Perry

Jazz Fenton is in Paris to watch the Summer Olympics.
Jazz Fenton meets a cute girl in a coffee shop.
Surely these two things have nothing in common.

Vampires vs. Werewolves, a tale as old as time. Simple, factual. Until your girlfriend is turned.

Jazz is representing her charity at a gala. Little does she know her soulmate is there too.

An unexpected meet-cute with a woman at the laundromat leads to many, many blushes from Jazz. And a healthy dose of stuttering. Jazz just can't help herself.

Ciryc knew, deep in her core, that she was different. Perhaps she knew from the moment she was decanted, perhaps it was a slow realization. She honestly doesn’t recall when she first began to understand this piece of herself: “brother” did not fit her.

 

Every night since she had been decanted and assigned her bunk, Saffi had traced over the carved letters on her wall each night before falling asleep. She’d discovered them when making her bed, hidden by the mattress, a secret message just for her. Tra was here.

Maz saves who she can and Fay helps her find direction when she needs it.

"Oh, did you want to see Jason?" Robin couldn't hide the distaste in her tone. Wow, even in death or hallucinations, straight people were a disappointment. Jason had treated Chrissy like garbage, which Robin knew was how a lot of girls her age had been conditioned into accepting affection but--
"No, silly, I want to kill him," Chrissy giggled, her bouncing ponytail somehow still perfectly curled even in death.
Okay, Robin took it back. Undead Chrissy ruled.

or

Comes Back Wrong Chrissy Cunningham, and Robin Buckley? Well, she supports women's wrongs

The expression on General Kenobi’s face was sad. “We’ve been seeing more of this, the longer the war goes on. The troopers fall, but they don’t stay at rest.”

Tim Drake is already wired and tired enough as it is.

In which Jason is entirely too nonchalant about his boyfriend being a cryptid.

After being badly injured and dosed up on a new Scarecrow toxin, Tim is not exactly doing well- to say the least. Being kept unconscious on meds may help the pain, but instead it leaves him stuck jumping through memory after memory of loneliness, loss, and the uncomfortable parallels in his life he's tried hard not to address.

Five times Tim Drake gained an unrequited soul bond and the one time he didn't.

Bruce doesn't gain any marks throughout his childhood. Or his adolescence.
His marks appear on his skin in college and afterwards, each one marking the birth of another soulmate.
He thinks he'll end up being the older brother figure or weird uncle to a whole bunch of children, and figures he'll meet them when they're full grown.
He couldn't be more wrong.

In order to take all of Granta's holdings for himself, Tor draws on Telosian tradition and marries Granta off to the corpse of someone in his House. This someone is Tarre Vizsla, the last Mand'alor of House Vizsla and Jedi Master of great renown.
There's a reason the Jedi usually burn their dead. It's a shame the Tor didn't realize that before he stuck Tarre on a remote moon alongside a Force Blank with a habit of making the Force go just a little....odd sometimes.

"One child is of your bloodline," she declared. "The other is a changeling of my realm. Choose wisely and take whichever you believe to be your son."

“Is she trying to eat his face?” Tim’s holding the locket, squinting at the picture of the couple Jason had found earlier.

“What? No,” Jason laughs. “They’re kissing.”

“What’s kissing?”

“It’s this thing humans used to do to express uh, passionate feelings for each other.”

“Why didn’t they just use their words?” Tim wrinkles his nose, shutting the locket and placing it down on the desk with less care that Jason is comfortable with. “It seems pretty unsanitary.”

“Actually, I’ve read it was pleasurable to them,” Jason shrugs. “I wonder why we don’t do it anymore.”