Maul is going to make himself a widower in short order.

“Queen Miraj is going to betray you,” Feral says, and Cody practically jumps out of his own skin.

Shang Hua really lucked out being reborn as the much-coddled son of one of the most ferocious demon matriarchs of the north. There are only a few, minor, inconsequential downsides.

Sid is smitten. He was smitten from the start, he thinks. The first time he saw Zhenya's dark eyes and hair and smooth skin. The way his cheeks flush the same color as his mouth with exertion, or passion. Sid knows that people make comments about his own mouth, the way it would be more suited on a childbearing male, but he thinks that they can’t possibly have seen Zhenya's. The perfect, sweet cupid's bow of his upper lip and the plush, fat pout of the bottom one.

It’s actually his father who suggests it. “Take the rest of the summer for yourself,” he says. “Do something fun.” “Fun,” Sidney repeats blankly.

They make a point of it, always, telling Zhenya how beautiful Sidney is.

It's not like Phil goes around telling people that his old team bought him his best friend like some people buy hookers. He can't really talk about it with Bozie, either, because Bozie will just say something like, "Come on, I provide the full girlfriend experience," which is so much worse than actually being offended.

Sidney always knew his family would pick who he ended up with. It was how things were done, and no matter what the outside world thought, he'd never questioned it before because it was just the reality: ice was frozen, getting checked against the boards knocked the wind out of you, one day Sid would be matched to someone his parents and the matchmaker and his aunts and uncles and his community thought was the best fit for him. And best of all, Sidney wouldn't have to worry about it. He would just focus on hockey. He'd deal with it one day. Eventually. 'One day' had seemed so much farther away when he was younger.

"The lawyers have found a pretty good loophole," Pat said. "It's not a loophole, it's a long-standing cultural tradition," Mario said, glancing at Sidney. "It's a fucking loophole," Pat reiterated. "But it's a great one."

In which alternate universe Boston had 4th pick and Washington had 5th pick in the 2006 draft, and in which alternate universe the NHL is kind enough make accommodations for players’ personal circumstances. For instance, to allow Washington to pick Alex Ovechkin’s absolutely true, definitely not fake, 100% not-made-up fiancé to come play for the Caps. “You what,” Alex says. “Alex Ovechkin’s who?” —and its aftermath, through the years.

A wolfborn on an airplane was either unbearably reckless or a hockey player. Most of the time, both.

The Republic falls in the span of a day. Xanatos, desperate to keep his son out of the line of fire, makes a reckless deal with the new emperor, whose face he's never seen. But there are dark secrets behind the emperor's fury and prophecies that won't let themselves be thwarted, and Xanatos is nothing but a pawn in a far greater game.

Bly's new wife is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and she's graceful and charming and funny and so far out of his league that he's about to die.

Anora isn't accustomed to misjudging people.

“You must never reject an alpha’s advances, or they will force them. Or direct them elsewhere and sully your name with whores and bastards,” Alicent explains to him, in the days following Aemond’s first heat at the age of 12. Explaining his added duties, his unexpected new place in society. “After enough times an alpha may let you prepare with oil. But at first you must endure the mating bite, and then the pain of every encounter after.” Or: The world teaches Aemond what it means to be an omega. And then, with much time and healing, his new husband helps him unlearn it.

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.

"Oh," Izuna said -- delicately, while studiously reading his folder, "I'm afraid we need someone with a ... strong personality for Naohime." "Why's that?" Hashirama replied, just as painfully polite. The daimyo's mediator kept watching them and scratching little pointy words in his notebook. "Because if your man doesn't prove that he's dangerous and has the personality to use it on her if she pushes him, it's going to turn abusive," Madara drawled. Hashirama stared at him for a blank second. The daimyo's envoy stopped writing; even his stone-faced Aburame bodyguard arched her eyebrows over her darkened spectacles. Tobirama stretched out across the table without another word to take back one of the folders Izuna had spread around him. -- The daimyo is over the whole Uchiha/Senju war. They're going to become one people if they know what's good for them. Madara hates it enough without having to marry a woman too.

So he might have, at some point, tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.) He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Enemies to lovers? No wait hed kill them straight away. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'. There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon. [Secret side-quest unlocked: Easter egg hunt! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!] [Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]

The wedding’s going to be tonight, presumably so no one involved has time to get cold feet, which gives Geralt just enough time to clean up and get the dirt off his armor and overthink every tiny little detail of this arrangement.