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  1. Rec 35

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    Something bright and wild flickered in Eijirou’s eyes. “You will undo me, Kaer’nai.”
    Before Katsuki could answer, priests entered in a line, carrying a brass bowl etched with ancient flame sigils. Thick silver liquid glowed faintly within the bowl. The lead priest bowed. “Runek Bakugou. Drake Kirishima. The hour has come.”
    Eijirou turned toward Katsuki one last time, the heat in his gaze was unmistakable. “Whatever happens, remember,” he whispered. “I will not take what you do not offer. But gods, Katsuki… I have never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
    Before the bowl could be lifted to his lips, Katsuki leaned in, barely brushing Eijirou’s mouth with his own as he spoke. “Tonight, you will not bow to prophecy. You shall only bow to me.”

    Or; The Thren’Kai is a holy union, binding kings to their dragons. As Katsuki ascends to the throne, it is his time for such a bond with Eijirou. This ritual ignites heat in the both of them, and the Dominion’s council expects Katsuki to not only survive it, but to bare its consequences.

    Language:
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    134
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    28 Jan 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Perhaps the best thing I have read ever. Truly the pinnacle of fiction for me.

  2. Rec 93

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    "I'm allergic," he strains out, leaning on the counter again.

    Kiyoomi eyes him suspiciously, but when the act doesn't let up after a couple seconds, he stands and rolls his chair to the other side.

    "Sit down, do you have an epi-pen, or do I need to—"

    "Ahhh, gotcha!" Atsumu grins, pointing finger guns at Kiyoomi. "Look at ya, all ready to play nurse and dote on me! Ya secretly love m— ow! Fuck Omi!"

    -

    sakusa's eternity (six weeks) in hell (the emergency room) with one of the devil's greatest soldiers (miya atsumu)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    15,677
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    47
    Kudos:
    367
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    93
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    24 Dec 2025

  3. Rec 83

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    "Why am I your emergency contact?" Keith asks quietly.
    It's been bugging him since the call. Not Shiro. Not Hunk. Not his mother or Veronica. Hell, even though they've broken up, Allura would've made more sense. But instead it's Keith.
    "Veronica would kill me, Hunk would cry, and Shiro would lecture me about responsibility."
    "And me?"
    "You?" Lance hums, his head lolling to the side to look at Keith. He takes a deep breath. "You'd just come get me."

    OR

    In a kinder post-S8, Allura lives, and Keith and Lance need to figure out how to live without having to co-pilot a giant war machine.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    10,820
    Chapters:
    1/1
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    Comments:
    30
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    391
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    83
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    2,456

    18 Dec 2025

  4. Rec 27

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    It takes Kaveh a moment to realize that Al-Haitham’s eyes aren’t the only part of him that has gone dark. The tips of his ears peek out between strands of silver hair, tinted a bright red. Streaks of the same color make their way down his neck to where the single green gem sits below his clavicle. Al-Haitham watches, open-mouthed and flushed, as Kaveh slides the cake into the oven and sets a timer. He hovers just by Kaveh’s side, as if he were waiting for him to tell him what to do—or what not to do. Interesting.

    “Kaveh,” Al-Haitham repeats, his voice rough, “untie me. Now.”

    Kaveh regards him for a moment longer, amused. “Somehow I don’t think that’s what you want,” he says, trailing a teasing finger along Al-Haitham’s forearm. Al-Haitham shivers, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stands there, rooted to the spot, and stares at Kaveh with dilated pupils. His flush has spread to his face, his cheeks the color of ripe cherries.

    When Al-Haitham displays a keen interest in a certain piece of Kaveh’s dendro technology, Kaveh is more than happy to satisfy that interest.

    Language:
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    227
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    01 Dec 2025

  5. Rec *

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    Phainon panicked... Kind of. At the bare minimum, he felt blindsided— Mydei was purposefully being combative despite Phainon having been nothing but amicable, and now he was making it sound like Phainon was the one in the wrong.

    So he did the most logical thing he could think of in response, of course— acting before really thinking about it— and demonstrated his willingness to participate in what he'd personally perceived as a provocation from the Crown Prince—

    He undid the knot holding the tiny modesty towel in place, the pristine white fabric falling, and with it, so did Mydeimos's gaze. 

    “Oh,” Mydei answered eloquently, an odd expression crossing his face as he stared, unabashedly while Phainon, much more abashedly, allowed him to. 

    Be it through ignorance or wishful thinking, Phainon interprets Mydei's shamelessness as a direct provocation to settle the score between them, following the event of their ten-day, ten-night battle resulting in a draw.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    10,384
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    1/1
    Comments:
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    30 Nov 2025