#Wayward son fanfic

[artsyunderstudy]

"You will never be as lovely as you are now. We will never be here again."

Illustration for One December Night

[according2thelore]

charlotte and i participated in the Wayward Sons Zine, Vol. 3! her art is absolutely fucking gorgeous, and i expect you all to act accordingly (shower her w adoration and kisses)!

i will be posting one chapter onto ao3 every day for the next five days! please go check it out!!! orrrr you can check it out in full on the zine itself now, and give love to the other incredible artists/authors that participated!

buckle in, folks!

happy birthday, sam! <3 i am sorry for what i am about to do to you! <3

thank you @digitalmeowmix for hosting and @fictionallemons for your hard work! and thank you to all our fellow participants for your INCREDIBLE WORK!!!!

-lizzy

once again a huge thank you to @digitalmeowmix for putting this together!! I had a blast putting this together—I’m so glad I bullied lizzy into using this song since it is just so THEM 🫶 It was cool to experiment with color this time around…perhaps expect more in this style in the near future! -charlotte

[paper-beats-writers-block]

For a fanfic to be considered Snowbaz it must include:

“Snow,” “You called me Simon before”

“And then he kisses me”

some form or iteration of “Baz… you’re-you’re wearing jeans”

mention of Simon’s love of butter/scones

[stardustasincocaine]

Got to pinch hit for @theearlgreymage for the AWTWB server exchange and (while it took me forever) ITS POSTED NOW!

Sneak peek below, but you can view the full NSFW glory here on AO3

[artemis-moon23]

Alternative ending to Supernatural:

So the supernatural finale was very anticlimactic and sad, so I have a better one:

‼️(Also spoiler warning)‼️

Okay, so, after Cas gets taken by the empty, instead of him just “being dead” Jack brings him back (cuz he is super powered now)

He is able to reunite with Dean and Sam and heals Dean when he got kebab-ed. Cas decides to keep hunting with the winchesters, saving people, stopping the apocalypses, etc.

After a few years, Dean and Cas convince Sam to live the normal live he always wanted too. They are sad he isn’t hunting with them anymore, but they always keep in touch. He finishes his degree and marries Eileen, and they sometimes join Dean and Cas on hunts.

Dean and Cas use the men of letters base to start a countrywide hunting operation where hunters can share information, weapons, ideas, and collaborate on jobs. (Similar to the Men of Letters, but MUCH better)

The amount of monster related deaths goes way down, and Dean finally gets a part time job. He still hunts and runs the hunting network, but he is able to do a lot more delegating. Both Cas and Dean help run it, so there’s always someone to help get extra information or help on a hunt.

He settles down, though even when he is old, he is still going on hunts. He and Sam meet up all the time, though Sam isn’t sure that it’s a good idea because Dean keeps teaching his son cuss words. (Best uncle ever)

Many years later, Dean dies on a hunt, protecting a family, as he expected to. Cas had told him beforehand that he shouldn’t be hunting at his age, but even old Dean is very stubborn. Sam dies from old age when his time comes not to long after.

Their lives of protecting people lands them in heaven, and Cas spends a lot of his time up there, either hanging with them, or advising Jack.

The hunter society they put together still stands, and in the end, they are proud of their time on earth. (And no one gets randomly kebab-ed!!)

Hope you like my ending better!! Thanks for reading it!! 🧂⭐️🎶🔪🧟‍♂️

(“Carry on my wayward son” starts playing in the background)

[blythelyunaware]

I'm planning to do a Taylor Swift-themed playlist for all our Carry On kiddos but I thought I'd start with my (and let's be honest, the entire fandom's) favourite child. One might imagine that based on his initial broodiness and his colour pallette often being quite dark and grey, Baz might be more reputation-coded but he's an instropective, soft boy. He is all fluffy pink clouds and dreamy heart-eyes. He writes disgustingly sappy poetry and weeps openly over his own prose.

He is a Lover girlie through and through. He has the theatric spirit of a kid who would scream the bridge of "Hits Different" after Simon tries to break up with him - because...

"I FIND THE ARTEFACTS, CRIED OVER A HAT, CURSED THE SPACE THAT I NEEDED! I TRACE THE EVIDENCE MAKE IT MAKE SOME SENSE WHY THE WOUND IS STILL BLEEDING. YOU ARE THE ONE THAT I LOVE, DON'T NEED ANOTHER METAPHOR IT'S SIMPLE ENOUGH!"

And also... "I pictured you with other girls, in love, and threw up on the street".

The running thread between so many of these songs is very much an internal I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! Screaming in silence, anguish, pain...my favourite kind of love.

Labyrinth is Carry On-Baz staring at Simon sleeping all those years and realising overtime that he's fallen in love. *combusts*

Are there more that I could have left in? Any suggestions for the rest of the gang?

[puppiesareperfect]

My venture into fan binding…this is Howlin’ Forever by the amazing @fight-surrender . It’s one of my favorite fics so I was super excited to get to bind it. I can’t wait to read a physical version now that it’s done 💕

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Champagne problems by theresnothis (me)

“Simon Snow dropped my hand in the middle of a dance in our annual Christmas ball to go to Agatha Wellbelove, leaving me crestfallen on the landing”

Can’t believe I wrote carry on fanfic and not aftg fanfic wow am I moving on? (No I’m still planning to reread aftg for the fourth time)

Anyways hope you guys will give this a chance!! It is pretty short just 1k words

[palimpsessed]

"I think he wants this, wants me. And I’m going to make it so good for him. This morning. This life…I’ll keep trying. To keep him well. To keep him happy."

Simon makes good on fulfilling his new mission in life.

Good for Him

A fic written for the Erotic Grope Fest 2023

Rated E, 4k

(text free image under the cut, non-explicit)

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

day 6: The Pearl

The war's over. So now what do you do? Or: a look at Simon pre-wayward son

Rating: T

Length: 680

Warnings: some of this could be interpreted as suicidal ideation.

Read on AO3 or down below

You slouch on the sofa. 

You haven't moved for what feels like days. 

Your boyfriend Baz brings you Chinese takeaway. It's from your favorite restaurant. He is still your boyfriend, only because you're a selfish coward. And Baz is too nice to do the right thing when you're like this. 

You mumble a thank you. The food sits on the coffee table until it goes cold though. Once again you waste money, and Baz’s time, and your life. 

You stretch your arm that's falling asleep–and Merciful Merlin, when was the last time you showered? Wednesday? No, Monday? No, what day is it today?

Saturday your phone tells you. Right. That's why Baz is here in the afternoon instead of in class. God, he must find you repulsive.

Your hoodie hasn’t been washed in ages either. Penny offered to do your laundry, but you refused to let her. Made you feel like a baby, like you can't function on your own, need Penny to pick up after your mess. But Penny’s always had to clean up your messes. You can’t function on your own. 

But you should. You should be able to be a fucking functional human being.

Maybe after you tackle the boyfriend problem you’ll free Penny too. Then you’ll have no one. You’ve had no one before, it’s no excuse to be a lazy piece of shit. And yet you are. 

Baz sits in the chair beside the sofa, watches your tail as it whips restlessly. He used to sit on the same cushion as you. Then the one next to you, then the arm of the sofa at your feet. Now the chair. You wonder how long until he's sitting in the kitchen on the weekends. How long until he can't stand to be in the same room as you? 

You can't stand to be in the same room as yourself now , but Baz has always been the better person out of the two of you. 

Penny enters the room, says something to Baz. 

You stare at the telly. 

They have a conversation, but you don't hear the words. Your dry eyes don’t focus on the old western playing on the screen.

Sometimes it's like you're underwater, trying to look up at everyone else above the waves. Sometimes it's like you're a bird watching from behind your own head. Sometimes it’s like you’re a building that’s been hollowed out, burnt to nothing but concrete and rebar, and you’re expected to act whole. 

Sometimes you wonder if any of this is real, or if your body is still lying in the weeping tower–dead when you were supposed to die. 

You said that to your therapist once and she wanted to unpack it. You didn't. You've been trying so hard to pack everything up. You've been shoving memories down like trash in the bin when you don't feel like taking it out yet. 

You imagine those things, everything you don't want inside, as a novel; you rip out the pages, crumple them beyond recognition, then throw them as far away from yourself as you can. 

But it's all still there. And you don't see the therapist anymore. 

Useless piece of shit, can’t even do the one thing that might help you. 

At midnight–when Baz is gone, and the lights are all off, and Penny's fast asleep, and the room flickers with the changing scenes on the television–only then do you let things surface, certain no one else will know. 

You think of Watford, and the Mage, and the monster that was you the whole time.

You heard once that pearls start out as sand irritating a clam. So you let the sand in. You think of Watford, and The Mage, and all the ways you ruined the world. You roll it around, thinking maybe you can turn it into something beautiful. Maybe if you look at it the right way, it’s all fine, and you’re fine, and you can be normal.

But that's bullshit , you laugh at your own stupidity. 

You don't stop picturing the pearl.

[artsyunderstudy]

I will never regret you.

Illustrations from the epilogue of Someone Wicked.

[clumsyartish]

Last night I couldn't sleep because I was explaining the entire plot of Carry on and the whole Simon snow universe (+Fangirl era) to myself for absolutely no reason. And I came to realize that DAMN this is really a complex universe. I can't even imagine trying to explain anything to my friends, because I don't even know where to start. Like how am I supposed to make them understand the true impact these characters and world have had on me without making them read the entire series? (Including fangirl) like???

[paper-beats-writers-block]

Six Sentence Sunday Monday

This is a day late and I wasn't tagged but I wanted to do this anyway! :DDD

"I’m exhausted. I just finished grading the Latin exams, and I’m finally on my way home. It’s the day before Simon and I’s anniversary, but he likes to celebrate at exactly the moment he first kissed me, which means I have to be home in four hours. Not usually a problem, but people are travelling for the holidays, so the hour I usually travel home will be at least tripled. And it’s snowing. 

This year will be our second year in a row doing this, and I’m positively sick of it. 

Our little apartment in Hackney Wick has served us well for six years now, and I love it to pieces, but we can’t keep this up for much longer. "

From my oneshot WIP You Are That Place that I've been working on for two years now. I'm getting close to done with it so maybe, hopefully posting soon? (it's a Christmas fic though, so I might have to wait until it's more appropriate RIP)

[facewithoutheart]

We got a good thing going

My entry for the @carryonprompts Fest.

Summary: Ten years after Simon and Baz get drunk-married in Vegas during the events of Wayward Son, Baz learns a shocking truth: Simon remembers everything from that night. And now, he’s got to spill that secret to save their marriage.

“I don’t want to be like this.” I’m staring at the puddle of water I failed to mop up. “I don’t.”

Baz stands. Like a man approaching a wild animal, he walks to my side. Slowly, he curls onto the floor beside me.

We lay there, him and I. His body position mirrors mine. His hand rests between us, reaching.

He’s always reaching toward me and I’m always failing to meet him halfway.

“What do you want to be like, then?” he asks. “What do you want to be?”

[Teen, 3.8k, WS-era, Accidental Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending]

Read on ao3

[thelastaerie]

Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Freier Fall | Free Fall (2013) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Marc Borgmann/Kay Engel, Marc Borgmann & Kay Engel, Bettina Bischoff & Marc Borgmann Characters: Marc Borgmann, Kay Engel, Bettina Bischoff, Frank Richter, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Happy Ending Summary:

Final Chapter - Epilogue

An AU story based on Freier Fall characters.

Marc has just joined the famous Berlin LKA, his police career is looking up. All he needs now is to meet the right woman, get married, have 2.3 children and a house of their own.

The night he meets Bettina, he thinks he has hit the jackpot, she’s perfect. But Bettina isn’t the only one Marc meets that night. There is also this mysterious stranger named Kay Engel who says weird things to Marc and two hours later, he’s working with Marc and his colleagues on a big kidnapping case.

Marc befriends Kay over the course of the investigation, soon he finds out the life he planned for himself might not be what his heart really wants…

***

The story will start with Marc’s POV in part 1, then Kay’s in part 2.

I want to play with the idea that Marc meets Bettina and Kay at the same time. His logical brain tells him one thing, but his heart tells him something else 😅

This is not exactly a love-triangle story though, the Marc/Bettina part is mostly implied.

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Day 20: Fangs

Lamb pays the NowNext a visit, Braden really isn’t interested in hearing another lecture from Vegas’ king.

or, I make two vampires homoerotically argue for 900 words lol

(thanks to @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ for inspiring this fic by talking abt Lamden, I never would have thought of them as a pair)

Length: 900 words

Warnings: guns, though none are fired.

Read on AO3 or below :))

“You’ve converted too many, Braden. I’m starting to think you forgot our last conversation,” I say as I walk in to the NowNext leader’s gray, too bright office. He’s got four armed men, in their navy blue faux-military uniforms standing at the corners of the room.

“I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten exactly how much power you hold here, Lamb,” he says from his desk, sounding defensive. “Let me remind you: in San Diego I am king.”

“As vampires we must-” Braden rolls his eyes at the word vampire, as if it’s beneath him. I switch tactics. “One of yours went rouge. He killed at least a dozen people before we found him. That concerns your little cult as much as the wider vampire community.”

“Fine,” he waves his hand dismissively. “Bring Johnson back and he’ll be dealt with.”

“It’s obvious you don’t know how to deal with these things; it’s been taken care of already.”

“What do you want then? You’re going to make me bury the body?”

I shudder at the thought. I don’t kill our own kind, unless it’s absolutely necessary. Even then it weighs on my heart.

“No, we’re teaching him how to properly be a vampire. This is what I’m talking about: you don’t know how to handle these things.”

“Just because I don’t follow your bullshit traditions doesn’t mean I can’t control my own operations here!” Braden bursts.

“These ‘bullshit traditions’ have kept us alive and thriving for millennia before you were even a single gamete in your mother’s womb. We-”

“That’s enough preaching for one day, Lamb!” he interrupts me.

Braden turns to one of the men in the room. “Show the king back to his castle, please.” He’s plastered an unconvincing smile on his face.

Braden’s goon approaches me but I’m faster than him. Before he reaches me, I’ve spun him around and have my fangs against his neck. Blood pumps just under the thin skin protecting his jugular. I won’t bite of course, it’s simply a threat. Braden needs to know that I could.

The other three have their guns pointed at me now.

“Our conversation isn’t finished.” I look Braden in the eyes. The man in my arms struggles but he won’t make it out of my grasp.

“You are on my turf,” Braden says firmly, standing from his desk.

“You won’t have any turf, any devoted followers, or any sterile mansions if you don’t get your vampires under control, Braden.”

“Fine, you’ve made your point,” he huffs.

“I fear that I haven’t.” He thinks he’s above me, but he knows nothing. He doesn’t understand how hard I’ve worked to keep our kind safe.

Braden snaps his fingers, and the other men approach me.

“Gentlemen,” I smile, and they can’t resist what I ask next, “let us have a moment alone, will you?”

It’s difficult thralling other vampires, especially four at once, but I can manage it. I let the one in my arms free, and Braden’s men make their way out the door, into the hallway. I lock the door behind them for good measure.

Braden glares at me. Then he lunges.

His attack takes me by surprise. He’s got me trapped against the cold wall but I don’t let that last.

I spin us and slam Braden against the grey concrete. His heart-rate quickens. He struggles against me, but I manage to hold my own, despite what the thralling took out of me.

“You forget that I’ve had to hunt to survive,” I breathe against the coolness of Braden’s neck. “You are a toddler drinking from juice boxes. Let me teach you to be one of us.” It’s a speech I’ve delivered a dozen times to no avail, but part of me still hopes one day he’ll listen.

When we first met, I had thought, I had hoped… it’s foolish now, thinking of it. It’s obvious he was only using me for information, and a way to reach immortality. I was blinded by his sweet talk and enthusiasm. But still, Braden has so much potential, he—we, together—could be so much more, but he’s too foolish and arrogant to see that.  

“We are nothing like you, Lamb,” Braden spits in my face.

“The fangs filling your mouth say otherwise.” I pull back slightly, lifting his upper lip with my thumb to reveal them. They’ve dropped in his anger and fear. I’d almost forgotten the scent of a frightened victim is nearly as sweet as that of a pleasured one.

Braden tries to push me off but I stay close.

“Darling, you know you could be so much more if you listened to me,” I hold his chin so I can look into his steel blue eyes. “You know you want to give in to those urges a sterilized blood infusion simply can’t fulfill.”

“You do not know me, At All,” he grunts. He’s seething with rage but he knows what I’ve said is true, though he loathes to admit it, even to himself.

I smile.

He shoves me away.

“Stop Turning the entirety of Silicon Valley, Braden,” I command. “And as always, my doors will be open when you change your mind.”

I lean in and place a kiss on his cheek. Braden blushes furiously.

He starts yelling about treaties, and me barging in, and whatever else, but I’m already on my way out of the room.