on going back any time soon. If someone gets the smart idea to start turning psionics back into batteries, you'd like to be lightyears away when it happens, thank you very fucking much.