KeithKoenar
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Recent works
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Summary
"Mister Shelby! What will it be this time, shirts? Suits?"
"I'm not here for the dry-cleaning."
He hasn't been here for the dry cleaning for quite some time.
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In which Mister Zhang is terribly sick for two weeks and Thomas Shelby ultimately ends up stealing a damn prostitute, because he is a foolish, weak man. A tale of trust and betrayal unfolds then, intertwined with Thomas' perpetual aspiration to expand the business, and too late does he understand it is spiralling out of control. In his desire for a man that would rather laugh at the misery of the world than wallow in it, Thomas forgets the harsh reality of their cruel world, forgets himself. For fours years he closes his eyes, thinks of an earnest smile as if to reassure himself.
There's a red rising star in the east, and a gypsy king at the center of the world.
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As Levi stands guard over a gorge full of ghosts, he finds himself drawn into a slow, dangerous orbit. Two soldiers. One frequency. In the dead zone between war and silence, a voice cuts through Levi’s isolation. And in the static, something blooms: not safe, not soft, but real. Love, like war, asks everything. Speaks in riddles and want, hiding everything but the truth that grows louder with every word.
But desire has no place in a graveyard, and love doesn’t survive long where no one is meant to leave alive. One day, there’s no more hiding - only the choice to burn together, or be buried apart.
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Levi faltered. Just slightly. “You like hearing me talk?”
“Mhm. It’s… nice. You have good voice.”
He said it like a fact. That made it worse, somehow. The brief hum of static between them stretched long, heavy with something threatening to break Levi’s skin.
“That surprise you?”
“Yeah,” Levi admitted, adjusting the dial on the sentinel just to keep his hands moving. “A little.”
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Slow burn and gay angst with something akin to phone sex at the end.
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“That's it. No heroic action or famous last words, he just stumbled and screamed and died in my arms. Nothing more than a footnote in my tragic background story. What a joke.”
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There is not a whole lot of a build up, really. 10K saves a life, Dominic fills the silence with chatter and they latch onto each other. Maybe out of unfullfilled desires and maybe out of lack for better options, but out here that really did not matter that much.
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It was when Ivar broke one of those sacred rules of his that all alarm bells set off in Ubbe's mind. Never call a pet by its name. This slave though, with the mysterious curves and softness to his hands, is too compelling. The pull and push between brothers begins, to their own demise. At first no one sees, of course, but sooner or later this will be disgrace.
As queen of Kattegat, nothing escapes Aslaug.
As Ragnar's first born, Björn smells opportunity.
And Ivar? All Ivar seeks is to be a God of his own making.
Ubbe is merely trying not to drown.
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She has been waiting for the right moment. Power drawn to power, and not in the way you would expect, all sharp eyes and prophecies filled with blood. Ivar relishes in the attention. I must be a gift of the Gods, to find a face as ugly as his without a mirror.
Ubbe watches from afar, wondering when this will break the world they know and live in. Wondering if there is anything he could do to change their fates.
The Gods are watching, guiding their hands. A tale of blood and gore, passion and sacrifice, serpents and wolves, paving the way to eternal Valhalla. It is the Viking way.
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
Following their camping trip, Amos, Holden, and Naomi navigate the new waters of their intertwining relationships.
**Taking a long break**
Series
- Part 2 of synchronous orbits
Bookmarked by KeithKoenar
06 Feb 2026
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the melee at ashford by racoongal
Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A knight of the Seven Kingdoms
07 Feb 2026
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Summary
“Well?” Ser Lyonel chuckles.
“Well ser?” Dunk parrots, confused. The lord barks another laugh.
“Go on then, after her,” he smirks with a shooing motion. Dunk blushes a hearty red.
“Oh- uh no, no milord I should not,” he stutters out.
“Why ever the hell not?”
Duncan has no response beside more blushing and stuttering. Which it seems is response enough.
Ser Lyonel leans forward again, catching Dunk’s gaze from where he’d lowered it— a wild and delighted smile slowly dawning across his face. Dunk feels his blush reach his ears. I’ve been kissed before, he means to protest, but it sounds childish even in his mind.
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AKA Maiden Dunk gets his world rocked.
Bookmarked by KeithKoenar
28 Jan 2026
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Ignore every instinct to flee. Remember: you are a monster too. by Praeyers
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
29 Dec 2025
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Summary
It was just a jacket. Stiles keeps telling himself. It’s just his voice. Stiles keeps telling himself. It’s just murder… Peter keeps telling Stiles.
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Drenched in awful atrocious writing skills, bent backwards inside out and soaked in the author’s daddy issues, Stiles looks for Peter to return the creep-wolf his coat.
Slowburn ladies and gentlemen, the dove is dead and no praying will bring it back to life. Unlike Peter. He’s coming back for Stiles.It’s a threat.
Bookmarked by KeithKoenar
04 Dec 2025
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1000 Ballads Between Summer & Fall by Atheriz for chiptrillino
Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender
05 Nov 2022
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Summary
Jee's life. Zuko's rule. Sokka's chiefdom. This is a story of seemingly opposing forces--life and death, love and war, old and new--that all exist on a continuum of dance and song.
_____There is an old fisherman’s port that sits on the furthermost island away from the Fire National capital. For decades it bears no name. Sailors and merchants coming and going call it all manner of things: ‘The Quiet Wharf’, ‘Old Maid’s Harbor’, ‘The Port of Wood Rot’.
It’s the last that sticks the longest and so it stays. Wood rot. Woodrot. Woodrott. The wooden piles that hold its pier together had long ago turned gray, their splitting grooves riddled with the warts of barnacles. The village of tin shanties bears the soul of an old man. Sensible, for old men born here tend to die here, wind-dried or pickled, and so it is fitting that the air smells of salt and vinegar and neglected things.
To Jee it smells like home.
Bookmarked by KeithKoenar
10 Oct 2025
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Summary
This is what he knows, what he repeats to himself; I am Jaime. I am good, because I will myself to be.
Bookmarked by KeithKoenar
16 Mar 2024