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Summary
“So,” Mingi finally addressed his new cell buddy, staring over at the wary hero. “What was their name?”
Yunho dropped reluctantly onto the other bunk. “What was whose name?”
“Well, I can only assume by the way you’ve been looking at me ever since you found out my old supe name that I killed someone close to you. So, who were they? Another hero friend of yours? A beloved pet, perhaps? You strike me as an animal lover.”
“What — you think this has to be personal for me to give a shit about the people you’ve killed?” Yunho laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Guess I see why you never tried to go the hero route.”
"Ah, yes," Mingi said dryly, "that's why I became a villain. No other reason."
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Hermione Granger hates Harry Potter just as much as the next Slytherin. Until she doesn't.
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Harry Potter has made it through his fifth year of Hogwarts alive and mostly intact. He has negotiated a marriage contract and peace treaty with Lord Voldemort, and knows he is one of his several remaining Horcruxes.
But no relationship is perfect. Especially not when your alpha is a homicidal Dark Lord who loves to play games and still wants to take over the Ministry.
Series
- Part 2 of Checkmate
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Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are cursed. Probably. Maybe.
All Hermione knows for certain is that he keeps sticking his pointy nose and other body parts where they aren't welcome: like into her dating life, and under her skin, literally.
Meanwhile, all Draco knows for certain is that in all his fantasies of getting into her knickers, he never imagined it happening like that.
A twist of fate, a statistical anomaly, or a sex curse: whatever the cause, there's (probably) just one solution.
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(In which Hermione and Draco Apparate into one another, repeatedly.)
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You May Bury My Body by soulmatecest
Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
24 Oct 2025
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Summary
After many years of self-destructive reflection, Aemond Targaryen has come to terms with the conclusion that he needs Lucerys Velaryon getting run through. Be by his sword or by his cock, he does not care. Both, perhaps, if he’s being honest with himself.
So, when time comes for Lucerys—heir to Driftmark and second son of the Queen—to become betrothed following the old custom of political unions, all his suitors start to drop like flies.
Aemond watches with amusement the chaos that the harm and disappearance of high-borns causes across the realm, all with a perfectly composed expression. Mostly. He knows it won’t take long before someone in the small council or his family finds out the entire thing’s his doing. Doesn’t matter. His dear nephew simply cannot belong to anyone else when he still has so much to repay to Aemond first. Flesh for flesh is what he wants. No, what he needs.
More so after realizing Lucerys himself might be plagued by the same desperate hunger Aemond has been fighting for years.
Can’t have any of it if the little fucker is getting married to someone else.