#however if a fic needs a summary and i find one by someone else's bookmark i quote and credit them for it as a placeholder

[aro-aizawa]

@ ppl who explain fanfics' major plot points and how they're resolved in their public bookmarks: genuinely i adore you and would die for you

[guesst]

some of the best fantasy au fics for bnha that i've read

i decided to make a fic rec list of one of my favourite aus/fusions. mostly midoriya-centric, there are some crossovers (with hp), and a lot of different ways in which the authors have taken them - so it could be Quirks, ghosts, outright fantasy aus, spirits, witches etc etc. there isn't a specific order and there aren't a tonne (these are the ones i could find buried in my bookmarks lol), but the ones on the list are all really well written i love them.

i've tried adding relevant information, the summary (shortened if it's pretty long) and just. adding some random tags that may be important. not all of them though. obviously this is not a complete list and there will most definitely be more fics out there, if there are some really good fics that you know that aren't on this list, feel free to tell me, i'd love to read them!!!

i hope someone enjoys these!

Faith Becomes You by SugaSuga

oneshot | gen dfo, quirkless midoriya summary 'There's a tiny shrine in Musutafu that's overgrown with kudzu vines between Izuku's apartment and his middle-school. There may very well still be a god inside it. There may be nothing but the myth of a man from when Quirks were first emerging. Izuku hides in its walls for a while and ends up tending to the forgotten shrine. All good deeds have their impact, don't they?'

Of Mythos and Men by Oceanbreeze7

oneshot | gen spirit animal au, kinda summary (shortened) 'When he was young, Midoriya always wondered what his mythos would be. The matching half to his quirk, the ancestry of its power. Mythos were strange things, not linked genetically like quirks seemed to be. [...] Midoriya hadn't met his mythos. Even in UA. (In his dreams, something called to him, 'Chase me!')'

what a lion cannot manage by LadyLiterature

multichapter | ongoing | f/m, m/m kitsune au, female izuku, future bakudeku summary (shortened) 'She wants to be a hero. Wants to save everyone she meets and even the people she hasn’t. [...] A smart fox avoids fights. A smart fox does not seek them out. A smart fox does not fight for everyone. A smart fox, when they absolutely must, only fights for themselves and what is theirs and nothing else. Izumi, for all that she tries to be, is not a good fox.'

My Magic Academia by Kiterou

series | oneshots and multichapter | ongoing | gen HP crossover, wizard midoriya, platonic bkdk, some ocs summary (shortened) ' [...] In which Midoriya Inko is a witch and Izuku a wizard and even after 150 years of quirks taking over the world, Izuku still couldn't tell Kacchan that he isn't worthless and that he still could become a hero all on his own.'

A Lonely Windchime Makes No Sound by Musecookie

multichapter | ongoing | multi reader/shinso, total fantasy au, very wholesome summary (shortened) ' [...] You enjoy visiting your slightly creepy local library. When you accidentally befriend the elusive owner's familiar, he begins to appear more and more when you visit. You don't really mind, and he doesn't seem to hate you, even when the two of you become tied up in each other's fate as you pursue the secret to reviving a magical species of flower. Soft Strangers to Friends to Lovers type beat with lots of fluff and naps! Sleepy cuddles included.'

The grapes of friendship by Gentrychild

oneshot | gen crack, dfo, vampire izuku summary 'Izuku, a dhampir hiding his real identity as he goes to UA, the best wizard school in the country, spends the day with his friends. None of them are aware of it.'

Yesterday Upon the Stair by PitViperofDoom

multichapter | complete | gen less supernatural, izu's quirk lets him see ghosts, he still has ofa summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless [...] Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.'

sum of all (and by them driven) by Elemental

series | multichapter | ongoing | gen dadzawa, spirits give quirks, izu sees these spirits series summary 'Quirks aren't what you think they are.' first part summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku is medically quirkless, not technically homeless, perpetually exhausted and doing his damned best despite it all. He also sees spirits, which might be cool if not for the fact that a) no one else does, b) they really don't like him very much, and c) he's pretty sure the heroes now think he's a villain working for the League [...]'

The Struggles of a Modern-Day Vampire by miraculousemily47

oneshot | gen crack, 1-a shenanigans, vampire midoriya summary 'After Midoriya Izuku is turned into a vampire towards the end of his first year at U.A., he decides he wants to tell his classmates about his condition. The only problem is that he can't physically say the words, and his classmates are fucking idiots.'

Lights in the Dark by FrostKitten

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen supernatural au, izuku can see demons etc, quirkless/magic au summary (of first part) 'Midoriya Izuku, like most young kids, knows there are monsters. They live in closets, under beds, and occasionally in the park. As he grows older, his friends stop seeing them...but he still does.'

Hand in Unlovable Hand by jumbletea

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen vampire midoriya (and aizawa), dadzawa, toga n dabi n mido being siblings summary 'A collection of stories surrounding a not-quite-human Izuku and everyone he meets along the way.'

Simply Superstitious by CryCaladrius

multichapter | ongoing | gen lots of folklore and yokai and stuff, 'quirkless' magic user izuku, decent dad hisashi too summary (shortened) 'Izuku Midoriya’s father is a Hou-ou — a Japanese phoenix. For some reason, this means yokai have a standing invitation to pester Izuku with their existence. Birds assemble choirs for his birthday. If there’s no cedar leaf under the welcome mat, the amazake babaa that lives two apartments over will be knocking on their door by evening. His yokai-purifying excursions get mistaken for vigilantism far too often. [...]'

Cuckoo Bird (anonymous author)

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen it may be discontinued but theres lots of fae folklore, deku is a changeling, deals etc, plus some platonic shindeku building up?? summary 'There's something off about Midoriya Izuku. (change·ling /ˈCHānjliNG/ noun a child believed to have been secretly substituted by fairies for the parents' real child in infancy.)'

tread softly as you go by IceEckos12

oneshot | gen if you read any fae au please let it be this! has faeries but mido is not one summary 'Humans used to be good at the old ways. They used to know how to bait the trap, to spin a web of words and lies that would ensnare even the most wily. Humans used to be able to twist deceptions around knots of iron and turn them into weapons of power. They forgot a long, long time ago. A boy unwittingly makes a deal with one of the fae, severing his ties to humanity. However, he finds that the fae world is far more strange and complex than he ever could have imagined.'

Hell is just a shoujo manga by supercrunch

multichapter | complete | f/m fantasy au, bakudeku, fem!izuku, isekai, dekusquad stuff, also some iidachako summary (shortened) 'Izuku wakes up crushed under a statue, trapped in the body of a princess who doesn't exist. Turns out she's a demon, which is weird. What's even weirder is the déjà vu that surrounds Kamino palace, reminding her of the events of this one manga she used to love. [...] But that's probably just a coincidence. [...] The problem here, obviously, is that Izuku's the demon princess. Ergo, she's a villain. And that means she's going to die at the end of this manga. Again.'

hold your breath as you cross by cassiopeia721

oneshot | gen dadzawa, another 'quirks are from spirits au' (expect more of those actually), mido is sad :( summary 'As the bridge between the world of guardian spirits and the quirk users who are blessed by them, Izuku's duty is to clean up the mess his predecessor left. It's taken what feels like an eternity worth of work, but Izuku's finally finished, and he's ready to rest at last. Unfortunately, the pro heroes who just watched him take down the Scourge of Kamino have no intention of letting him just wander off, and he finds himself stuck in an interrogation room with a bunch of humans who he's sure will never believe a word he says.'

To See with Eyes Unclouded by CrazySatan

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen witch au, witch midoriya, quirkless mido, bkg is not a good friend series summary 'Midoriya Izuku is a witch. A powerful witch. And even though he doesn't have a quirk, and magic doesn't Work Like That, Izuku ends up a hero. Somehow.'

Demons and Darkness by wolfsrainrules

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen dadzawa, shinso and mido and bkg are becoming friends, they can see monsters/spirits/bad things summary of first part 'Izuku has believed in the things that go bump in the night since he was small. That means he can see them, and almost everyone he knows....can't. So he decides he's going to be the shield humanity needs, no matter what. Eventually, he finds others that See too.'

know what i've made by the marks on my hands by simkjrs

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen dadzawa, quirk spirit au (this inspired most of the others on this list), also eri summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku just wants to lead a quiet, peaceful life. This is foiled by the fact that a) he can see spirits, b) his good nature demands that he help anyone he sees in trouble, and c) he, by all rights, should not exist. [...]'

Izuku haunts class 1-A by Artistic-Gamer

series or multichapter whichever floats your boat | incomplete (hiatus) | other there are some triggering themes! such as suicide, blood, body disfigurement! please take care of yourself and avoid reading if this will hurt you! in other news: so much dadzawa, so much friendship, hurt mido summary (of first part) 'Class 1-A is rumored to be haunted, only the residents are aware it’s more than just a rumor..'

U.A's Resident Ghost by BeyondTheClouds777

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen ghost midoriya, dadzawa, friendships!!!! summary 'There is a ghost at U.A. Not haunting U.A. Not even hanging out at U.A. There is a ghost. Enrolled. As a student of U.A. And it's just Shouta's luck that he has everything to do with it.'

and now, the weather by xylophones

oneshot | gen CRACK, paranormal/ghost hunters au, dekusquad stuff summary 'Izuku runs a fictional horror radio show. Because ghosts aren’t real. Right? (“Holy shit, ghosts are real,” Izuku whispers. Then, with the smugness of a sixteen-year-old who just won a decade long bet, “I knew it! Kacchan owes me five hundred yen!” “Midoriya,” Todoroki sighs, “this ghost is trying to kill us.”)'

U.A Unsolved by handcrusher(ameliafromafairytale)

oneshot | gen (it's a fic of a fic, so if you've read yesterday upon the stair then you'll understand better) izuku can see ghosts thats his quirk summary ' "Hey there, ghosts," Midoriya says, "it's me, ya boy." The dorms are haunted. Shenanigans ensue.'

The Haunting of Class 1-A by BritishRobutt

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | n/a ghost midoriya, vigilante au, crack, the ghost bit is izu's quirk summary 'Everyone always told Izuku he couldn't be a hero, so when he dies and discovers his quirk, he becomes a vigilante out of spite. Whoops. After becoming Spectre, Japan's most wanted vigilante, Izuku realizes he can just fulfill his dreams of going to the top heroic school- after all, who can physically stop him from attending UA when he's a literal ghost?'

Caged by SternStunde

oneshot | gen tododeku, fantasy au (todo is a dragon, mido is a princess), genderbent deku (fem deku) summary 'Then she held up one of the books and smiled. "Want to learn an ancient language with me?" She was kind of a nerd, and she really hoped the dragon was too.'

Magic Runs Deep by draconicschinx

multichapter | ongoing/probably discontinued | gen mido has a quirk and he can see mythical creatures. summary '"Midoriya Izuku has always been good at making friends. Not human ones, really, but they are good friends nonetheless. " Izuku can see and talk to and interact with mythical creatures. It's not exactly the quirk he was hoping for, but he's going to use it to help humans and his non-human friends all the same.'

[lnterjection]

Sleepy Bois Inc and DSMP Fanfic Recs

Uhhh I realized I have a ton of stuff in my bookmarks list and might as well compile a list of favorites because I’m always looking for good fanfics, and this might help some people. Most of these are SBI, though a few focus on things other than their dynamic with each other. Nothing explicit here. Feel free to suggest more recs. 

Fics set in DSMP universe/about DSMP (One-shots first, then longer fics):

One-shots and series of one-shots-

therein lies the madness by sapphicist - 2095 words. Currently says it’s one chapter out of three complete, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. Nice introspective fic on Tommy’s exile and his parallels with Theseus. In 2nd person, but it’s actually done nicely. Mostly angsty, can have hopeful interpretation depending on how you look at it. 

crazy how life goes on without me (2090 words, one-shot) by itisjosh - What if Ghostbur did remember everything, and just pretended to be clueless and vapid? Made me cry. It’s so good. Tortured my heart. 

the inner mechanism of a black box (13521 words, one-shot) by Bee_4 - only work of a series called “system theory”. “Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault. There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.” Yeah so Techno’s mental health goes out the window in this one and its written brilliantly. There’s comfort at the end, if it helps? 

A State For One Man Is No State At All (5247 words, two-shot) by angstfortheangstgod - “A different version of the festival, in which Dream shows up unarmed, the Community House is left intact, a traitor is executed, and Tommy doesn't betray Technoblade.” Ranboo centric. Angst and comfort. 

All the Kings Men series by MollyPollyKinz - “After Ghostbur's suggestion to do Lads on Tour, Tommy finds himself reunited with his family. However, escaping from Dream is going to be harder than anyone previously thought.” A connected series of one-shots and short fics about Tommy, his exile, his family, and escaping Dream. Well written, good characterization, great studies into the characters themselves.

ad astra per aspera series by cacowhistle - Collection of one-shots that start with Tommy’s exile and expand to be about SBI and their dynamic with each other, including a resurrected Wilbur. Really, really well written and probably my favorite of the “Tommy exile fic groups”. 

the fall of a hero series by cracklesnaple - “After being threatened with being exiled yet again, Tommy takes the decision into his own hands. If those around him can't see that he's given up everything to make this nation what it is, then he's not sure he can stay in L'Manburg any longer.” Series about SBI and mainly Tommy, eventually crossing over into Mianite territory in a way some might enjoy and some might now. Writing’s good, though, which is what I care about.

Longer fics-

Rewind (101002 words, 25 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by Anonymous - Best time travel fix-it fic I’ve ever read period. Tubbo and Tommy travel 10 years back from a very messed up future to the first L’Manberg election. Concept may seen a bit weird at first but trust me, holy fuck this is amazing. 

second chances (hurt the most) (8841 words, 4 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by Anonymous - “Wilbur wakes up alone in a bloody room, and has to come to terms with living again. (How can he go on, knowing who's blood is on his hands?)”. Amazing fic where resurrection requires someone else’s life as sacrifice. Phil is dead. Wilbur struggles to come to terms with his father’s decision, and his second chance. 

all scotch, no soda (47466 words, 43 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 14 2021) by fishstixx - “Vulnerability meant trust, though, and trust was a thing not so easily given. Post-exile and canon divergent, follows the consequences of Tommy’s isolation. Expect chases, heists, bloodshed, and the mending of a family.” Features raccon hybrid Tommy being badass, and I live for it. I really, really love this one. 

DON’T FORGET THAT ICARUS FLEW. (16426 words, 6/10 chapters, last updated Jan 1. 2021) by orpheusaki - “The day before and the days that follow Tommy's exile; told through the eyes of The Blood God.” Techno (and Dream) is a god, and gods often forget how the intricacies of the minds of mortals. He’s trying to get better, however. 

what do you fall for? (16374 words, complete) by tablrcloth - Ranboo centric fic with Techno, Phil and Tommy. Ranboo realizes that playing L’Manberg’s politics is less than ideal for him. What can I say, it’s just really good. 

Breathing’s Just a Rhythm (12631 words, 6 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by MollyPollyKinz - “Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too).” Great time travel fic. 

What World Have We Inherited? (73635 words, 12 chapters, unfinished and last updated on Dec 22 2020) by Anonymous (this one has a series with all their works, and they’re all AMAZING). Holy fuck this one is probably one of my favorite fics in the fandom so far. “Wilbur blows everything to hell on the day of the Manburg festival, just like he wanted. When the ashes settle, it's just Tommy and Technoblade. It's not good, but it's better than nothing. It's just them, healing up in a world that never wanted them.” Amazing characterization, worldbuilding, everyone’s internal thoughts are portrayed and written so well. Even if it never updates again I would keep coming back to it. I rec this Anon’s works so much. 

In June, I Changed My Tune (29489 words, 6 chapters, unfinished and last updated on Jan 6 2021) by KryOnBlock - Eret runs away and eventually becomes friends with Techno. Nice cottagecore aesthetic. I have mixed feelings about this one - the writing’s good, descriptions and characterizations are really good. Just that there’s consistent punctuation mistakes and it takes me out of the world a bit. Everything else is good enough for me to continue reading, however. 

stay with him (24353 words, 12 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 9 2021) by junipersand - I especially rec the first chapter, which can be read (and originally was) a standalone fic with the summary “Every ghost had a purpose to fulfill. So what was Tommy’s?” Utterly heartwrenching, probably the most emotionally gut-punching bit of writing I’ve ever read in this fandom. It continues with other lore stuff afterwards that eventually branch off from just SBI and Tommy, but man. I don’t think I can ever forget that first chapter. 

I’m not angry at you, well, sometimes I am (52801 words, 16 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 14 2021) by sircantus - After Tommy is exiled, he runs away to Techno’s house instead of going off with Dream. SBI decide some revenge and “world domination” is in order. 

Fics set in AUs outside DSMP happenings:

One-shots and series of one-shots-

Empty Crowns AU by UnderUrsa - the SBI + Tubbo are gods, and a family. Series of one-shots. Nicely written, what can I say? Some angst, some fluff.

Secure, Contain, Protect AU by blue000jay - Amazingly written SCP AU. Knowledge of the SCP universe would help with understanding some more meta things, but is not needed to understand most of it. Some angst, disturbing themes around memories but nothing terribly gory.

CLASSIFIEDS. (13804 words, finished). SCP pages on SBI, short stories and audio transcriptions as well as files, lots of good lorebuilding here. Features an escape, + Tubbo!

CONFIDENTIALS. (13232 words, finished). Centers on Dream Team.

ARCHIVES. (1270 words, one-shot). What happened after SBI and Tubbo’s escape from the SCP foundation.

old gods (new gods) AU by WriterWinged - the relatively well known SBI gods AU. Amazingly written, great character interpretations. 

the gods are cruel (none crueler then you) (1394 words, one-shot) - As much the grammatical mistake in the title hurts me it’s no doubt one of the best pieces of work in the fandom. 

and yet they find kindness (and so do you) (2/4 chapters posted) - continuation of “the gods are cruel”. 

there’s a risk to the world (but the kindest are strongest) (2/3 chapters posted) - continuation of “the gods are cruel”. 

SBI Antarctic Princes AU by ScripWriter -  One of several Antarctic Empire AUs, this one just has these two preliminary one-shots but they’re nice bits of fun and neatly written. All fluff and mild hurt with lots of comfort so far. 

Younger Holding On Another (1781 words, one-shot). Techno is a good brother and reassures and newly adopted Tommy. 

But Oh, Don’t You Know How It Goes (2511 words. one-shot). Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur have some “fun” at a boring gala. Phil is very exasperated. 

Antarctic Princes ‘verse AU by BirchWrites - AU where Techno, Tommy, and Wilbur are princes of the Antarctic Empire (well, Techno’s technically the emperor now), but this time the events of DSMP still happen (at least up to the 1st season).

Homeward bound for the arctic ground (10562 words, one-shot). Wilbur and Tommy travel to the Antarctic Empire in person to ask Techno for help in fighting Schlatt. Good worldbuilding and acknowledges Wilbur’s beginnings of insanity while still being rather light.

Surprise Hugs (2542 words, one-shot). Dream doesn’t realize Tommy is Techno’s brother and thinks he’s going to get killed for tackling the infamous Blood God.

Family Reunions (1396 words, one-shot). Fundy never realized he’s loyalty and Techno informs him unexpectedly.

Longer fics-

leave me your starlight (14620 words, 4 chapters, unfinished and last updated Jan 11 2021) by findingkairos - “Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war. This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.“ Amazing backstory fic on Phil and Techno’s relationships, one of my absolute personal favorites. Very well written and really digs into the intricacies of Techno’s character (or an interpretation of it, but hey, that’s what all fanfiction is).

I was a kid in a village, doing alright, then I became a prince overnight (21736 words, 5 chapters, last updated Jan 13 2021) by sircantus - another Antarctic princes AU, this time centering on 16 year old Tommy catching the attention of Phil, Techno, and Wilbur after thwarting an assassination attempt. Really well written. Actually, I rec all of sircantus’ SBI stuff because they do amazing work.

antarctic adage (26591 words, 4/7 chapters posted, last updated Jan 13 2021) by blue000jay - Another very well written Antarctic princes AU with Emperor/ruler Phil. Are we seeing a pattern yet? blue000jay is another writer I’d rec, with really great SBI stuff.

a renewal of faith, and of family (56684 words, 31 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 13 2021) by SolivangantStories - One of the only fics here that doesn’t feature SBI, this one is Tubbo and Dream centered. Basically, the DSMP!Tubbo is executed by Schlatt and wakes up in a world where Manhunt!Dream is trying not to die and is also actually a nice person, to Tubbo’s surprise and confusion. Not SBI and technically not even DSMP, but it’s really good so I’ve decided to rec it anyway.

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

And This Is How It Starts | Susan Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight homophobia, shitty friends???

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Everything your soulmate loses, you receive. Turns out, Y/N’s soulmate is very forgetful. 

Request: helloo. can you write a sapphic susan fic please! take it whatever way you'd like :)

A/N: I’m not sure how many people read Susan fics, but I really like this one :D

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

“Gross, can you guys please cut it out?” Y/N stated, watching her best friend suck faces with her soulmate. She was on his lap and their make out session was starting to grow more intense than Y/N was comfortable with. Hannah pulls away from Alex with an exaggerated groan. 

“You’re just jealous you’re still stuck in the ‘lose it and receive it’ phase. Not my fault you haven’t found him yet.” Her voice was light and teasing, but Y/N couldn’t help but fell her heart rip. 

“I’ll find her eventually,” Y/N sighed, taking a book out of her schoolbag. It was a small, very beat-up copy of The Hunger Games. 

“Her?” Alex responded, tearing his gaze from Hannah’s face. “How do you know it’s a her?” 

Y/N opened the book delicately to reveal “Susan Pevensie” written in perfect cursive on the back of the front cover. The book had multiple stains on it, most likely tea judging by the color, and the same perfect cursive riddled the pages. Whoever Susan was, she adored this book with her life. Y/N’s fingertips lightly traced the writing before turning the book for her friends to see. Hannah scrunches her face at it. 

“It could be his friends, you know. Like she lent it to him and he lost it,” Alex kisses Hannah’s cheek. 

“Or this Susan girl is his girlfriend,” Hannah smirks.

“Or,” Y/N was growing frustrated. Whenever she hinted that her soulmate might be a girl, everyone dismissed her suspicions. “My soulmate is Susan Pevensie and she keeps losing her things. And besides, this book is really loved, she wouldn’t just give it to someone.” 

Hannah scoffed, tossing her hair in a very I know everything, and you don’t kind of way. “Fine, believe what you want. Not sure why you would want a girl soulmate anyway, I know I wouldn’t.” 

“Well, yeah, of course you don’t. You’re straight,” Y/N flipped to a random page and read the gorgeous handwriting that was scrawled in the margins. Her mouth twitched slightly at how perfect the script was. 

“What? And you aren’t?” 

“No, I’m not.” Y/N’s eyes didn’t move from the page as she spoke. The teens sat in silence. “Is there a problem?” 

“No! No, of course not,” Alex answered quickly. ‘I guess we just, uh, didn’t expect it… I guess.” 

“Well, surprise. Now that that’s out of the way, do you guys like The Hunger Games?” 

The two grew even more uncomfortable at the sudden tension they were feeling. “No, not necessarily.” 

“She seems to. A lot. And there’s a cute little strawberry bookmark on page 47,” Y/N sighed dreamily picturing what Susan must look like. Based on her cursive alone, she must be absolutely jaw-dropping. 

“Has, er, Susan lost anything else recently?” Alex asked. Y/N nodded excitedly, digging in her bag again. She pulled out a set of keys with a feather pendant keychain, a light pink lipstick, a glass water bottle, and a small fabric coin purse. Y/N grinned down at the items then looked back towards her friends. 

“Oh, she must be quite forgetful. Do you have any other stuff?” Y/N’s grin brightened even more. 

“Oh, loads, this is just what she’s lost within the past week,” The keys jingled as she moved her hands. “The keys must’ve really ruined her day. I wonder what they’re to.” 

“Hopefully somewhere in England. Where’s the money from?” Hannah gestured to the yellow coin purse. Y/N shrugged and tossed it towards her friends. It was rather small, barely the size of Y/N’s palm, and it had a gorgeous diamond quilt pattern. 

“No clue. I haven’t opened it if I’m being quite honest.” Alex’s noble fingers undid the clasp and looked inside. 

“Well, it’s definitely British currency, which is helpful.” He tipped the pouch and emptied the contents into his hand. As expected, a variety of different coins came toppling out, along with a folded piece of paper and various pins. “Can I have this?” 

“No, you cannot have my soulmate’s belongings. Give me that,” Y/N grabs ahold of all the bag and its contents. With her hand cupped like a funnel, the pins and money fall smoothly into the coin purse. Y/N discards the pouch into her bag and begins to unfold the paper. 

She had expected the paper to be riddled with text, like a to-do list or a small reminder. Instead, it appeared to be a little photograph of a family. The paper itself seemed to be fragile as if it had been handled a lot or had gotten wet, so Y/N handled the photo with care. 

The scene depicted the smallest of the group, a little girl, giggling up at the oldest as the other two looked on with large smiles. Y/N turned the photo to look at the back, just in case any date was included with the photo. In the same gorgeous script as the book, Lucy laughing at Peter because Ed insulted him “in the name of justice.” June 15  was written in black ink. Y/N turned the picture over frantically and scanned the faces of the family. 

Susan was absolutely beautiful; her dark brown hair was styled in effortless waves and her lips were painted with a cherry red color. Her eyes were wrinkled in the corners, due to her contagious smile, and she looked like she was filled to the brim with happiness. Y/N had never seen such gorgeous baby blue eyes. 

The poor girl was speechless, her mind running a mile a second and vision focusing on only Susan’s portrait. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Y/N murmured breathlessly. 

“Who is?” 

Y/N looked up at her friends, turning the photo to show them. 

“Susan, my soulmate.” 

~ 

Susan read over the essay that sat in her lap, taking in every detail of the writing. It wasn’t hers, but it was her soulmate’s misplaced homework. The topic wasn’t overly exciting, an analysis of a book Susan hasn’t read, but just the way her soulmate wrote captivated her. Y/N L/N, which was the name written on the top of the paper, had such a poetic way of writing. It was as if she was telling Susan a story, rather than writing about an 18th century novel. 

“Reading the essay again, are we?” Peter snickered from next to her. Susan would have hit him with the paper, but she didn’t want to risk damaging it. 

“Yes, what’s the problem with that?” 

“Nothing, Su, I just don’t think rereading missing homework is going to bring Y/N any closer to you. It’s over a year old.” Peter had found his soulmate when he was young, so he didn’t quite understand his siblings’ desire to find their other halves so quickly. 

“Not physically, but I already know a lot about her from this one paper. I know her handwriting, how she talks, the way she feels about some things…” 

“Yeah, how she feels about classic literature. Not exactly groundbreaking.” Peter sunk deeper into the couch cushion in an attempt to get comfortable. 

“Maybe not to you, but to me it is. You don’t have to be such a happiness drain, you know.” Susan was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn’t want her older brother to snatch the paper away from her, so she gently creased it and placed it into her notebook. 

“I’m just taking the piss.” 

“Well, it’s not funny. And shouldn’t you be doing your wash? We leave for school tomorrow.” Susan stood up, lifting her bag off of the floor and onto her shoulder. 

“Yes, alright mother.” 

~

“Y/N! Are you coming?” Hannah hollered over her shoulder. She was walking towards the train station with a large group of her friends. Y/N waved her off. 

“I’ll meet you there! Save me a seat, yeah?” Hannah shrugged her off and continued the conversion she was more invested in. 

Y/N sighed, watching their backs disappear into the distance. She never quite liked the group Hannah was friends with, so them leaving her out never quite bothered her. Especially when she could get sandwiches for the train ride. 

The teen was waiting at a crosswalk when she spotted her. Susan was stood at the newspaper stand outside of the corner store Y/N was going to. She looked stunning as she flipped idly through a Vogue magazine. The sun shone across her hair and Y/N thought she looked similar to an angel. 

When the light turned green, Y/N scurried across the street in order to meet her love. However, she paused a few paces away to steady her breathing. 

“Excuse me, are you Susan Pevensie?” Y/N spoke, voice shaking. Susan turned around, utterly confused. Y/N was right in her assumption; Susan was in fact an angel. An angel that looked even more heavenly in person. 

“Yes, and may I ask who you are? And how you know my name?” 

“Oh, right, um I’m Y/N L/N. I’m not sure if you know who-” Susan’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but cut Y/N off. 

“You’re my soulmate.” Her red lips were slightly agape as she took in Y/N’s appearance. “Excuse my bluntness, but you’re even prettier than I imagined.” 

Y/N’s cheeks grew hot and her fingers fumbled with the buckles on her bag. She was much more nervous than she had hoped, but Y/N couldn’t help it. Once the bag was open, she gripped Susan’s possessions and held them out. 

“You need to keep better track of your things, love.” Susan’s perfectly manicured fingers brushed Y/N’s as she took back her book and keys. Y/N’s legs felt like jelly. 

“How could you possibly know what I looked like?” 

“You lost a picture of your family. Well, I suppose a coin purse with a picture folded inside. Still, a picture was lost and I saw it.” Y/N rambled, making Susan giggle. “I’ve been looking for you for ages,” 

“And I you, darling.” Susan placed her belongings into her bag and embraced Y/N. Y/N didn’t quite know what to do; Susan smelt of rose petals and honey and her hair was so soft as it brushed against Y/N’s cheek. All the same, Y/N wrapped her arms loosely around Susan’s waist. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” She whispered into Y/N’s ear. Y/N could have fainted on the spot, but she squeaked out a small yes. 

Susan kept her arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck as she kissed her gently. Y/N’s thumbs danced across the floral patterned fabric that covered her hips as she kissed back. It was light and fleeting, but it still made Y/N feel like she was going to burst. The pair pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. Susan’s were even bluer in person. 

“Can I buy you a sandwich?” Y/N croaked, cutting the tension. Susan giggled happily. 

“As long as you let me cover the dessert.” 

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rossi’s New Book (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Reader owns a bookstore and is hosting a book reading for a new book by David Rossi, and sees someone cute browsing her store during the reading.

Warnings: It’s just a fluffly little meet cute. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist 

For those of you using Interactive Fics or something similar, I use Y/N and Y/L/N once or twice so make sure you have the replacements saved

~~~

After years of hard work, your small bookstore had become a bit of a hit in the DC area. A year ago you would have had 4 or 5 sales a day, but those days are long behind you. Your little bookstore had been featured in multiple articles and news stories, which raved about the unique selection, small coffee shop, and the bookstore cat, Molly, (who had wandered into the shop one day and never left). Today was going to be another busy one - not that you mind - due to a local author hosting a reading for his newest book. David Rossi is definitely one of the biggest names you’ve ever hosted in your store, and even though the reading wouldn’t start for a while, there was already a small crowd waiting in anticipation. 

Your recent growth in popularity meant that you didn’t need to worry much about the reading. You had a small team of 5 working in your store, plus a team Rossi’s editor had brought to help keep the crowd under control. This meant you could happily drink your coffee and enjoy the reading while everyone else worked diligently. As the time grew nearer and the crowd began to find seats, you noticed one person who didn’t seem too interested in the reading; instead, the tall man was browsing the store’s non-fiction section. Even though you weren’t technically on duty right now, you couldn’t help but be intrigued. The man looked confused, maybe a little nervous? He seemed like he was searching for something specific, and hey, no one knows the store better than you. He glanced up towards you, and you would’ve been embarrassed, but his eyes widened and he looked back towards the shelves quickly. Oh yeah, you’re definitely going over there. Really, it’s your job as the owner to help the very, very cute man find whatever he’s looking for. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you make your way over, trying to build as much confidence as possible.

“Hi, can I help you find anything?” You spoke quickly, probably a little too quickly. Probably shouldn’t have had that third cup of coffee. 

“O-oh, um, no that’s ok, I can try and find it myself.” He answered, while messing with his hands nervously.

“You sure? I own the place, I know it like the back of my hand. I can help you find your book before the reading starts…” You ended the sentence hopefully. You weren’t sure why you wanted to talk to him so badly, but ultimately your business came first. You didn’t want to badger a potential customer so much to the point he never returned.

“Oh, I’m not here for the reading. Well, I am but, I’ve already read the book. Three times. I was just looking for this new biography on Mary McLeod Bethune? It came out about a month ago but I haven’t had the time to pick it up yet, I was hoping you might have it in stock still?” You vaguely remembered ordering a small shipment of the book he was describing, and as far as you were aware, you’d only sold a few. 

“Oh sure, that’ll actually be just over here,” You began walking as you spoke, bringing him to the other side of the shelf, “We’ve grown so much, we had to make a separate section for biographies.” Your eyes immediately found multiple copies of the book in the middle of the shelf, and you reached out to grab it. The man did the same, causing your hands to hit each other instead of the book. You looked up at him as he looked away from you, a blush evident on his face, before he reached out and grabbed the book. As he studied the back cover for a second - damn, he reads fast - you remembered what he had mentioned earlier. “Did you say that you’d already read the new Rossi book? Three times? Didn’t it just come out yesterday?” You had only just finished the book, but that was because you had the advantage of early access; you received the shipment a week ago. 

“Oh, um, Rossi is actually one of my coworkers. He gave me a copy last week. Me and a few of my other coworkers are here to support him.” His eyes drifted over your shoulder, and when you turned you saw a small group by your cafe area, drinking coffee and talking to David Rossi, who you recognized from the back cover of his many books. When you turned back, his eyes were on you, the book he had been interested in tucked under his arms.

“So you’re an FBI agent then?” 

“Y-yeah.” He hesitantly held a hand out towards you, “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You answered, taking his hand. Both of your hands lingered for a moment after shaking, and the man, Spencer, opened his mouth to speak as he let go. Before the words escaped him, however, Rossi’s editor spoke loudly, making both of you turn and gaining the attention of the crowd, as she began introducing Rossi. “You better get over there,” you whispered to Spencer, “Kind of hard to be supportive if you’re wasting time with me.” He gave you a smile as he nodded, and made his way towards his group of friends. If you hadn’t walked in the other direction, towards some of your employees standing near the back of the crowd, you would’ve noticed Spencer’s coworkers lightly teasing him for the encounter.

~~~

After the reading was over, you helped your overwhelmed staff get everyone checked out and out of the store, as you could tell they were all tired and ready to get home. Hopefully once the place was mostly empty, you could get them all back in the comfort of their homes and run the store on your own until closing time. During all the craziness, your mind had allowed you to forget about the cute FBI agent who had distracted you during the reading. You finished checking out the last customer in your line, and noticed that the other cashiers only had a few people each to check out. You figured now would be the best time to thank Agent Rossi for choosing your store to host his event, but just as the thought came to you, your name was being called from across the store.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” Agent Rossi was now walking over to you, so you quickly began walking towards him, meeting him in the middle with a hand to shake.

“Agent Rossi, you did great up there! The book is amazing, we’ll have to restock pretty soon, I’m sure of it,” you let go of his hand, smiling widely. “Thank you so much for choosing my little shop for this reading.”

“Oh of course, I couldn’t think of a better place. Don’t be surprised when you get a call from my editor when I release my next book.” Your smile somehow managed to get wider, excited at the prospect of having a recurring author visit your bookshop. “Oh, and don’t be surprised when you receive a call from the young doctor either.” He said this with a wink, and you felt a blush rise on your face pretty quickly.

“I-I haven't given him my number, sir.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. If he doesn’t get the guts to ask you tonight, We have a pretty great technical analyst at the FBI that’ll find it for him, trust me. She’s very...driven.” Even though you should probably be a little concerned at the idea of an FBI agent researching you, you giggled, looking towards Spencer over Rossi’s shoulder, who was still holding the book you had helped him find, not having checked out yet.

“Well, I guess I’ll look forward to his call.” You and Rossi said your goodbyes, and you headed back towards your cashiers. They no longer had a line, and besides the remaining FBI agents, the store was empty. You sent them both home, and sat behind the counter yourself, and grabbed the book you were currently reading from its hiding spot under the counter to entertain yourself as you waited for Spencer to approach you.

After about 5 minutes of reading, you heard footsteps coming towards you, and looked up to see Spencer, still with a light blush on his face. “All set?” You asked, placing your bookmark in your book before placing it back under the counter.

“Uh, yeah, just the one book for today.” He handed you the book, and you quickly scanned it before telling him his total. He handed you a credit card, and you felt a little disappointed that he hadn’t mentioned wanting your number yet. As you handed back to him his card and receipt, an idea occurred to you. 

“Did you want a loyalty card? Buy 4 books and get the 5th half off.” You said, grabbing one of the cards from its stack behind the counter. 

“Sure! That sounds great.” Before his sentence was over, you gave the card a quick stamp, and flipped it over before you grabbed a pen that had been sitting in front of you. Spencer leaned towards you, clearly confused as to what you were writing. With a final pen stroke, you handed the card to him with a smile.

“Maybe we can talk about that book sometime, I’d love to learn more about Mary McLeod Betune.” Despite the slight blush on your face as you said the words, your confidence levels were higher than ever, as Spencer looked at you with a really big smile. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll give you a call.” He answered simply, before turning back towards his friends. As they all made their exit from the store, He looked at you one last time and gave you a shy wave before walking out of the door. From the window outside, you saw Rossi give you one last wink, and if saying “I told you so” to you before heading out of your sight. You stared at the door for a few seconds after they had left, only being stirred out of your trance when Molly jumped onto your lap, purring lightly and getting her fur all over your black shirt. With a small laugh, you picked her up and held her as you closed up the shop, the cute doctor never leaving your thoughts.

[prolestariwrites]

Penance

Fandom: Devil May Cry Pairing: Credo/Reader Rating: Explicit Tags: Rough sex, Light BDSM, Orgasm denial, Sub/dom, Boss/employee Word Count: 3923

Summary: Your relationship with Credo has taken a sudden change now that he has risen to the top ranks of the Order. His new colder demeanor sets off an argument that ends with you offering your penance for defying your master.

A/N: The idea for this fic came about from a conversation that happened in the server for the SSS Zine. You can imagine what sort of topics come up in a NSFW zine server, and let's say that we have a joke about what happens when the writers show up... lol.

This is dedicated to the awesome writers for the zine and their amazing talent! If you want to check them out please visit the blog at @ssszine.

This is currently a oneshot; however if enough people like it and want more I'm happy to write another part or more! So please feel free to let me know what you thought and I'll write more with Credo and this reader. Special thanks to @solynacea for reading this over.

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It’s cliche, you know this. Sleeping with your supervisor, the whole boss slash secretary thing. It’s an old cliche, and not even a good one, more suited for those paperback books that would get passed around the girls’ dormitory in school. But it happened, and then happened again, and continues to happen often enough that you’ve started to feel more than just attraction to the High Commander.

Credo has changed, however, especially after his parents died and he assumed charge of both the Holy Knights and his younger sister. He is tenser now, more focused, more drawn. Where Credo would talk freely with you before—after all, your friendly and flirtatious banter is what got you into this situation in the first place—now his orders are curt and precise, like everything else in his life. It’s only gotten worse since the latest attack by the demons, and his sister was put at risk, two of his men dying while protecting her.

He wears the same grave expression that is his new default when you enter his office. You push the door shut with a firm click and walk to the desk that is covered in maps and papers, several books propped together with notes bookmarking sections. Credo looks up from his writing with a frown and puts down his pen. “What do you need?” he asks.

“Just bringing you something.” You set the tray down on a side table and busy yourself lifting lids from the steaming plates and pouring a cup of coffee. “It’s well past dinner time,” you explain. “I figured you would be hungry and—”

You are cut off with two hands on your hips, and Credo yanks you back against him. “You should have asked,” he murmurs into your ear.

“Just so you could refuse?” You turn to face him, and his hands slide around your waist. “Will you eat something?”

Credo shakes his head. “I’m not hungry. You can take it with you when you go.”

He releases you and walks back behind his desk, and you frown in disappointment. “That’s it? Can I at least help you?”

“No.” He doesn’t bother to look up, taking his seat and picking up the pen.

Several moments tick by as you stare at him, your heart pounding. This dismissiveness is also new, a cruel side to him that never existed before. You should do what he says, but a defiant streak flares suddenly, and you toss the napkin in your hand to the tray. “I’m not leaving until you eat something,” you snap.

You fold your arms when Credo smirks at his papers. “Suit yourself. You’ll be standing there a while then.”

Something about his tone sets you off. You snatch up a dinner roll from the tray and throw it at him, huffing in triumph when it smacks him on the temple. “Fine!” you shout, and when his head snaps up, you turn and stalk towards the door.

You yank the door open but it slams shut immediately. Credo is behind you, and you feel his hard body press against yours, pushing you against the door. You squirm a bit, testing him, but he is immovable, his hands pressed to the wood on either side of your head. “Turn around,” he orders.

That voice is the one he uses with his men, especially the young ones who are new recruits for the Order. You have heard it a thousand times, but never directed at you; slowly you turn and face him, pressing back against the solid oak as he leans closer. “You have attacked an officer of the court.”

Credo’s tone is all business, but you can’t help the nervous laughter that escapes you. “Attacked?” you echo, your voice a tiny bit shrill. “Is that what you called it?”

“Launching a projectile at my head—”

“It was bread for goodness’ sake—”

“These are not the actions of a woman of the Order or my assistant!” he hisses.

You are taken aback, your hands spreading against the door as you try to shrink away. “I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“Sorry what?”

Swallowing thickly, you answer, “Sorry, Sir.”

Credo’s eyes travel your face. “That’s better,” he says quietly.

With a nod you gaze back at him. Obviously he is angry, but why? Your little outburst seems to be outpaced by his reaction, and the minutes tick by as you wait for him to dismiss you. But Credo seems content to examine you closely, and you watch as his gaze turns downwards. “May I go, Sir?” you ask.

“No,” answers Credo. His eyes dart up to yours. “We are here to serve the Order. Have you forgotten that?”

“No, Sir.”

“And whom does the Order serve?”

You clear your throat before answering, “The Savior.”

“Exactly. The Savior, our Great Deliverer, our Protector. The one whose light shines on us all.” Credo tilts his head. “What do you suppose the Savior would think of someone who threatens one of his chosen officers?”

Shaking your head, your eyes blink rapidly. “I… I don’t…”

You jump when you feel his touch against your jaw. “He would be displeased, as am I. I think some penance is in order, don’t you?”

There is something in the way he looks at you that has you captured. This is a new Credo, a blend of the passionate man you had known and the demanding captain he is now. The idea of penance makes your heart skip, and when he eases back slightly you take in a deep breath, finding it easier to breathe without your bodies touching.

“Down on your knees,” he says.

Your breath catches in your throat as you immediately obey, sinking to the floor, your eyes locked onto his. Your heart starts to pound as you watch him open his belt. “You need to pray for forgiveness,” Credo continues.

“Forgive me, Sir,” you answer.

“Forgive you?” His tone is almost teasing now, and your gaze drops to where his hand reaches into the front of his pants. You can see the hint of dark, reddish hair just below the hem of his shirt, the trail that you know well, and you swallow around a dry throat. “Forgive you for what?”

“Um…” You lick your lips unconsciously as his hand moves, hidden by the fabric. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? But like this? “Forgive me for my insolence, Sir,” you stammer.

“Hmmm.” His free hand slides into your hair and you shiver in response. The hand moves to cup your cheek, and your lips part when his thumb brushes against them. “Pray to Sparda, our Savior.”

“Forgive me, o Savior,” you murmur as you close your eyes. His fingers caress your cheek and you fight the urge to press a kiss to his palm. “I live to serve you. I want to… to obey…”

Your words are cut off when something presses to your mouth, and immediately you open. The slick head of his cock slides between your lips, and you let go a groan as your jaw goes slack to accommodate him. Your body responds at once, the tight suspense at this game or confession or whatever it is melting into an ache inside you for more. Playing the obedient servant had never been an attractive idea before; you always liked how Credo treated you as an equal despite his station, and your work and banter and even lovemaking reflected that his desire and eagerness matched yours.

But now that he has taken control—or rather, wrenched it from you—you embrace it, sinking into his command the way you’ve seen countless knights do at his word. And it is freeing to give in to him, to kneel and take his cock so willingly, as if the act was obeying Sparda himself. You choke slightly when he thrusts deep into your throat, but hold steady, determined to do this for him. Credo is not just your lover, but your master, and you realize all this time you’ve just been waiting to be possessed by him.

His cock is thick and hard as rock as it slides in and out of your mouth. Your eyes remain closed so you can focus, swallowing tightly around him at each pass, eagerly working your throat as his arousal drips from the tip. You work to take him without complaint or even moving much at all, the feel of his palm on your head guiding you steadily all you need as the deep desire to please him at any cost flares hot inside you. You want to be consumed by it, to give everything you can to it, and with a groan you reach up and grab his hips, leaning forward to swallow him as you tilt your head for more.

Credo grips your hair and tugs you back gently. His cock falls from your mouth, the two connected with a thin strip of saliva for just a moment before it breaks on your chin. You blink up at him in surprise, your mouth still open and waiting, and he smiles as his hand brushes over your swollen lips. “Eager girl,” he praises, and it makes you shiver in delight.

“Sir…?” you whisper.

“You came here to feed me and here I am feeding you,” he chuckles.

He rests the hard length against your lips, and you sigh, pressing a kiss against the underside. But then Credo moves back, and you sag a bit, watching him in confusion. “Stand up,” he orders.

Again you scramble to obey, and when he jerks his head to the side, you follow his unspoken command and step towards his desk. Credo’s hands are on you in an instant, positioning you against the side, his hips firm against your backside as he presses you against the edge.

His lips are hot against your neck as he starts to unbutton your dress. Once the line of buttons along your spine is undone he pulls the seams apart, as if unwrapping you like a present. His mouth moves to your shoulder as he peels the dress down your arms while you lift them to assist; once the dress is hanging at your hips he quickly unhooks your bra and yanks it away, tossing it into the room.

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his hands roam your body, leaving fiery trails with his fingertips along your stomach and up to your chest. His mouth returns to the crook of your neck, sucking on the skin as he grabs your breasts, squeezing them possessively. You reach back to grip his hips, arching into his touch as best as you can, but his solid body has yours practically trapped. The strength in his arms far outmatches yours, and you remain helpless against him as he touches you at his leisure, teasing your nipples into stiff buds and grazing the skin of your twitching stomach.

Credo lets your neck go with a loud smack of his lips. “This is much better,” he says into your ear. Slowly he grinds his hips forward, and you feel the hard outline of his cock press to your backside, rubbing against the fabric. “Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes,” you answer.

You bite your lip as he flicks your nipples. “You are here to serve me as I serve His Holiness, and in turn, we both serve our Lord and Savior Sparda.” His teeth catch your earlobe with a sharp bite. “Everything we do is for his glory, don’t you agree?”

His hands knead your body, the sensations lulling you under a thick shroud of desire. The lips on your cheek and the hands that tease your breasts and the hard length that prods you through the fabric work together to have your head spinning, and the only thing you are aware of is the growing throb between your legs. Your head rolls to the side as you squirm a bit, rolling your hips to press to his, and Credo rewards you with a sharp slap across your breasts. “Answer.”

“Yes!” He mouths at your neck as his hands caress you, soothing the sting from his slap.

You rub your thighs together, your mind feeling dull and heavy. The Credo you’ve known, who you have been sleeping with for weeks, would never be so aggressive. He has always been a gentleman, sometimes fierce in his passion but always with his eyes and hands and mouth for you. But this one takes his pleasure as he wants, stroking you until you feel as though you’ll go mad. Your pelvis rocks against the edge of the desk, the friction you are craving dampened by the layers of fabric between your body and the hard surface. It only acts to tease you more as Credo humps against you.

You are debating asking for more when his hands finally move downwards. They slip into the dress that hangs on your hips, one reaching between your legs. He hisses when he cups your sex, his fingertips pushing easily inside the folds that are soaked from your arousal. You bite your lip and whimper, wanting nothing more than to spread your legs and rock against whatever part of him he wants to put between your thighs, but his solid form keeps you from moving any more than a little wiggle against him.

“So wet,” he sighs against your ear. Credo rubs slowly against your hood, and your mouth falls open, trying to tilt your hips up to give him more. “Will you obey me?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“Will you give yourself in service to our Savior?”

Your head drops forward. “Yes,” you groan.

Credo eases back, his hand still between your legs. “Take the rest off,” he says, sharp and direct.

His words are not to be questioned, not that that would even be possible now. Quickly you shimmy out of the rest of the dress, twisting your hips as you pull everything down your legs and step out, your body now completely bare. Credo cradles you against him, and you can feel the soft fabric of his shirt and the cold metal of the buttons and the slight scratch of his slacks. Having him still fully clothed while you are naked and trembling makes you all the more aware of how much you have given up at this moment. But how can you even begin to care, when all you want is release at his hand?

“Lean forward.”

You obey without question. Your palms lay flat against the wood surface as your breasts flatten beneath you. You keep your eyes ahead, wishing there was a mirror or something so you could see his expression. Is he pleased? You can hear him shift behind you and your eyes close briefly. When did you start to care so much? You have wanted Credo for months now and had him already a dozen times. Why is it different now?

He spreads your thighs and you groan when you feel the head of his cock slide along your folds. “Time for your penance,” Credo says with a growl.

“Please…”

“Do not come.”

“What?” you gasp, turning around.

His hand is firm as it pushes you forward, and when you are bent once more he wraps your hair slowly around his fist, pulling it tight. “You are here to please me, in order to please Sparda. So you will serve me, but you will not take pleasure from it. Serving me is your pleasure, do you understand?”

His cock dips in and out of your opening, teasing the nerve endings that are pulsing for more. The way you are angled, all you need to do is rock forward just an inch to find a bit of the surface to grind against. Just a tiny bit of friction from his cock and some pressure on your hood and you’ll be there, giving yourself over to ecstasy. But you nod, heat flaring along your neck and face. “Yes,” you moan.

Credo keeps a fierce grip on your hair as he enters you. He pulls the strands to tug your head back, the sharp twinge of your roots mixing with a twisting pleasure at being finally filled. Your body is so wet now that he has no trouble driving into you, and when his hips smack against your backside, your mouth falls open in a silent cry. How are you going to do this?

His free hand traces your hip, rubbing possessively. Pinned in place, trapped between his body and the desk and held at an angle by your hair, you can only wait as he slowly pumps his hips. “You feel so good,” he groans, and your breath falters at the tone in his voice. It is almost your undoing, your hands curling into tight fists when he groans again. “You are my reward for doing Sparda’s work.”

Grabbing your hip, Credo slowly moves. The drag of his cock is torture, every inch of him rubbing deliciously inside your tunnel. Unable to move, you tense as he works, trying to hold onto your last scraps of control. It’s almost enough, just a bit more and you’ll have the release your body cries out for. All he has to do is move just a bit faster to create more friction, or give your hair a bit of slack so you can angle your sex correctly against the wood, and you’ll be there.

But this is your penance, and he does none of those things. Instead he uses your body as he pleases, pumping with sharp, deliberate thrusts that have you nearly on tiptoes. His hands are tight and punishing as they hold you in place, and you have no choice but to take it and endure. Despite the lack of pressure on the right spots, you can feel an orgasm brewing, just beyond your reach; but if you focus on him and his body, how his breathing grows heavier as he fucks you, how he tasted in your mouth as he made you kneel, then maybe, just maybe…

His hand cracks against your backside. “Don’t come,” he says harshly. Credo leans over you, the fist in your hair pulling you back even farther as his chest presses to your back, his other hand pressing to the desk for leverage. He begins to thrust hard and fast, ravaging you with a savagery you would have never imagined him capable of; but you welcome it, crave it, and you match his groans with your own gasps, tilting your hips as best you can to let him delve deeper and deeper.

You hear him gasp, and the hand in your hair goes slack. Credo grips you by the neck, pulling your head up sharply as his mouth covers yours. Then he kisses you hotly as you feel him shake and his thick seed spilling inside your body. It makes the pumping of his cock slippery, your core on fire from need and sensitive to the new sensations.

As the last of his orgasm fills you, he pulls from the kiss. You are so close you can taste it, and when his mouth leaves yours you decide to beg for release, or perhaps just take it for yourself, damn the consequences. Surely this is just some byproduct of stress, and now that Credo has let off some steam he will reward you with the orgasm you so desperately need.

You open your eyes with his name on your lips, but gasp when you see something has changed. His eyes are no longer the light green, almost amber color you know well. Instead they burn with a bright red glow, and his lips curl back over teeth that look sharper, his face paler than normal. Credo pulls himself back, pushing you back down with a palm between your shoulder blades, and you cry out when he pulls out of you, leaving you trembling and aching on the desk. Shock has doused the urgency of your need, leaving you empty and overly sensitive, the sensation like a crawling on your skin as you feel his pleasure dripping on your thighs.

“You fulfilled your duty,” he says. His voice is cool and unimpressed, but you can hear a slight timbre to it that gives away how affected he truly is. You want to ask why he did that, what changed, why were his eyes red? But you lay against the wood, waiting for your legs to stop shaking, not trusting your voice just yet.

You watch as he takes his chair and begins cleaning up his documents. After a minute you feel well enough to speak, so you gather your courage as you tentatively push yourself to stand. “Credo?” you whisper.

He looks up, and you let go a sigh of relief to see that he looks like himself again. It must have just been your imagination, you decide, a side effect of the very intense intercourse after your argument. Credo smiles and holds out a hand. “My dear,” he says, pulling you towards him.

You swallow as you stand next to him. Credo turns to face you, and he looks up from his seat as his hands slide along your hips. “Did you learn something?” he asks.

Nodding, you try to find your voice. “I’m here to serve you, Sir,” you murmur.

He smiles, the first smile you’ve seen in weeks. “Good,” he replies before kissing your hand. “Service to me is service to His Holiness, and to Sparda. Remember that. Now,” he continues as you nod, “I’ve worked up an appetite.”

He pushes you back onto the desk, turning again in his chair so that he is between your legs. Credo lifts them wide and apart, and a moment later his mouth is on you, his tongue dipping inside your opening. You cry out and arch into him, your back bowing as you grip the edge of the desk. His mouth is hot and wet as it devours you, and in moments your legs are tensing and your body seems to snap as the coil inside you tightens painfully.

The pulsing starts almost immediately, contractions that start deep inside you, making your body nearly vibrate. His mouth continues its delicious assault, the bliss surging in waves that steal your breath away. Then Credo slides upwards to wrap his lips around your clit, and when he sucks gently your orgasm surges again, his mouth and tongue wicked and relentless until you are crying for him to stop.

He moves away, leaving you gasping for breath until he appears in your vision. “You are delicious,” he murmurs, and you feel his cock start to fill you again. You let go a wail as he starts to thrust, wondering how this is possible, how is he so hard again so soon?

Credo’s hands cover your chest, kneading your breasts again and pulling you back to the present. As your legs curl around him and he starts the powerful movements again, you close your eyes and turn your face away, afraid of seeing the red eyes and the savagery on his face. There are two versions of Credo now: the one that you had worked for, been falling in love with, the cool but kind knight of the Order, and this other that you now serve. He is almost… demonic, you think as your eyes fall on the forgotten meal, another orgasm building under his hands and mouth and body for your penance which will never be done.

[6v6taeminisloveshineeworld]

Homme Fatale -Dentist!Vampire!Taemin X Reader

homme fatale 

i. e. An undoubtedly seductive and dangerous man. One with a smile that would be too cruel not to kiss and a cherubic face with a temperament that’s anything but innocent. 

Summary: He was cloaked by the smell of death and wore it as armor. His life had little meaning, he pillaged through the world only to beguile and destroy as his veins hummed with bloodlust and selfish need. Nocturnal creatures should not be swayed by the beating hearts of the living but when Taemin catches a glimpse of you, a mortal in possession of a treacherous supernatural gift, he is faced with the temptation to claim you as his own. At his mercy, you discover a darkness in yourself that you’ve never dared to explore and you never imagined it could taste so sweet.

Genre: Smut, Romance, Dentist AU, Vampire AU, Supernatural, Horror, Lyric fic inspired by WANT MV and other Taemin song lyrics (easter eggs abound)

Rating: M for sexual content, death, and blood

Pairing: Taemin x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k+

You’d always had an unhealthy fascination with death. With autumn winds and the way the colors seemed even more vibrant just before everything fell and turned cold. When you were a child you’d been scared of the dark just like everyone else, until the day that same darkness befriended you. 

Your parents always said you’d had an overactive imagination growing up. That you’d kept invisible friends far longer than your classmates and that maybe this was due to the fact that they had never given you any siblings but they were wrong. Your friends were not imaginary, they were just unable to communicate with anyone else. 

It was on your tenth birthday that you first had a full conversation with a ghost. The little girl with blonde hair and green eyes was named Pomona and she seemed to like the same games and books you did. She loved building tree houses in the woods even though she couldn’t carry anything herself. She took sips of the green tea you served her by leaning into the cup with her tongue. 

Even though your visitor glided through walls with ease she was still able to keep down a meal. You’d laughed at her manners and held her hand. To your surprise, you felt the touch of her smooth skin as you never had been able to before. It was then that you knew you were truly different, you would never be able to unsee the spectors that appeared every day before you walking in the streets beside you. Not only was the veil lifted from your eyes unlike others around you but you seemed to be a part of their world as well and it had made Pomona’s departure from you as she ascended to join her family that much harder. 

When your parents had died in a car crash right on the outskirts of town you had thought that maybe this was why you’d been born with these gifts, that maybe your life of living like a pariah was all so that you could have this chance to communicate with your parents even in the afterlife. But there was no apparition. No voices that called for you from the curtain that separated the living from the dead.  And with that hope of communication gone you were left with a gaping hole inside of you but you continued on living in the world as invisibly as you could. It wasn’t hard to do in the small town of Ampleforth where everyone knew their neighbors but still kept to themselves and their clicks. The crowd around your age kept at a distance and the elders that passed you by in the grocery store looked at you with sympathy or rather through you at the poor orphan who never made friends easily. 

During your teenage years you’d had your share of otherworldly lovers. They came eagerly when you called to them while your parents refused to answer you from beyond. It didn’t matter how many candles you lit in your loneliness or how many beautiful fantoms kissed you with lips cold as hell. You never let them possess your soul. You never gave away the reigns of control to anyone.

That isn’t to say you hadn’t tried making living friends. However, most people in Ampleforth didn’t want to think about anywhere beyond Lastshire the next town over. You wanted to travel, you believed that to see the world was to live and you wanted to leave once you had enough money to do so. The townspeople were stuck in their roots and their old ways and even technology was a bit rustic. You often found yourself using the library wifi outside laying on the lawn with Emma, the only friend who really understood you even without knowing your secret in full beyond your morbid curiosities. And today, like any other Friday night was no exception. 

You looked away from your book to glance at her as she laughed aloud and continued to scan her phone. You bookmarked the page where Mr. Rochester disguised as a gypsy woman tells Jane her fortune for what must have been the tenth time you’ve read it over the years and move closer to Emma. 

“What are you reading?” You asked her curiously. “Fanfiction of course,” Emma said smiling. You joined her, reading along and smiling at the fact that someone was so comfortable around you even when you remained silent. 

The graveyard was especially chilly at sunset. You placed your freehand in your pocket to warm it and clutched the bag of glazed donuts and bouquet of white lilies to your chest with the other. Your parents graves resided on the grounds of St. Samael church, though the grounds hadn’t been tended in ages. After enemy troops from the Battle of Cymadd two-hundred years before took refuge in its walls it was seen as a sacrilege to worship here. Your mother and father however had lovely memories of picnics and stolen kisses on these grounds where no one would look for them and so when their will had stated that they were to be buried here in the desecrated church you hadn’t batted an eye though the tongues of Ampleforth had wagged.

You knelt before their graves and blew off the dried leaves. You divided the flowers evenly between them and placed a donut on each of the stones as you sat beside them and ate the rest. The anniversary of their death always washed you with a flood of anxiety. It was foolish to think that maybe on this day the abyss driven between you and them would be broken and they would appear before you. On the other hand you chided yourself for such selfish wishes. They were happy in their own paradise and only an ungrateful daughter would wish them to visit the earth once more, even if it was to say goodbye. 

The tears came then, unbidden. You lay on your back and shut your eyes. Shutting the pain away simultaneously for crying never could erase the scars.  At least here in the darkness you knew yourself even when your own thoughts were frightening and loud to your own ears. 

Your mind was filled with the epitaphs of the graves that stood tall here around you, phases passed your eyelids like shooting stars.

Life is but the whisper of death, in sleep we are merely participants of a new condition. 

To have loved and lost I know this, there is no greater torment than to love that which parishes.

Just as the last strokes of light were painting the sky you felt the cold hands of death embrace you at your shoulders. You opened your eyes quickly to find a young girl looking down at you in concern. Her wide blue eyes fringed by long lashes reminded you of a porcelain doll. The frigid bite of her fingers and her flawless features confirmed she was a ghost and one most likely buried here in St. Samael by the look of her outdated lilac petticoats. A giant bow rested at the back of her head, holding her raven hair away from her face as it cascaded over her shoulder. 

“I miss my parents too.” the girl said quietly.

“What’s your name? What’s keeping you from passing on and joining them.” You ask softly.

“My name is Callitae, and I stayed so that I could visit my father who still roams this earth visible to the living.”

“That’s not possible, if your father were still on earth he would be a ghost same as you.” You said in confusion.

“My father is very much dead but it is not his time to turn to dust either. However, the wheel of time seems to be running quickly for you, it comforts me to know that in your heart it is not death you fear but loneliness.” And with those bleak words she vanished into the mist of dusk.

You made your way along the path to your car, careful not to trip over rocks and the overgrowth of the untamed forest as all the while you felt the eyes of an unfamiliar presence upon you wolflike in its intensity. You moved a little faster and didn’t look back.

~ One Year Later ~

 Aldermire castle was at the very edge of Ampleforth, it was so named for its seemingly endless grounds of alder trees that swayed in honeyed light green shades against the sun. It was more of a manor than a castle but according to gossip that became legend, the man who once lived there with his wife and servants had the tastes and charisma of a king. He’d been a general during the battle of Cymadd with many honors to his name praising his valor and ferocity on the fields. This granted him favor in the eyes of many of the council but some were wary of him for he seemed to possess an almost inhuman tolerance for pain. 

He’d survived the torture masters of the enemy when he was captured and taken prisoner as none before him had. When he’d come back home to Aldermire and his wife he’d seemed like a living corpse. He recovered quickly under his wife’s care however, and by spring their first and last child was born for the mother died soon after. 

The master of Aldermire grew more reclusive in his grief and never took in visitors. He raised his daughter on his own but she was a delicate creature born before her time and prone to sickness easily. When she died of the plague that ravished Ampleforth faster than forest fire he lost the last anchor to life that he had and in his sorrow, it was said that he burned the castle locking himself inside as well. Even so, Aldermire was spared complete collapse as servants rushed to put out the flames but his body had never been found. 

As you drove past the alder trees and took in the overgrown vines that clung to the castle like the brambles of Thornfield Hall in Jane Eyre, a sense of excitement washed over you. You’d tried to catch glimpses of the castle before in your childhood but the forest had been so thick and the barbed wires attached to ‘no trespassing’ signs had looked so menacing you’d given up until that morning when Emma had called to say that “the creepy castle” you’d always wanted to explore as a child was now sold to the new dental surgeon in town who had renovated it as his clinic. 

It seemed the surgeon had appeared overnight, so quick were these renovations and appointments from patients in towns even farther than Lastshire but supposedly he’d been fixing the place a year in advance before ever stepping foot in Ampleforth. You supposed it was quite odd for a man of his profession to move so often but really what did you know of wealthy people and their judgment. 

The grounds were beautiful with crimson roses and golden apple trees. It was like something out of a fairytale when you pulled up at the driveway and walked up the stone path. You knocked on the heavy wooden door with its brass knocker, your heart racing all the while as you tidied your appearance and took in the words in bronze lettering in Latin above the door that read: VENI, VIDI, VICI. I came, I saw, I conquered.  An intriguing surgeon indeed.

A  middle-aged woman opened the door with a smile, her red heels and black mini skirt made you feel a bit self-conscious in your jean shorts and white blouse as you followed the sway of her hips inside. You noticed the white gauze bandage at her neck and wondered at if for a moment before turning your attention to the interior of Aldermire. 

 You were happy to see that though the new owner had renovated the castle for a clinic he seemed to want to keep the atmosphere of what the estate might have been like before. While some rooms had been entirely rebuilt to resemble a white-walled art studio, others seemed untouched by time and filled with bookshelves, upholstered chairs, and artwork against the old stone walls. 

You stopped in the hall to look at the paintings. All of them were memento mori’s displaying the reminder of mortality in its depictions of flower-filled vases, candles, fruits, and skulls. 

You peeked into room after room till you came to one with a small shooting range. The door was wide open as all the others had been. It seemed the owner loved showing his collections to the public though you felt that this room should surely be locked. Guns lined the far wall along with other combat gear. Well, at least the weapons seemed secure behind the glass cases. 

“The master of the house is an excellent hunter,” The receptionist said, turning to look at you. “I do believe it is one of his favorite hobbies.” You nodded, taking one last look at the room before continuing to follow her down the hall to yet another room with stark white walls.

“You may wait in this room,” the receptionist said with another bright smile as she motioned you forward into what looked like a surgical lounge chair with mirrors facing you on all sides. Before you could protest that you weren't planning on having any teeth extracted she was out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

The room was far too cold. You shiver under the thin material of your blouse as you take in the smell of cleaning chemicals and fruity furniture spray. Your spine tingles at the waft of air that assaults you from the vent above your head, the metal chair you are seated in presses against the back of your thighs like ice. 

 Along the walls of the room were bookcases, carefully filed papers, a small world globe, and to your trepidation an entire metal table covered in a white cloth that was filled with instruments. Some of which you wondered if they really were for teeth or something else entirely. Your stomach twisted with apprehension as you took in the empty syringes but before you could make your way to the door you heard footsteps approaching and you quickly sat down again.  

The door rattled open and you shifted your attention to the man who walked in. To your amazement, he was younger than you imagined. He in his mid-twenties maybe. He was very attractive which was not to be taken lightly in your mind for you had seen a great deal of beautiful spirits and judging by the way he held himself with such confidence in his stride he full well knew it too. 

If you’d seen him anywhere else you would imagine he was a model or singer instead of a dental surgeon. He was dressed in the most strikingly bright red suit you had ever seen and his blond hair was combed back revealing his forehead in a contradictingly neat but disheveled manner as if he had just run his hand through it before walking in.

 “Hello, are you Dr. Lee?” You said. 

His smile was bright enough to be plastered on every teeth-whitening poster in the lobby. “Please call me Taemin,” he said with a pronounced accent. You remember reading that he had transferred ownership of his successful clinic in South Korea to travel abroad setting up clinics from state to state and renting out large houses. Again you wondered why a surgeon as successful as he would travel so much. But then maybe he just liked the change of scenery. Certainly if you had the opportunity to see the world you would take it. Your brain was trying to piece the whole thing together rationally but under his very direct gaze, you felt exposed and flustered as you never had before. 

“What is your name?” He asked as he went to a drawer at the side of the chair and pulled out a white apron that fastened at the hips. His leg brushed yours as he closed the drawer and you shifted in your seat. His proximity making you nervous and excited even. The way his familiar blue eyes seemed to pierce you as he asked such an ordinary question made you wonder if what he really asked for was so much more. Where had you seen eyes like his before? You felt a bit lightheaded the more you tried to remember. 

At this moment you believed that if this total stranger asked anything of you, you’d give in without hesitation. There was something captivating about his aura, possessive even. For the first time in your life, you found yourself enjoying the feeling of being so inexorably won over, it was more than a little intoxicating. 

You mumbled your name aloud, thankful that your voice didn’t shake.

Taemin proceeded to put on elbow-length black gloves made of soft glittering velvet. Definitely not something anyone would want to use on a patient, you thought. They were more fit for a goth cinderella at a Halloween mask ball than anything else. This image would have made you laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked so damn sexy putting them on. He held one of the gloves between his teeth as he pulled the fabric slowly up his arm.

When he finished he came so close to your ear you could smell his cologne full of spice and gardenias as he whispered, “I think you know I’m not the kind of dentist you’re used to” his hot breath against your earlobe and his words made your heart race and your legs squeeze together. Your curiosity overriding your fear as you answered,

 “I’m more than okay with that.”

He pulled back and smiled warmly, seemingly satisfied by this answer. He brought his gloved fingertip to your collarbone and moved his hand slowly till his fingers clasped your chin pulling it up to look at him. His eyes changed from blue to crimson and before you could fully process the fact that yet another one of your lovers was undoubtedly inhuman, his plump lips were at your neck kissing a trail down your chest as he effortlessly unbuttoned your blouse and unpinned your bra, throwing each to the floor. 

Your entire body was on fire now and he hadn’t even begun. You felt your body arch into his kisses on your skin and you gasped as you looked down to see him unzipping your jeans with his teeth. He pulled the material past your ankles and tossed them aside as well.

His gloved hands spread your knees apart as if you were a book he so desperately wanted to read. His lips moved to the inside of your thighs, nipping at your skin lightly as he went and purposely skipping over where you craved him the most. It was torturous till he blew on your already embarrassingly wet underwear, sending a shiver through you. 

“You have no self-control,” He said with amusement. “We can change that,” he lifted your hips and removed the last article of clothing before kneeling before you. And then he was painting butterflies against you with every skillful stroke of his tongue. Your small whimpers escalated to moans as you disheveled his hair further. 

“You want it more, don’t you?” Taemin said, pulling away and licking his lips. “And you’ll always be left wanting more, thirsting for more of me.”

“Yes, I do want you,” you said boldly surprised by your own shameless actions as you pulled him closer. 

  “My patients are usually so boring,” he said with a devilish laugh. Handsome devil. You thought as he continued. “Usually a syringe of blood is all I take and I tidy their minds so that they forget any unpleasant feelings but with you, no. Compulsion is not necessary, I want you to savor every moment till you fall for me without limit, beyond all instinct or reasoning just as I have fallen for you.”

 He moves to your neck again and this time you could feel sharp teeth graze your skin. He gripped your shoulders before piercing your flesh with his fangs. Your initial gasp of pain soon turns to pleasure as he drinks heavily from you. In a world overrun by ghosts why did the existence of vampires surprise you? You gazed into the mirrors that surrounded you and watched as blood trickled across your skin. Taemin’s reflection was nowhere to be seen, light seeped through him as if he wasn’t there at all.  An airy groan escapes you again when he pulls your hair back to allow better access to your neck. 

You move from the chair to stand and raise one leg to his hip. He loosens his grip on your hair then, taking you by the waist and lifting you effortlessly,  mounting you against him. “What sweet forbidden fruit you are.” He says as he licks the droplets of blood left on your neck and circles the two small punctures with his tongue so harshly you’re sure it will bruise. 

“I’m all you will see now, I’m your new world,” Taemin said before sealing that promise with a kiss. His lips claim yours hungrily and you responded just as fiercely, your tongue probing his in a battle for dominance as you moved against him. The taste of him and the mingling coppery trace of your blood made you realize you’d been starving and only he could satiate you now.

He carried you across the room, opening a door in the back that led to what must have been his bedroom. He gently set you on the floor and you took in the room. It was dimly lit with beautiful candelabras, an armour, and several paintings. The bed with its intricately carved mahogany headboard and satin white sheets was at the center. 

“Get on the bed, love.” He says as he moves towards the corner of the room.

You do so nervously, laying back against the pillows and watching Taemin open a cage. Your eyes widen as black snakes slither free. They seemed to stop and look to him for guidance and Taemin looked them in the eye and said, “be gentle with our new pet.” 

Your heart beats wildly as the snakes come toward you but you dare not move. This was some sort of test you knew and even though a small part of you wanted to bolt, a larger, more insistent thrum of curiosity and anticipation overwhelmed you. The snakes were each quite beautiful in the way that some lovely things are terrifying. Their glossy scales shone under the candlelight as two furled around your ankles and two more held your wrists bound against the bedposts. They were long enough that their bodies circled the posts several times. Their pink forked-tongues seemed to taunt you as they watched you squirm. Another glided up your stomach and between your breasts only to coil itself around your neck and fall asleep against the warmth of your skin. 

“You are a prisoner to it all now, my love,” Taemin said as he removed his right glove with his teeth and slipped two fingers inside you. You engulfed him greedily, blissfully surrendering to the slow movements of his fingers and the way you lost control of your hips as you writhed against your restraints. “You’re a prisoner to this heat, to my touch, and to my voice.” He said in a singsong that encompassed your senses. 

“I’ll tease you slowly,” Taemin said as his gloved hand rubbed circles against you, the velvety fabric sending shockwaves coursing through your body to the tips of your toes as they curled. “-Until the only name you taste against that pretty little mouth of yours is mine.” Your shuddering climax is met with erratic breaths as you will yourself not to beg for more. Here you were bare and shaking sweatily before him as he stood, still fully clothed and collected looking down on you with that deceitfully cherubic face. It sent daggers to your pride and yet how willingly you accepted your fate. 

Sensing your thoughts he began to undress as calmly and languorously as he did everything else. He seemed to take delight in the show he was putting on for you. His eyes glowed with mischief as he undid the last button of his suit and you found yourself unable to look away. He was muscular yet grace filled his form. He was a walking paradox, lithe and powerful all at once.

“My very existence is a sin,” Taemin said as he climbed onto the bed. “An unholy predator whose thirst will never be satisfied. And you love, are my prey.” 

He kissed you again and suddenly you found that the world was no longer monochrome but dripping with color. You felt alive as you never had before. The grey world died as his naked body danced with your naked soul and you felt as if you were drenched in light. Vulnerable yet safe, adrift in a pure deep sea. You wanted to drown in this time with him, you crashed into one another as waves on a moon-white shore. 

You want to trace the valley of his arms, you want to touch him though you can’t reach him. That is when you feel the snakes release you. You embrace him fully and in this moment, words aren’t necessary. 

You surfaced breathless and entranced as you took in his eyes again, they melted into deep blue once more. Your hearts beat to the same rhythm as Taemin moved to lay beside you. It was at that moment as he held you in his arms that your memory resurfaced, his eyes were the same as the raven-haired girl’s in the graveyard you’d seen a year before. She had her father’s eyes you realized.

He seemed to read the question in your eyes for he said, “Yes, Callie is my daughter. She was born here and she died here within these walls just as her mother did. It was my fault she died.” He said, shaking his head. “My wife couldn't bear to see me suffer, when the enemy commander turned me into a monster I turned against them and after that massacre I refused to follow my new instincts and feed. I was stubborn and prideful and when I came back to her arms I was weak. She gave me her blood without care for herself and like a beast, I drained her slowly and gave in to what we wanted most: a child. She couldn’t have known how baring a Child of Night would cause her to suffer but I should have known better. If I hadn’t weakened her so, if-”

“Shhh,” You drew your fingers to his lips to silence him and pulled him to your breast, wrapping your arms around him firmly. “She loved you and she did what she wanted to do for you and for her beautiful daughter. I know that she wouldn’t have wanted anything more than to have her no matter the consequence.” 

He took your wrist and brought it to his lips, then he traced your blue veins with the pad of his thumb before he said, “I knew from the moment I beheld you laying in the graveyard under that brilliant amber sunset that your soul was seeking mine. I pursued you shamelessly afterward as if you were tethered to me and I couldn’t let you go. You haunted my thoughts and made me care as I never thought I could again. It is a lie that the Children of Night are soulless and heartless, ours are bound to this earth as much as any mortal and they burn just as brightly.”

You entwined your fingers with his. 

“In your eyes I saw that we both shared the same spirit.” Taemin said brushing a kiss to your forehead. “We both fear being trapped but most of all we fear the way we isolate ourselves, there is no life, no death for us but rather a long and lonely road filled with people who see straight through us.”

“I know what you mean,” You said. “We are alone in ways no one else can begin to understand and yet I want to know you better than I know myself.”

“I never want to lose the one I love ever again,” Taemin said earnestly, he took your hands in his and squeezed them. “Would you spend forever with me till the earth itself crumbles with the weight of falling stars? Would you give me your soul to hold as my equal? All that I ask of you is to love me, respect me, obey me and I will be your slave for all of eternity.” 

“Then I am yours completely, in heart, body, and soul, I am yours just as you are mine.” You said. 

“It won't be painless,” He said with worry written in his eyes.

“Death is earned is it not?” You said, looking at him confidently. “I trust you.” You said more quietly.

“You scare me a great deal.” He said. You laughed at that, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because you make me want to be a better man. My love, I am no angel. I am devious.” He ran his free palm against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “My hands are stained from murder, and yet you trust them completely. I am selfish to want you and cruel to take you into darkness with me. I am a demanding creature but I am your servant.”

He took off one of his rings and slipped it onto your finger. It was gold inlaid with sapphire jewels the color of his eyes in the shape of a laurel crest. “This will protect you from the sunlight once the transition is completed.” Taemin said, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and over the ring. “Never take it off, promise me.” 

“I promise.”

He brought his right hand to his mouth, his fangs elongated once more as they had when he’d feed on you and in one swift motion he pierced his wrist. His deep purple-red blood spilled like wine across the sheets. He took the blood into his mouth before bringing his lips to yours. 

His blood scorched the walls of your throat and trickled at the corner of your mouth. It singed the skin of your heart till you felt so full of him that you didn’t know whose body belonged to whom anymore. It was a dizzying kind of love, hypnotic and consuming in its luster. Sometimes love is sweet, You thought. You were drunk on this emotion and the taste of him. He was under your skin, he was flowing through your veins.

He licked the blood that had dripped at the corner of your mouth clean and pulled away to look at you. “Until we meet again, love.” Taemin said, before placing a satin covered pillow over your face.

Sometimes love is brutally soft. You thought as you lost consciousness. 

~ Epilogue ~

His scent tickles your nose and calls your limbs to arise from the ashes of your former self. 

“Welcome to hell my queen.” 

The voice in the darkness was sweet to hear. Your eyes open, light purple and full of lethal newborn lust for the blood of your sire, your soulmate, your king who smiles above you.

The impulse to feed is like a maelstrom consuming your senses. All you want is him, his blood, and his body against yours. He lays on the bed beside you and tilts his head in invitation. 

You crawl towards him, straddling his hips and piercing your fangs to his throat eagerly. You nibble and mewl against his collarbone when his skin does not break beneath you. He laughs at your frustration and gently strokes your hair. He reaches for your chin, lifting it to eye level and brushing the pad of his fingers against your small fangs till the tiniest drops of blood fall and you lick his fingers clean. 

“You're like a newborn kitten,” Taemin says in your mind. His voice inside your head sends a ripple of joy through your body. You'd thought you’d learned what true unity felt like but you’d never experienced this, an all-consuming warmth and wholeness. “Try again innocent one, this time tilt your head upwards as you elongate your fangs.” 

Your desire to please him was almost as vigorous as your hunger. You moved to his neck again and did as he instructed. 

“That’s my kitten,” he said. You beam under his praise as you quench your thirst. You find it’s not enough and you move to his lips instead. You kissed him like nightfall devouring the sun, an eclipse under a diamond sky. You were dangerous now you thought with glee as Taemin pulled you closer, closer towards the whisper of forever. And then you smiled when he said in your mind, When we align, will you or I be the moon? You bit his bottom lip and tugged it playfully in reply. 

[ancano]

YoI Fanfic Recs

Okay so I just wanna share some love and show y’all some amazing fanfics that I have personally read and absolutely adored!! You’ll likely see repeated authors, either cuz I follow them on tumblr or cuz I’ll raid their uploads once I find one I really like. Also apparently I read a lot of A/B/O so if that isn’t your thing sorry hhhhhh

No particular order for these, just going down my bookmarks and history lists on ao3

Glitter & Gold by plisetskytrash and victurius (I just caught up with this one and oh my god I love it.) Summary - In a world where drugs, sex, and violence rule, Viktor Nikiforov is the king. As the Pakhan of the Russian Mafia (the Bratva) he is responsible for murder and mayhem across multiple continents and that’s just the way he likes it. The only problem is that a new leader has risen to power in America – known only as ‘JJ’ – and he starts to intrude on Viktor’s territory.Not only is that rude, it’s damn right unacceptable.So, Viktor sets out to find out as much about JJ as he can, including infiltrating the businesses he owns, such as The Kiss and Cry, a sleazy club that works as a front for an exclusive exotic omega strip club that only the richest and most powerful men can access. Naturally, Viktor has no trouble getting inside. Once he’s there, however, his plans are thrown out of the window when he spots a beautiful, young Japanese omega with chocolate-brown eyes and an ass to die for. There’s only one problem: Viktor swore he’d never mate an omega.Will Viktor manage to stay focused on his mission? Or will this omega break Viktor’s most important rule?

Eros and Agape by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl and Spunky0ne (you’ll see a couple works from these guys in this list because they are *chef’s kiss* amazing) Summary - For as long as Victor can remember, Yakov and Lilia have protected him from being discovered to be an Omega by helping him to project as an Alpha. But at the Grand Prix Final banquet, he comes face to face with the man destined to be his husband.

NEXT LEVEL: Nights After Dreams by RipVanGabriel (this is a LONG one, I haven’t even gotten very far in it, but trust me it’s worth it) Summary -  The silver medal was hard fought and won, but now the stakes are higher than ever. Five gold medals loom on the horizon, but more importantly, the "life and love" within the gold rings. Yuri and Viktor's relationship grows as they get back on the competition road, and new complications rise with them. (Proper follow-up to the TV series; not AU, no crack ships, no weird shit.)

Wait! But, I’m not Yakuza! by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, SesshomaruFreak, and Spunky0ne (like I said, these guys, *chef’s kiss* I refuse to admit how many times I’ve reread the 2 chapters that are currently posted. I’m also the only person commenting on it last i checked which is a fucking shame, so y’all go comment on this amazing fic pls) Summary - The Katsuki family, except for the Hasetsu Katsukis, are the largest and most powerful Yakuza family in Japan, so it’s not surprising that poor Yuuri keeps getting mistaken for one of his distant relatives. On a trip to Russia with his father, Yuuri stumbles into a bar to avoid a group of rough looking punks, and he comes face to face with a beautiful, silver-haired exotic dancer. Things get crazy when Yuuri sees the lovely dancer being abused and steps in, only to get himself beaten into unconsciousness. He wakes in his hotel room and finds a note next to his bed…”Thank you for your kindness. I’m sorry those ruffians hurt you. It’s better you stay away. I don’t want anything else bad to happen to you. Vitya” He should go home. He should just forget the man, but Yuuri can’t help himself…Victuuri, intersex Victor, intersex pregnancy, lots of flustered Yuuri!

Love’s Requiem by Kashoku (gonna be honest, I don’t even ship Yuuri/Yuri, but I enjoy this fic) Summary -  If you had asked Yuuri in Barcelona if there was anything that could ever bring him down from the high of being with Viktor Nikiforov, he would have laughed. But when the living legend suffers a career ending injury, it brings new struggles to their relationship. Viktor begins to drown his sorrows, and Yuuri finds himself being pulled beneath the surface in a way he’s not sure he can survive.

you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be by roserelease (this shit right here is my fucking bread and butter y’all. I can’t even express how much happiness and love this fic gives me) Summary - More than anything, Yuuri wants to impress his cosplay role model Viktor Nikiforov. But after a horrible start to a convention weekend, he panics and backs out at the last second to meet his idol. Normally this would be fine, except Yuuri discovers too late that there's a little Viktor related secret inside the con vlog his best friend filmed over the course of the weekend for him...It's fine, he thinks. Embarrassing, but not the end of the world. And it's not like Viktor himself will ever see the con vlog, so why worry?(Except then Viktor does.)

Paying For Poison by SaerenDPity (another one of my absolute faves that sadly only updates once every other blue moon but when it does update I feel overwhelmingly Blessed) Summary - "Skater Katsuki?" Yuuri's eyes widened as he nodded, and suddenly Viktor Nikiforov was clutching at his coat. He barely registered that his childhood hero knew his name, he couldn't think on that when Viktor's voice was on the edge of breaking. Desperation lined his every movement."Yes th-that's me. Um… Mr. Nikiforov… Do… do you need help?"Viktor shook his head violently and shoved his hand into Yuuri's pocket. Yuuri only had time to squeak before Viktor was backing away, breathing heavily. "Please… please buy me."…Years after Viktor Nikiforov suddenly disappeared from the public eye, he resurfaces at the Rostelecom Cup, desperate for help. And Yuuri simply cannot abandon the man who inspired almost every aspect of his life, and so, he makes the decision to do just as Viktor asks - buy his services as an omega for one night.

Drowning In Your Love by MysticLipstick (another rarely updated fic that I’m head over heels for. please feed me, I need MORE) Summary -  Victor Nikiforov has always gotten away with being a whore in college. Being the top athlete swimmer has gained him tons of attention, championships and girls. However, a cosmic encounter with Yuuri Katsuki has him questioning everything—including his sexuality. Yuuri’s shy nature and blatant disregard for Victor’s fame has Victor chasing him—something he’s never done, but Yuuri shuts him down. Completely.

November’s Secret by LanaBerry (I’ve reread this one about 5 times already tbh) Summary - Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it's you, then it's less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.But it works a little too well.Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he's been loosely basing his new persona on for years.

The ‘Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches’ series by Reiya (recently finished rereading this one, always so fucking good) Summary - ‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’ A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

With What We Once Had by MagicalMirai (this one is just too cute tbh) Summary -  They called it quits, over a year and a half ago. But even though he should have been expecting it, Yuuri can’t help but feel suffocated when he bumps into Victor at the Grand Prix final, whilst holding his son. The son... he never told Victor about.

Nerve Endings by Phyona (this one is next on the “to reread” list) Summary -  When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri's anxiety and Victor's secrets to find their balance.

Puppy Love by Phyona (another phyona fic and it’s just way too fucking cute tbh) Summary - When Yuuri gets turned into a dog, the last place he expects to end up is Victor Nikiforov's apartment. He learns quickly that the only thing worse than being his idol's pet, is watching him pine for someone else.Warning: Makkachin has recently passed away at the start of this story.

The Stars on his Cheeks by QueenWinterofLuna (this one was actually written for a prompt I personally requested and I absolutely adore it, even still) Summary -  A short drabble based on this Tumblr request from @napsushi: Can you write a fic where Yuuri discovers Victor has freckles and is just over the moon about it? This fandom needs more freckled Vitya.

This is all I can find and think of for now but if I remember more I’ll be sure to update it!!

[seyenna-stuff]

dadzawa fic rec

this one goes out to @hey-hamlet and everyone else who needs some dadzawa fluff and hurt/comfort

these are in no particular order

they’re all relativly short (<20k Words) and completed or one-shot collections

this is also in no way a complete list (i have waaaaay to many dadzawa fics in my bookmarks)  

enjoy!

Summary: He was supposed to stop worrying about them after graduation, dammit.

Not My Concern by RandmWriter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051872

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, Future Fic

Words: 2,101

Summary: In which Aizawa teaches his class the technicalities of being a pro-hero in a relationship.

About Someone To Come Home To by A_Reflective_Projection

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291785

Or

The classes loses it when the find out their teacher is married.

Important Tags: EraserMic, An Actual Lesson

Words: 1,641

Summary: Shouta never wanted to be a teacher. But now he lived his life grading tests late into the night, drawing up lesson plans and doing his goddamn best to nurture the next generation of heroes.

Parental Guidance is Advised by Taghashromer

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18428837

He never wanted to be a parent either. But now he was standing in the 'baby needs' aisle of their local supermarket, glaring down a shelf of... 'baby needs'.

He was beginning to see a pattern here.

Important Tags: Aizawa & Eri

Words: 5,763

Summary: When Midoriya asked Aizawa to teach him how to fight without a quirk, he had begrudgingly agreed.

A Different Kind of Lesson by Amandyalmonds

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309650

And it went about as well as he could expect.

Which is to say the entire class ended up involved, and somehow Midoriya kept getting injured.

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A

Words: 2,005

Summary: Aizawa Shota was not the father of his students.

Open Your Eyes A Little Wider, Speak Your Mind A Little Louder by TheStarvingWriter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159146/chapters/42943094

Really. He wasn't.

He just cared about them like one.

or

Five Times Aizawa Took Care of His Students (And One Time They Took Care of Him)

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, Referenced Child Abuse, One-Shot Collection

Words: 9,600

Summary: Aizawa could tolerate the hero worship, as long as none of them attempted to hug him.

Aizawa Doesn't Give Hugs by TheMockingJ3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283352/chapters/30396294

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, One-Shot Collection

Words: 7,174

Summary: Connected stories over one of our favorite dads, Aizawa Shouta, where he is punished (blessed) with 20+ children and a loud husband.

Parenthood is determined by love, not blood by Yorokobi_669

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564784

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A

Words: 15,489

Summary: 'It was, arguably, UA’s best kept secret, and for obvious reasons, too. Hazashi was one of the most famous heroes; between his radio show, teacher job and flashy quirk, there was no way he was going unnoticed. Tabloid magazines simple adored Hizashi, he had a winning smile, and was always willing to give a cheery quip to any reporter. His fame was brilliant, Aizawa mused, it meant Hizashi got the attention he liked, he could pursue all the passions he adored, and the money was good, too. The one downfall was that, under no circumstance, could the public find out about their relationship.'

Best [Worst] Kept Secret by updowndowntown

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468198

Aizawa has to keep his marital status a secret, but class 2A are the most inquisitive class to date, and some secrets were just made to be broken.

Important Tags: EraserMic, KiriBaku

Words: 1,593

A Quiet Step by Amandyalmonds

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767721

Or,

Summary: It started with Midoriya—of course it did—when Aizawa caught him throwing glances at Todoroki.

He would have chalked it up to young love, or something like that, until he noticed a pattern.

Something was wrong.

Todoroki deals with his home life however he can, and Aizawa notices the warning signs.

Important Tags: Aizawa & Todoroki Shouto, Referenced Child Abuse

Words: 2,025

Summary: A simple injury leads Aizawa to learn about Izuku's struggles.

Fine Again by alightintheshadows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253030

Important Tags: Aizawa & Midoriya Izuku, Referenced Self-Harm

Words: 3,022

Summary: A oneshot series about the students of UA actually being kids.

Heroes in Training are Kids, Too by rest_in_rip

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423710

Important Tags: One-Shot Collection

Words: 5,693

Summary: A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Not in the Job Description by IidaRei98

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16367969

Written by Iidarei98, beta'ed by Purplemalemute

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, One-Shot Collection

Words: 201,662

Summary: Aizawa lives in the bad part of the city and so he keeps his door locked at all times. One night someone comes asking for help and he lets them in, just to find himself with a villain as a houseguest. Dabi is in a rough spot however and eventually the two settle on a truce until the storm passes.

Lost Kittens in the Rain by DomineeringScarves

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324081

Aka the one shot where Dabi saves a cat and gets a lecture and the similarities between him and Shouto are way too many and Aizawa needs ALL the cats.

Important Tags: Aizawa & Dabi, Panic Attack

Words: 6,178

Summary: 5 times someone called Aizawa dad, and that 1 time that he accepted his fate.

Dadzawa by AyzuLK

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692610

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, Aizawa & Eri, One-Shot Collection

Words: 1,097

Summary: Moving into the dorms, the students get to witness a side of their teacher they didn’t even know had existed--a side much softer, and, dare they say, human, than any of them had ever expected to see.

Surprises by MikeWritesThings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668393

(Or, 5 things class 1-A never expected from Aizawa, and 1 thing he never expected from them.)

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, One-Shot Collection

Words: 21,184

Summary: They say it takes a village to raise a child. The whole of class 1-A is just going to have to settle for Yagi and Aizawa.

Ne Plus Ultra by ItsClydeBitches

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163142

(A drabble collection focusing on the in-between moments of BNHA)

Important Tags: Aizawa & Class 1-A, Dadzawa, Dad Might, One-Shot Collection

Words: 113,418

Summary: Aizawa doesn't know how to be a parent.

A Learning Experience by Sinclaironfire

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568947

Eri doesn't know how to be a kid.

Together, they're learning how to make it work.

Important Tags: Aizawa & Eri

Words: 1,603

Summary: For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

I Consider Myself Lucky by alightintheshadows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231966

Important Tags: Dadzawa, Dad Might, Midoriya Izuku

Words: 1,954

Summary: “Today was not a good day.” Thinks Izuku as he climbs the last of the stairs to reach the roof of the 1A dorm. The roof access stairs are the only part of the dorms that don’t look perfect, the concrete was never covered with flooring with dust spinning in swirling eddies as he takes each step. He holds back a sneeze and carefully opens the door. Best not make a noise and raise questions.

rooftop dreamer by heyhamlet

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837828

(Izuku has a bad day and Aizawa is a good dad)

Important Tags: Aizawa & Midoriya Izuku, Suicidal Thoughts

Words: 722

Summary: “I guess,” Midoriya sighs. “But then – some of the pro heroes are our teachers, you know? And still, it’s not like any of them are... I mean, it’s certainly not a common occurrence for a hero to be... out.”

On Secret Relationships And The Importance Of Representation Among Pro Heroes by smol_bird

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17905568

Out? Aizawa thinks. He begins to suspect that he knows what this conversation is about.

Important Tags: EraserMic

Words: 3,086

[kitkatwinchester]

Okay! So!  SOMEHOW, I have had yet to share the links to my favorite fics that I bookmarked from the Irondad Big Bang, and that is a CRIME, because the work that these authors and artists put in and the way they came out is BEAUTIFUL!!! Plus, it breaks my rule of “share any story you bookmark��. So! I’m gonna fix that. 

That said, I want all of them to get credit, so I’m going to put all of them on one post so that stories don’t get overshadowed by the most recent post or anything, because they ALL deserve ALL of the credit, because these stories are AMAZING!!! 

To avoid this post being too long, I’m not gonna put warnings or anything, just the summaries and number of chapters, so make sure you read any and all tags before you actually start the stories, just in case! :) 

These aren’t ranked or anything. I’m just putting them in alphabetical order. :)

P.S. All artists are credited in the stories--they deserve recognition too, because their art work is beautiful, so make sure you check them out with the links provided!! :D <3  

Come, My Darling, Homeward Bound by @i-am-irondad Chapters Posted: 7/9 Updates: Sunday and Thursday 

Peter and Morgan have been imprisoned in an eleven-by-eleven foot shed, for almost five years. Morgan celebrates her sixth birthday, still under the naive impression that the shed, is the only place that exists. Peter is weighed down by his guilt of allowing her to live a lie.Set after Homecoming (Not an Infinity War or Endgame Compliant)

Friendly Fire by @jolinarjackson Chapters Posted: 9/12

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

Great Power, Greater Responsibility by @starjargon Chapters Posted: 15/16

King Anthony Stark isn’t a proponent of the debt-slave laws, but he’s not exactly opposed either. However, when he acquires a boy who needs his protection, he suddenly finds a reason to take a stand. And for the first time in his life, to care about someone else.

Ohana by @jen27ny Chapters Posted: 7/8 Updates: Sundays and Wednesdays

“HYDRA?” (The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a chill runs down his back. He dismisses it, thinking it’s because of the cold metal bedframe.) “Yes, HYDRA. Our home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Tony recruited Spider-Man during the debacle of the Sokovia Accords, he never thought it would lead to anything else but a mentorship; giving the boy a suit and a few pointers here and there. He never dreamt that Peter would charm his way into Tony’s life, claiming a spot right next to Morgan. For a while, it looked like the universe finally gave Tony a break.

Until Spider-Man suddenly disappears.

For two years, Tony doesn’t stop looking for him, doing everything in his power to bring the boy back. But to no avail. It’s like the earth opened up and swallowed him, leaving behind nothing but a Peter-shaped hole in Tony’s heart.

Then, during one mission, they meet a HYDRA agent who can stick to walls and has a very familiar face.

once upon a Reality by @the-reverse-mermaid​ Chapters Posted: 4/4

A supernatural stranger appears in Tony’s house to make him a deal: Peter has been taken, but if Tony can locate him in each of a series of fiction-based alternate universes, they can have each other back.

Along the way, they work a couple things out.

(Crack taken seriously, pretty much; based around the children’s story, “The Runaway Bunny”, featuring 6 different AUs)

no matter what (you keep finding something to fight for) by @rejectedmarvel​​ Chapters Posted: 3/24 Updates: Wednesdays and Fridays

Since the apocalypse graced the world, Tony Stark was no stranger to pain it unleashed. It was a second skin at this point, a looming presence weighing him down as he tries to make his way through a world gone mad. Tony likes being alone, not being too close to anyone. He can’t lose anyone else, never again.

But in this new world, the universe seems to keep sending people his way. Now, stumbling into the care of a wise-ass kid with Bambi eyes and a messy mop of brown curls, Tony is thrust into a new side of the apocalypse. Now on the race to a possible cure and the bubbling friendship with this kid, Tony may just have to face his many demons to make it out this journey alive.

Or

~ The Last of Us AU ~

North Star by @unfathomable-universe​ Chapters Posted: 5/13  Updates: Mondays and Thursdays 

They came in the middle of the night.

The signs were all there. His mother sewing their valuables into the lining of their coats. Photos and papers being burned in the fireplace. His father not returning from work that evening. Later, Peter would realize that the signs were there. Later, Peter realized his parents intended they escape.

They did not escape. They were arrested.

---------------------------------

An Irondad au of the book Between Shades of Grey by Ruta Sepeteys

The Lightning Strike by @booksxtvxsupernatural​​ Chapters Posted: 1/1

The day Thanos snapped his fingers, Peter was far, far away, surrounded by strangers, and with no hope of getting home. He could do nothing as the last infinity stone slid into place on a gauntlet covered hand, and could do nothing as Thanos disappeared from the face of the Earth.

He could do nothing as one by one, the heroes fell around him. He could do nothing as Tony Stark fell to his knees and crumbled before his eyes, cradling Peter's head in his hands.

No, Peter could not do anything then. But he could do something now. And maybe that would be enough. To bring everyone back, to save his aunt and friends and hero, he would stop at nothing. Time and space be damned.

This time, he would be right here, and he would fight to the bloody end before he let the universe take anything else from him.

That would have to be enough.

Let me just say: my comments on these people’s stories are...LONG as ALL HECK, because there are MANY EMOTIONS that come with these stories. I have to warn you of that now. For most of them, you’ll definitely want a box of tissues. 

Thank you to these amazing writers and artists for contributing to the Big Bang! I’m really lucky to have been able to read your stories, and for those that are unfinished, I’m so excited to see how your stories continue and eventually finish off!! You’re all amazing and I love you all!! <3 <3 

[calamity-bean]

Aziraphale/Crowley Fic Recs

AKA “There is SO much Good Omens fic nowadays, with more being added at SUCH an incredible rate, that I keep forgetting to bookmark things and thus completely lose track of what I’ve read and what I liked and which ones to watch for updates and which ones I might want to read again and etc etc. So, for the sake of my own sanity, I have made A List.”

And I thought, hey, might as well share.

I’ve divided this list into WIPs and Complete Works, but otherwise, it’s a jumble: canon-verse and AUs, short and long, ranging in rating from G to E and incorporating various tropes and headcanons. I tend to gravitate toward happy endings, so there’s probably nothing too dark or soul-crushing, but as always, buyer beware, pay attention to tags and content warnings and your own personal tastes. Works are listed in chronological order of first publishing, simply as a neutral and objective way to list them, and more will be added intermittently as I read new ones or rediscover ones I forgot.

Hope this helps someone find some good reading and directs more attention to some well-deserving work!

-- WIPs --

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (June 15, 2019)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles.

Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning.

Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5.

Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water.

Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Show Me a Great Plan by WriteDreamLie (June 17, 2019)

A.J. Crowley is an eccentric "business man." A.Z. Fell is a bookseller who refuses to sell any books.

After Fell (unwillingly) helps Crowley out of a sticky situation, the two become oddly fixed on each other. And their relationship could just be the thing that saves them both.

icing on the cake by Etheostoma (June 18, 2019)

Between the black attire, swaying hips, slouching pose, and affected “devil-may-care” attitude that actually belied an incredibly sensitive nature, A.J. Crowley was a walking puzzle—and one that Aziraphale, when he allowed his thoughts free rein, wanted desperately to solve.

That being said, at the end of the day Crowley was also technically his employer, and therefore even the thought of anything more was decidedly not a Good Idea.

Vita Nova by AMidnightDreary (June 18, 2019)

“Angel, bloody hell. Hi. You doing okay? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said then, still polite, but a bit perplexed. “Who is this?”

Crowley, upon finding that Aziraphale does not remember him, is very much Not Okay with the changes Adam made after the Apocalypse That Wasn't. He can't do anything but try and make the best out of it, though. (Which is a lot easier than it should be.)

Sparse Clutter by ItsClydeBitches (June 26, 2019)

A fic bingo collection featuring twenty-five, one word prompts. Whole thing is probably best described as "Ineffable husbands stupidity with a hefty dose of gen world building," but I'll chuck brief summaries below as I update!

Strange Pilgrims: Being the Account of a lost Angel, the Journeys of a Demon, the meaning of Free Will, of the Unravelling of a Prophecy, and of Being Unravelled by it in Turn by sousverre (June 26, 2019)

"Aziraphale going missing" would be quite enough drama for Crowley to be getting on with, thanks very much - even without a prophecy that seems to be implying the significance of Feelings, and especially with every gargoyle in London trying to reunite them.

But when he does find the angel, Aziraphale has lost his memory, his wings, and insists that he is happily married to some kind of investment banker.

Right. So the first step is to fix all that, somehow, and then - and then - and then everything can go back to normal, like it was before, which is all Crowley wants.

Right.

How do we fix this?

Put Out The Fire by Aleakim (June 27, 2019)

Aziraphale finds himself in a very awkward position as some sort of spell makes everyone merely glancing in his direction instantly fall deeply and desperately in love with him.

Absolutely everyone.

Well, apart from Crowley, that is.

And while both angel and demon search for a solution to this fairly unique problem, Crowley can’t help wondering whether Aziraphale might finally figure out some things he kept hidden for so very long.

Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots by gutsandglitter (July 3, 2019)

Ninth Circle Ink was hardly more than a stone’s throw from the flower shop; Aziraphale knew from past experience that it took less than thirty seconds to go from door to door (forty-five if you had to wait for a car to pass). It had been a perfect arrangement in the beginning, when they were just starting out.

aka the flower shop/tattoo parlor (human) exes AU that nobody asked for!

You Can Have Your Cake by eragon19 (July 4, 2019)

Aziraphale has been working as Anathema's assistant at her wedding planning service for near on a year now. He thinks he's seen it all, from meddling parents to nervous brides, and in one case an ex with a penchant for arson.

What he isn't prepared for is a reluctant groom with a liking for black leather and a smile that has Aziraphale's mind going to places it most certainly shouldn't. Especially since the man is getting married, no matter how awful his fiance is...

To the Stars by StarRose (July 9, 2019)

The happy ending Titanic!Au no one ever writes but everyone always imagines in every possible fandom. Aziraphale is being forcibly sent to America to be forcibly married to Gabriel. Crowley is going to forcibly screw that up.

A Matter of Convenience by ylc (July 15, 2019)

There comes a time when even the most fervent enemies must call a truce and what better way to cement such truce than a marriage? And if the involved parties happen to be the most troublesome members of the ruling families… well, that’s all for the best, isn’t it?

Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter (July 16, 2019)

Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack.

Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Series of one-shots focusing on the lives and developing relationship between Ezra Fell and Anthony J. & Adam Crowley. Human AU.

Lavender, Chamomile, and a Rather Permanent Arrangement by southdownsraph (July 17, 2019)

Crowley owns the flower shop across the street from A. Z. Fell's tattoo shop, and can't help but be intrigued by the slightly eccentric, yet incredibly friendly tattoo artist. When Crowley does finally pluck up the courage to talk to him beyond the occasional pleasantries, he kicks off the beginning of a friendship that could so easily drift into something else entirely.

Pride and Prejudice and Angels by SanSanFanFan (July 20, 2019)

Hampshire, England, 1809

Miss Crowley's plans for a small temptation near the South Coast go awry as she realises that Aziraphale is not only a guest of a neighbouring landed gentlelady but also suffering under some kind of malady.

Match-making! Balls! Fainting! Happily Ever Afters???

Celestial Bodies by LieutenantLiv (August 3, 2019)

The year is 1923. Aziraphale's friends at the gentlemen's club invite him for a weekend away in Devon. He asks Crowley to join. It gets very silly and very messy very quickly.

That's just how things were in the roaring twenties.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm (August 9, 2019)

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

--His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses.

What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

-- Complete Works --

Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW (July 7, 2014)

Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 (January 8, 2018)

When horticulturist A. J. Crowley sees a rare breed of rose in a churchyard, he decides he won't stop until he can get a cutting—even if he has to go through the church's stuffy priest to do so.

Running in the Shadows (Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies) by soft_october (May 10, 2019)

"In plain terms, Mr. A. Fell was a man of impeccable conduct and unusual habits, and in a similar manner to many of whom bore the first two traits, he must also take up the third: dire loneliness. Yet it had not always been thus. Indeed, there once was a time when it seemed as if he should never know solitude or want of suitable company for the rest of his days, but the circumstances by which Aziraphale might have unwound the knot that now bound up his heart had long since dragged themselves, mortally wounded, to die in the shades of regret. Their ghosts hung in his past, growing in consequence with the singular passing of each year until they eclipsed even the death of those who had the foremost hand in their making, and had the effect of separating the sequence of his days of into a gentle, blooming Before, whose painful beauty made the egregious scars of the After that much more appalling."

What Aziraphale does not know is that, from across the ocean, Mr. Anthony J. Crowley is returning to England with his newly aquired wealth, wanting nothing more than to rebuild his life after a terrible shock and, perhaps, discover why he had been abandoned by his fiancé ten long years ago.

You Might Think I’m Crazy (All I Want is You) by soft_october (March 29, 2019)

'“Look I understand, you’ve got to check up on the new occupants, make sure I’m a proper ‘fit’ for the neighborhood or whatever euphemism you’re going to use this time, 'the greater good,' I saw the film, I get it. But I peeked in at the place next door the agent mentioned and if you aren’t bothering him I really don't think you should be-”

“I’m your neighbor,” Aziraphale interrupted. “I own that place next door?”

“Oh.”'

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone (June 6, 2019)

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

creatures of circumstance by attheborder (June 10, 2019)

Anthony J. Crowley, Jr. is the prodigal son of CrowleyCorp, the UK’s most powerful, dangerous, and controversial technology company.  

A one-night stand with a mysterious man who calls himself Aziraphale tips his hopeless life upside-down into a dangerous obsession.

And somewhere else entirely, a girl-shaped creature is presiding over the back room of a bookshop in Soho, where an angel and a demon lay unconscious on the floor…

Bending Space and Time by Draco_sollicitus (June 11, 2019)

Crowley could never have envisioned a miracle quite like making an angel smile.

And when that angel is Aziraphale, well, he'll do whatever he can to experience that miracle again, and again, and again.

(Crowley spends the twentieth century bringing books to Aziraphale in an effort to make his angel smile a little more)

the words of the prophet are written on the subway walls by volantium (June 11, 2019)

Aziraphale and Crowley do the twenty-first century. (Or, Aziraphale and Crowley, dorks in love, post-Apocalypse).

a picnic plan for you and me by theapplepielifestyle (June 12, 2019)

“It’s angel food cake,” he said. He waited. When Aziraphale did nothing but nod politely: “It’s funny, see, ‘cause-”

“No, no, I get it.” Aziraphale nodded again. “Very funny.”

“Oh, shut up, it is-”

“May I ask what brought this on?”

Crowley paused. “Can’t a guy just want to try baking?”

(Or, Crowley makes Aziraphale food after the world doesn't end. It has absolutely nothing to do with how much he wants to make Aziraphale smile.)

with urgency but not with haste by Sanwall (June 13, 2019)

Aziraphale moves to the South Downs and gets bees, and Crowley gets into one of his moods.

The Play’s The Thing by volunteerfd (June 16, 2019)

“Who was at the very first rehearsal, hmm? Who read over Shakespeare’s shoulder as he put ink to parchment? If anything, I know Hamlet just as intimately as I know you.” Aziraphale picked up his teacup again and looked at Crowley over the rim of it. “Maybe even more.”

Crowley was tempted to ask if he’d fucked Hamlet.

****

Aziraphale is cast as the lead in a community theatre production of Hamlet, a lifelong dream of his and a lifelong night terror of Crowley's. But, as the hapless Crowley helps him run lines, it becomes a mystery why anyone would let Aziraphale on stage. Tears are shed, skulls are crushed, monologues are butchered, and through it all, Crowley remains supportive. After all, the show must go on--even if it is the fifty billionth production of stupid, overrated Hamlet.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by 13thDoctor, JHarkness (June 17, 2019)

5 times Aziraphale and Crowley were mistaken for a couple, and the 1 time they weren’t.

A Regular Rip van Winkle by aurilly (June 20, 2019)

After almost an entire century spent asleep, Crowley wakes in 1888 to find the world more changed than he thought possible. His first order of business is to find his angel.

Also concerning the origin of the Baroque gavotte (spoilers: Aziraphale was feeling thirsty).

A bookshop is not a business by anactoriatalksback (June 22, 2019)

In which Aziraphale has no intention of selling books to anyone at all, let alone this infuriatingly persistent customer. No matter how nice his cheekbones are...

like a prayer for which no words exist by lipsstainedbloodred (June 23, 2019)

“What do you want, angel?” Crowley asks before Aziraphale is even properly in the room.

“Hullo my dear,” Aziraphale sounds cheery but also awfully worried, “I hadn’t seen you since - well, since-” Since they’d swapped bodies back; since Crowley had turned tail and ran from St. James’s Park like the Devil himself had been on his heels.

(in which Crowley and Aziraphale do not dine at the Ritz after that nasty business with Heaven and Hell, and Crowley has an existential crisis instead)

far too much in love to see by imperiousheiress (June 25, 2019)

“Hello, can I help you with anything in particular?” Aziraphale asks. And then, he freezes.

Inexplicably, impossibly, it’s the same man who had entered the shop the last time they’d been open. He’s sure of it. The man who he’d felt a rather insistent urge to garrote.

(Or, one of Aziraphale’s regular customers takes a little too much interest in Crowley, and Aziraphale feels somewhat unfamiliarly unpleasant about all of it.)

The Holiest by merle_p (June 26, 2019)

So when Aziraphale hears, through the grapevine, that an exorcism is supposed to happen on New Year’s Eve in Major Gruber’s flat, he knows that despite his general distaste for exorcisms, this is where he is going to be, on the slim chance that the demon Major Gruber and his spiritist friends have found is the same one Aziraphale appears to have lost.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers by Gefionne (June 26, 2019)

Because they can’t see each other more than once every few decades, Aziraphale suggests that he and Crowley write to each other to pass the time apart. As quills for their letters, they exchange wing feathers: a gesture of great intimacy that Crowley is convinced only he perceives the depth of. But time will tell that it’s not just him who sees it that way.

Night and Day by Gigi_Sinclair (June 27, 2019)

Five times Aziraphale and Crowley encountered queer historical figures who know more about them than they do, and one time they actually have a clue.

Needed a break, gone to France x by sleepymccoy (June 28, 2019)

A week or so after the nopocalypse Aziraphale takes a holiday that, unfortunately, sends Crowley into a bit of a tailspin about where they're at

In Holy Matrimony by Myracuulous (June 29, 2019)

From the private journal of Alisha Jones, wedding planner, concerning the nuptials of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale and the planning process thereof, containing an account of chosen decor, guest list construction, and the holy war against the Antichrist that nearly ruined six months of professional organization and a very nice dinner.

Acts of Service by seekwill (July 2, 2019)

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

greatest hits by attheborder (July 2, 2019)

“But my dear, I just can’t believe you never told me that you had joined a musical group. I would have come out to support you— at your gigs!”

“First of all, never say ‘gigs’ again. Second of all, not my fault you never noticed when I showed up to dinner with a great big guitar case slung over my shoulder.”

(Aziraphale accidentally discovers Crowley’s secret: he was in a band in the 90s. And he wrote a whole album of love songs…)

Nanny Knows Best by DictionaryWrites (July 5, 2019)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie.

Crowley wished that were true.

human childcare for the occult (and ethereal) by suzukiblu (July 10, 2019)

The Dowlings miraculously need a nanny and a gardener at the same time, and Aziraphale suggests they flip for it. Crowley takes one moment to picture Aziraphale nannying anyone and calls dibs. It’s not that Aziraphale’s terrible with humans, he’s just, well. Terrible with humans. Truly, truly terrible.

He doesn’t want to deal with Aziraphale getting metaphorically guillotined or kicking up security’s paranoia, basically. A gardener can be a little odd, and no one will notice or care. Except Warlock, perhaps, as the only other person with any real reason to spend much time out on the lawn, but Warlock’s the one they want noticing so that’ll be fine, Crowley’s sure.

Even if it does make him cringe a little, leaving Aziraphale in charge of the plants.

keep me close by Iselmyr (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale was expecting to see a talented but otherwise ordinary performance of Les Misérables with a genderswapped cast. Aziraphale was not expecting who came onstage.

Crowley was expecting an ordinary second night show, because Aziraphale always goes to opening nights, and Crowley never performs on them.

Except, this once, Aziraphale missed the opening, and came to the second night. Everything else snowballed from there.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

Reflect What You Are by Owenjones (July 17, 2019)

It's a year after the almost-apocalypse. Aziraphale makes Crowley go see a therapist.

“Have you been having any issues in particular?”

“Issues? Such as?”

“You tell me.” She could tell he had something on the tip of his tongue.

Crowley sat for a second, then blurted out, “He thinks I’ve been sleeping too much. He’s worried.”

An Answer to Prayer by Jupiter_Ash (July 20, 2019)

Prayers can be answered in a multitude of different ways. When it came to a certain cottage in the South Downs though, no one had expected it to be answered by the squealing wheels of a classic Bentley and Queen's Princes of the Universe.

All Karen wanted to do was sell a house.

The Ineffable Temptations of Oysters by gimpy_terry (July 20, 2019)

Wherein Aziraphale sometimes invites Crowley to dine on oysters with him and Crowley definitely takes him up on that offer.

did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw (July 21, 2019)

or were you quiet and afraid? — Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

A Machine for Living In by pineapplesquid (August 6, 2019)

All Crowley wants is to see the inside of the bookshop so that he can get this design for the building next door done so the clients will be happy and his bosses will stop yelling. What A.Z. Fell wants, apparently, is for Crowley and the project that’s he’s working on to disappear. Permanently.

One of these might be more attainable than the other.

[greyliliy]

I saw that @stormears​ is going on a Fanfic Crawl (power to you), so I thought I’d go visit my FFnet page and see if I had any FF7 fics bookmarked & I did! Sadly, those were the days where I only bookmarked my absolute favs, so I know there’s a lot of good fics I read and moved on. (And oh man, some of these are old enough they still have the “This has slash in it!” warnings.)

Here’s the list in case anyone wants to check them out. If I bookmarked it, I must have liked it, so I’m sure someone else will, too. XD

 Terrorism & Anarchy - by VarianN

Summary: Cloud's first thought on waking in the Shinra training grounds..."Where's the hidden camera?". What is one supposed to do when they find themselves inexplicably in the past? Become a terrorist four years early, of course. And look up a few old friends.

Movie Time by TwinTrouble

Summary: If Cloud, Zack and Sephiroth ever watched Advent Children. Because that movie is an extremely bad way to be introduced to the Final Fantasy VII fandom.

Consequence by anime-dark-fairy

Summary: When Cloud wakes up to find himself in the past, it falls to him to change the future. However with new enemies and a few distractions, can Cloud accomplish his task in time. Time Travel, yaoi, CloudxZack

Cadet Days by Chocobo13

Summary: Paying a visit to Zack's grave, Cloud has a strange dream and wakes up several years in the past as a SOLDIER cadet. He thought he was done, but it seems the Planet had other plans. Post-AC. Warning: Possible boyXboy pairing between Cloud and Sephiroth.

And just for fun, here’s my fics I have bookmarked on AO3:

Off The Line by esama

Summary: In which Cloud gets a Virtual Reality Dream Console – ShinRa's latest in virtual reality technology. Aaand everything pretty much goes downhill from there.

Green Dreams by I_Mushi

Summary: Cloud has suffered and asked for forgiveness, but Aeris knows she alone cannot give him it. He must find that forgiveness and peace where it began, back at SOLDIER.Update 4/17/2020: Work has been ongoing on a rewrite and complete version of this story, ESPECIALLY in light of the remake. Feel free to follow my tumblr (i-mushi) for updates!

The Fifth Act by Sinnatious

Summary: Cloud has an accident with a Time materia, and finds himself in the middle of the Wastes at the start of the Wutai War. There are people to save... and for that, there are three people who need to die.

Counter Crisis by Dragoon_sama, Kooriicolada (WHM_Koorii)

Summary: At first it was about preventing tragedy. For Cloud it soon becomes a fight to protect new bonds, tread untrod paths and find happy endings. Second chances aren't always easy in a time where ghosts live and heroes are human. [ Time Travel, Eventual Slash ]

Professor Strife by Basilton

Summary: For once, Cloud has his life sorted out. Going from delivery boy to travelling healer in the post-Meteor world, he finally has peace. When Denzel travels back through time, he has to leave it all behind to help his son in the world he thought he escaped. But taking Hojo's job? That was an accident. Mostly.

And that’s it!

I have learned two things from this list:

The fact I haven’t written my own Time Travel FF7 fic is kinda wild because good grief did I love that sub-genre.

I need to read more FF7 fics.

Anyway, if you have a great fic on FFNet that you know is buried in the masses, feel free to rec it! :D

[fanfic-scribbles]

Ways To Say You Care

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky’s been out of the dating game for a while, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his eye on someone. Courting someone is a bit different these days, but people still like ‘secret admirers’ right? He hopes you do.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff, such fluff, just…fluff

Words: 3106

A/N: I had an idea for a Valentine’s Day fic that actually split into two different fics. So this week is Bucky x Reader because it lost the explicit ‘Valentine’s Day’ setting and just turned out romantic, whereas next week is a Castiel x Reader that is themed for the holiday. This fic is one of those that turned out much different than I expected but I still like the end result, and I hope you enjoy it too.

    “Man, you have got this down to an art.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says and sips his drink. He flicks his eyes back down to the paper he’s pretending to read. “Are you staring? You better not be staring.”

“I’m not staring,” Sam chuckles. “You know, this whole thing would be creepy if they weren't checking you out almost as much.”

Bucky smiles into the newsprint. He glances up but you’re sitting on the other side of a wide path, focused on your book with little headphones in your ears. But then– you do glance up, and as soon as you see Bucky looking you hide your face in the pages. He’s pretty sure he saw you smile, though.

“Seriously,” Sam says. “When are you going to say ‘hi’?”

“I’m working on it.” Bucky flips to the next section. “I’ve got to start facing rejection sometime.”

“There’s no reason to be negative like that.”

“They don’t know who I am.”

“Ease up on the angst there, Batman.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they do. There’s not exactly a surplus of people with metal arms. Not even in this city.”

Bucky frowns and checks his arm– long sleeves, gloves, and a jacket usually cover him well enough. “Where’s it showing?”

“It isn’t now, but it did.” Sam’s grin is a bright warning sign. “Remember? That day I knocked you on your ass?”

Bucky scoffs and shoots him a glare. “More like when you knocked me on my face.”

“Well it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes.”

“Har fucking har.” But Bucky smirks. “I do remember that, actually. ‘Cause I remember after you knocked me down and they came over and tore you a new one. You remember that?”

Sam snorts. “I remember it took you way too long to tell them I was your friend.”

“I had to decide if you still were.”

“Fuck you, Barnes.”

“No thanks Wilson; I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Sam laughs and Bucky smiles. He watches you though, as you place your bookmark, pack up, and slowly walk away to the main path where runners, cyclists, and the rest of the riffraff eventually swallow you up.

“Seriously,” Sam says. “I’m not Steve and I’m not your therapist; I’m not going to push you. But I am your friend. Please tell me you’re going to do something about this.”

Bucky folds his paper neatly. “Don’t worry– I have a plan.”

Gift One

Bucky is practically fidgeting, he’s so nervous. He’s trying to call on the Winter Soldier side of himself but it isn’t working. On one hand, it’s comforting that it doesn’t come so easy anymore. On the other hand, he could really use it right now.

Though from a completely different hand, it’s possible that even the Soldier is terrified by this.

Someone is coming down the path and Bucky’s eyes dart from side to side until he sees you and forces his vision back to his paper. He should be relaxing, now that he doesn’t have to keep such a sharp eye out for interlopers, but he feels like a crushed-up ball of nerves.

You slow when you notice the card propped on your usual bench, innocent red envelope addressed on the basis of your favorite jacket and your taste in books. Bucky is very careful not to be seen looking, but he watches your every move. You pick up the envelope and keep your eyes on it as you sit, and you barely set your things to the side before you start (gently) prying open the flap.

Bucky watches as you read the card. It was the least cheesy one he could find at the store and the message he wrote was very simple, but your smile lights up your whole face and you let your eyes dart over it again and again and Bucky has to shove his paper up over his face and breathe deep in effort not to rip it because he did that? He had thought you’d be pleased but he never thought he could make anyone smile like that.

He forces himself to calm down. Even though you spend your morning intermittently picking up the card, Bucky doesn’t break rank. He has a plan and he is going to see it through.

After you pack up and leave, smile still on your face, Bucky does allow himself to drop the paper to his lap and sigh.

At least he’s off to a good start.

  Gift Two

There’s a small box on your bench.

At first, Bucky was going to put another envelope there but it didn’t sit right with him to do the same thing twice. Even though this is technically different.

The original plan was one gift card. A simple gift that could be personalized to a moderate extent. Then he got stuck between two perfectly good options– he’s seen you with Starbucks, and he’s seen you with books. Both, all the time. Which one do you love more? Warm drinks are good for this chilly weather, but books are also comforting.

In the end he mostly stuck with the plan and got a Starbucks gift card. And then he realized that he’d be setting out another envelope, so he then got you a pair of earbuds, and put both gifts in a small box.

So the plan is already off the rails and he doesn’t like it one bit. Then, as you approach the bench and see the small present, your eyes light up, and it’s when you start to open it that Bucky sees another problem with this plan.

Neither of his gifts have been signed. Sure, it’s reasonable for you to assume that it’s him leaving them– he’s always present and Sam is right, you both have been trading glances for a while– but the fact is that you don’t know who that box is from and you’re not being cautious at all; you just open it and–

Your smile makes Bucky relax. This will be a problem later, but for now he just enjoys watching you appreciate your gifts. “This is so nice,” you murmur to yourself. Not too nice, Bucky notes with relief. Maybe being a little bold isn’t so bad after all.

His phone buzzes and Bucky curses as he pulls it out. Naturally it’s Steve with a “situation” and command to get to the tower ASAP. Bucky confirms, but practically breaks the phone when he ends the call. He takes one last look at your blissful expression before he runs off.

  Gift Three

Bucky is exhausted.

He just got back last night and spent too much time tracking down a flower store that was still open. The rest of the team is going to be sleeping for the next few days– even Steve had looked at him funny when he was leaving the house.

  “You're up,” Bucky pointed out.

“Do I look like I’m going anywhere?” Steve asked and gestured at his pajama pants and t-shirt. “Is everything okay Buck?”

Bucky hesitated. “It’s…good. It’s going really good. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Steve’s smile was so big Bucky could already feel the boa constrictor hug incoming, and if Steve squashed the flowers in Bucky’s coat, Bucky really would murder him this time. “Now eat your Wheaties and go nap in front of the TV, old man,” Bucky said and swung the door open.

“Have fun feeding your birds,” Steve said. Bucky flipped him off and slammed the door shut.

  It’s not a bouquet, just two flowers tied together with ribbon and positioned carefully, but as simple as it is, Bucky likes it and hopes that you do too. He can barely pretend to read, his eyes are so heavy, but his stubborn persistence is rewarded.

If you’ve ever had doubts about where the gifts have been coming from, they’re probably well abolished after several days with no gift and then only getting one on Bucky’s return. However you still humor him, regarding the flowers without looking at him, and quietly thanking your “secret admirer,” your smile widening greatly on those two words.

Bucky feels at peace as he sits with his book and you sit with yours, until you have to go. Reluctantly, Bucky stands and stretches. Maybe he’ll have a nap. A short one. This next present is going to be the penultimate and it needs to be perfect.

  Gift Four

He finished it.

It’s sitting on the bench, folded carefully and looking as good as it can. Bucky fidgets– mostly to keep himself awake. Steve had barged in at two a.m. and threatened to tranq him. Bucky had responded by throwing a spare needle into the wall next to his head. Bucky’s going to have to apologize later, and fix the wall, but it was all worth it– the scarf turned out amazing, if he does say so himself. And he does. Say so. Or think so. Christ, he’s tired.

As soon as you catch sight of it you gasp and rush over. It’s all even more worth it as Bucky watches you unravel the scarf and feel it over. He knew it would be worth it, but it’s one thing to ‘know’ and it’s something else to see you running your hands over every purl before you throw the whole thing around your neck and nuzzle it with your cheek.

So worth it.

Bucky’s phone rings and he’s content when he answers. “Barnes.”

“Bucky,” Steve says. “Please. You have got to get some sleep.”

Bucky watches you for a moment while he takes stock of his body. “Okay.”

“You– wait,” Steve says. “Okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bucky says and stands. “You want me to pick up breakfast on the way?”

“Uh…sure. Bagels. And coffee– but none for you,” Steve says sternly. “And yes, I forgive you for trying to spear me with a knitting needle.”

Bucky snorts. “If I had really wanted to, I would have.”

“Mm hm,” Steve says. “So? How’d it go?”

Bucky considers it. “Good,” he decides.

“Good?” Steve repeats, sounding disappointed.

“I’m not done yet,” Bucky says, giving a courtesy glance before crossing. “Tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Steve says. “You better come home and get some sleep then.”

“That’s the idea,” Bucky says and hangs up. He’ll catch crap for it when he gets home, but that’s okay. Steve’s right– Bucky has to rest before tomorrow.

  Gift Five

The bench is empty.

Bucky sits, second-guessing himself and glaring at the sky. It downpoured overnight and has already rained again once on his way over. Lightly, but still. He’s not sure if you’ll even come, but he hopes, and his sleeves are wet from wiping the benches dry.

Thankfully, you arrive. Wearing the scarf. He’s too slow to look away and so there’s a moment of brief eye contact. You smile at him, and what’s more– you hesitate. Bucky feels his heart speed up. Is this it? It’s too soon, he’s not ready; he hasn’t prepared enough for– but you take your seat, and Bucky is left with retreating adrenaline and echoes of a racing heartbeat.

You take out your book and he focuses on his, for something grounding. He’s too nervous right now; he just needs a little time to calm down. Natasha has said he gets ‘loom-y’ when he’s nervous and as out of practice as he is, he knows that’s not how you want to ask someone on a date. So he’s just going to take a moment.

The weather has a problem with this plan.

When Bucky sees the first droplet land on the page, he curses. He shuts the book fast but not before more rain wets the page and he hurries to pop open his umbrella just before the cloudburst truly starts.

When he sees you, though, you’re still struggling with your umbrella and getting soaked in the meantime. He leaps up and rushes over, and only realizes what he’s done when you look up at him with a grateful smile. He freezes.

“Thank you,” you say.

He’s still frozen. You go back to fighting with your umbrella and after an eternity he manages to mumble, “You're welcome.”

“What?” you ask and squint up at him through the water still running down your face. He shakes his head and gestures for your umbrella while holding his to you. He crouches down so he can (mostly) stay under the cover while he tries to fix the problem. You scoot in and when he glances to the side he’s practically nose-to-spine with the book in your lap, and only centimeters away from your fingers, which are curled lightly around the waterlogged binding.

The fact that you’re hovering over him spurs him into working faster, but two of the wires are completely busted and no amount of coaxing is going to make it fan right. He looks up to give you the bad news but his face must say it all. You sigh. “I thought so,” you say sadly and glance at your book similarly. “Thank you anyway.”

You hand him back his umbrella and he stands and waits for you to do the same. You look at him curiously. “I’ll walk you to the street,” he says, thanking any deity who’s listening for his suddenly functioning vocal cords. “Until you get a cab.”

“Oh, I don’t want to put you out.”

“I insist.” The words surprise him as much as they surprise you, but you smile. Boldness rewarded, he bends his free arm out in offering.

“I’m soaked,” you say apologetically.

“So am I,” he says, even though he’s damp and you look like you’ve jumped in a lake.

You take his arm and, wet or not, he could stand here all day. Except you shiver and he knows now is not the moment he needs. He waves down a cab in record time. While holding the umbrella at the back door for you, he raps sharply on the passenger window. As you’re still maneuvering into the car Bucky leans in and hands the driver practically enough cash to get you to Canada. “Wherever they want to go; keep the change.”

The man’s eyes go wide and he nods rapidly. Bucky moves back to you just as you settle in.

“Thank you,” you say. You smile nervously. “I’ll…see you when the weather gets better?”

He nods. “Go warm up; don’t want you to catch a cold,” he says. You nod and he stands there awkwardly for a moment before he reluctantly steps back and shuts the door, letting the car speed off. It didn’t go as planned, but that’s all right. He’s going to make this work.

  Gift…One

There’s something on his bench.

And there’s someone watching him.

The something is a messily wrapped present that sort of resembles a circle. Vaguely. The someone watching is…you. Hiding behind a tree up the path.

Bucky laughs quietly to himself and goes to take his seat. He picks up the gift and finds a small card underneath. ‘For your running shoes,’ it reads and is signed by ‘your (mutual) secret admirer.’

Bucky can’t stop smiling, and he barely resists the urge to look up at you. Instead he opens his present. Shoelaces. Three bundles, each pair with unique patterns and vibrant colors. Well, Sam always says he wears too much black. Wait’ll he sees these.

Bucky hears you dart off and he watches you speed-walk away. After you almost collide with someone when you try to glance back, you keep your head forward and make your escape. Apparently his plan is officially on hold. That’s all right– Bucky is learning how to roll with the punches on this particular mission. He pockets the gift and card. He’s gotta go lace up his shoes.

  Gift Two

The next day he finds a gift card for The Strand. He watches you go again, and when you glance back and notice he’s watching you, you trip over your feet and barely catch yourself from falling.

It figures. Bucky has always loved disasters. He wouldn’t live with one if he didn’t.

  Gift Three

A warm beanie. Hand-bought if not hand-made, but Bucky loves it just as much. It’s cool blue and grey, and he puts it on immediately.

He hears a soft, “yes!” just before you run away.

  Gift Four

This gift seems more traditional and Bucky unwraps it carefully. It’s a small photo frame, and inside is a candid shot of Steve and Sam wrestling after, Bucky assumes, the two of them tripped each other up.

When he gets home he makes room for it right in the center of the mantle. Steve mutters about how the two of you at least have creepy stalking in common. Bucky socks him in the arm so hard that Steve glares at him off and on for the rest of the day.

  When Bucky arrives the next day, there’s no gift, and you’re reading in your usual spot.

He walks right over and asks, “Can I sit here?”

You shut your book too fast to save your spot but you nod, and Bucky takes his seat while you struggle to find the right page again. Once you do, and mark it, he clears his throat. “I’m…James. Barnes. But I go by Bucky.”

That could have gone better, but you don’t seem to notice as you introduce yourself. Bucky hesitates for just a moment before he plows forward. “This might sound out of the blue but I was wondering…if you’d like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

You grin and your body slouches in unmistakable relief. “That is pretty quick,” you say. “You only just learned my name.”

“It’s a really great name,” Bucky says and you laugh. You laugh. Because of him.

“How can I resist a compliment like that?” you say. “I’d love to.”

This is the best day of Bucky’s life.

“But…”

He stops mentally patting himself on the back, but you’re still smiling. “Dinner’s a long time away,” you say. “Maybe you’d like to come to breakfast with me?”

Bucky falls back to a familiar smile. “I’d love to.”

You get up and extend your right hand straight out for his left. Bucky goes to grab it, unthinking, until he notices which hand and– he freezes.

“Bucky.”

He looks at you. You look so patient. So gentle. “If it makes you uncomfortable then that’s one thing,” you say. “But I know. And you don’t have to worry on my account.”

He pauses, but slips his hand into yours, and he doesn’t let go for a very long time.

[justdrarryme]

Do you have any good sick harry fics? I've been looking everywhere and only found 3. I'm desperate

YES! YES! Oh hell, yes! Although, I guess some of these are more ‘injuries’ than an illness, but yeah…

Balance, Imperfect by (Explicit, 91 K)

Summary: When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

The Price of Valour by orphan_account, RomanyWalker, wench_fics (WeasleyWench) (Explicit, 406 K)

Summary: What happens when someone you hate needs you more than anything else? When it’s life or death, either battle to the end, or die trying. DH compliant, but ignores the Epilogue.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (Mature, 114 K)

Summary: Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Silenced by the Night by parkkate (Mature, 55 K)

Summary: After a spell goes horribly wrong, Harry has to deal with the loss of his eyesight. It’s such terrible timing, too, because how is he supposed to find out what Malfoy has been up to in the Room of Requirement? It’s not like he can ask the git, not only because it’s Malfoy, but also because the Slytherin has suddenly lost his voice. While they’re both trapped in the hospital wing, however, Harry discovers there’s so much he didn’t know about Malfoy, and it’s highly intriguing, but also a bit alarming. Where did all these confusing feelings come from all of a sudden? And what is Harry going to do about them?

And there’s this one which I have not read and am not going to because I just don’t think that I can handle it mentally. Although I’m sure it’s absolutely brilliant. I read a few paragraphs and broke down in tears to be honest with you. 

A Certain Kind of Memory by jamie2109 (Mature, 96 K)

So, from what I can gather from what I read Harry has a brain tumour and….you know what? I have to go to work in half an hour and I can’t talk about this without crying. I SUCK at Major Character Death fics. 

I’ve got bookmarked a bunch of fics involving mental illnesses too but I’m thinking that’s not what you’re looking for? If you are though, shoot me another ask and I’ll get back to you when I get home from work in about, six hours. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these Nonnie. 

Love to you Xx

[colllapsingstarr-blog]

giant panic reclist (organized by ship)

So, I organized everything by ship because you never know what people are into, and I read pretty much anything and everything I can get my hands on that’s long. This is a fanfiction reclist for Panic! at the Disco fics only. Will I ever address other bands? Perhaps. Everything’s below the break.

Note: I have not read every Panic! fic in existence. Cut me some slack here if your absolute favorite isn’t on this list, and if it’s NOT please send it to me, I’d love to read it!

I’ll be including poly ships in the next list, because this list is long enough as it is. If I were to add poly ships, we’d be here all day.

Let’s start with the popular ones, shall we?

Format: Title by Author (click for story) | Rating, Word count, Author’s summary | Personal thoughts

If a link is broken/incorrect, please let me know. That stuff’s embarrassing.

Fics may or may not require an AO3 login (as I have an account, so I don’t know which are locked and which aren’t). Any fics hosted on LiveJournal (noted with a * at the start of the title) do not require a login, as far as I’m aware, because I don’t have a LiveJournal.

Ryden

- Sense of Touch by pressdbtwnpages | G, 5434, Brendon and Ryan turn into otters, but that's just the beginning of the problem. | It’s been a while since I’ve read this story (I did, once upon a time.) I don’t remember much, but this is pretty much absolutely hilarious.

- Just One of the Girls by skoosiepants | T, 20830, "Spence, I'm. Look, I'm going to prove this girl-thing to you, okay? I'm going to," he held up his hands, "this is so brilliant, I'm going to become a girl." | I actually really enjoyed this fic. It was interesting to see all the different interactions, and the way that it actually sort of all comes together in the end.

- for other meanings of tsunami by jocondite | T, 36352, On the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour, Brendon comes up with a brilliant, brilliant plan to get regular orgasms without resorting to the palpitating groupies Zack disapproves of. Sure, he's never thought of himself as gay, but blowjobs know no gender, and if Ryan's willing, why the hell not? The path to true Nirvana is anything but smooth, though, and a lot of bad sex later, Brendon figures a few things out. | This speaks for itself, I’m pretty sure. This is a reclist. I’m soft for long fics.

- You Will Know The Difference When I Touch You by two_waymirror | E, 5348, It wasn’t a gay thing at first. Well, it was possible that Brendon had a tiny little crush on Ryan, but it was a buried thing in the back of his still-half-Mormon brain, emerging very slowly. | Not as long as most of my favorites, but still well-written.

- A Light On a Hill by rubblerousing | T, 17918, My greatest flaw is that I keep a running list of eight separate sentences that I, at one point in my life, have spoken aloud and which could have, maybe, possibly, embodied within them the reason Ryan Ross has decided to hate me. Some people’s greatest flaws are their overly prominent features. Some people would tell me my greatest flaw should be my overly prominent features. My friends would say my greatest flaw is that I am too outspoken; people who are under the delusion they are my friends but in actuality are not would say my greatest flaw is that I am too reserved. Maybe it’s the other way around. If I were a better person and could admit I probably very dearly ought to be under the watchful eye of a psychiatrist, because I have some kind of obsession with thinking about things too much, and with keeping lists, then my psychiatrist would say my greatest flaws are cowardice, being unable to move on from the past, an addiction to adulation, keeping lists, and perhaps Ryan Ross, if I ever got around to mentioning him. | I’m not a big fan of first person POV fics in general, no matter if it’s in irl books or in fanfiction, but here it just...works? I don’t know. Read it for yourself.

- Anyone Else But You by zarah5 | M, 67238, College AU. Panic never formed at high school. Instead, they meet at college, and in between striking up a friendship with his working colleague Spencer and trying to ensure that his roommate Jon doesn’t get sick of him, in between forming a band and writing songs, Brendon would really appreciate it if his bandmate (and Spencer’s best friend) Ryan Ross didn’t turn out to be Brendon’s TA. Especially considering their fling just before the start of the term. | You may or may not have read this already. This fic is worth rereading, though.

- Leaving Without Moving by northern | E, 29874, "I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... pet sense?" “Not if you're not interested," Ryan gritted out, hot with shame. "You can stop making fun of me now. That was fucking hard to say." He rested his head on his arms, feeling weak and slightly nauseated with how his stomach was churning. | Not a fan of vampire AUs, ordinarily. I’m okay with blood, but for some reason vampire AUs aren’t my thing. However, I was willing to make an exception for this fic and I’m glad I did, because even though it isn’t my normal pick of AU, it’s really well-written. 

- A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves by kyasuriin | G, 1758, A guitar is perhaps not something that friends, even bandmates, get for each other. Brendon just hopes Ryan won't notice the way his heart is practically falling off his sleeve. | Um. Don’t have much to say on this one?

- The Heart Rate of a Mouse by arctic_grey | Not including stats | Well-known. Don’t need to say anything. Loved this fic.

- Oh Doctor Doctor by softlyforgotten | E, 17269, It was just that on his first day in the oncology department of the hospital six years ago, he'd been introduced to Dr Ryan Ross, Head Surgeon, and fallen stupidly and irrevocably in love with him, and that, apparently, was that. (A hospital AU.) | The title reminds me of Razia’s Shadow, so when I saw this it was an instant click. Love how this fic isn’t just about the relationship (despite the implications of the summary); there’s more to it.

- *Back To The Place by behindthec | E, around 93000, Once upon a time, Panic went to a cabin in the mountains to write an album they never made. One night there, something happened that Ryan tried to forget. Two years later, he still hasn't. | I have. No words for this fic. It is just that good. I know that the primary site for fanfiction is AO3, and a lot of fics are cross-posted (I tried to find what I could on AO3, because on some I have the LJ version bookmarked), but consider trying out a different format for reading. It’s a little annoying, but this fic makes it so worth it.

- *Ryan Ross: Wedding Planner (What We Do Is Love) by adellyna | M, Unknown, Ryan plans weddings! Just not gay weddings. Ok, maybe just this once. | Hilarious one-shot. Like. This is serious fic, but also very, very funny.

- *just this once, be my savior by sinuous_curve and insunshine | E, around 32k, In which Ryan has a daughter, Brendon has a nephew and somehow, they manage to fall in love. | Kid!fic.

Brallon

Doing this reclist made me realize exactly how few fics I read with just this pairing. I normally read the two of them with someone else in a poly ‘ship, but not the two of them by themselves? (send me some. please)

(I actually have read one I liked, but I’m too lazy to dig it up. The title was something in French, I think.)

Brencer

This pairing is a hard preference over most other pairings. I just. Like it a lot.

There are probably more fics on this list than there are in any other ship I include on this list.

- There Should Be A Name For Something Like This by skoosiepants | T, 3777, It was the best idea Brendon had ever had, ever. | Sometimes I read things because they’re long and have a good summary, and other times I just want a laugh. This is one of those fics.

- Supersaturation by skoosiepants | T, 15017, Brendon's a little in love with Lieutenant Spencer Smith. And not, like, fifteen-year-old girl love, either, but the kind of love where his chest hurts and he wants to be around him constantly and he wants into his pants, and okay. It pretty much sounds like fifteen-year-old girl love, but it's not, no matter what Ryan says. Spencer is just. Pretty. And competent and, okay, the sidearm is totally sexy. He didn't think he'd ever go for that, but the handling of it, his hands, really, and the thigh holster? Makes Brendon want to lick him. A lot. | Not linking the whole series because I’ve only read the first two. Crossover with Stargate Atlantis, but I have absolutely no knowledge of that fandom, and I was perfectly fine.

- Certain Coasts Set Apart by skoosiepants | T, 15327, It was easier to get lost on the Virginian coast than Spencer thought it would be. | This is one of two Spencer-ends-up-isolated-from-Panic!fics that I love. Both of their plots are actually caused by similar catalysts, surprisingly.

- Anywhere You Let It Go by skoosiepants | T, 21211, "Okay, this is what I've figured out so far. I'm stuck in some sort of hell that looks vaguely like a Sandra Bullock movie." | Brencer is sort of a side pairing, but I’m still considering it because it drives the plot and isn’t just an aside for the main character (Patrick).

- the Sweater Vests series by disarm_d | E, 15709, (first work summary) Spencer can't believe himself for trying something like this. He can't believe that he'd risk his friendship with Brendon, his friendships with everyone else if Brendon decided to tell, his place in the school if Brendon caused enough fuss. Except that when Brendon's tongue brushes over his lower lip, it's easier to understand why. | British boarding school AU! Angst! Hurty, but in the good way.

- Towns Flying By by jocondite | T, 3976, Brendon is very much in love with the van. He draws a ragged row of little black hearts on the back door, just above where some girl in some town had scrawled her phone number. He loves it right up until the heat cuts out somewhere in the middle of Colorado that first November. (Cuddling for warmth). | Cute fluff.

- The Way It Is Now by skoosiepants | T, 5790, He ponders on how exactly to phrase his question. Finally, he sends, is spencer dying andor eating babies | This author is on this reclist a lot? Maybe, but they write excellent fic.

- The Magic Friend Band by skoosiepants | T, 9408, The totally true story of how Spencer Smith joined Patrick & Brendon's Magic Friend Band. | This author actually writes really funny stories. They’re enjoyable, but also have an underlying thread of seriousness.

- Once Upon a Time’s Only Fiction When Tomorrow Becomes Today by rossetti | E, 13344, The year Virginia Dale Wentz turns five her parents die in an accident aboard a chartered day-boat to Catalina. | Under Brencer because that’s endgame. Ryan/Spencer is a thing but only as friends with benefits. Kid!fic. Always adorable.

- In the Sirocco by sevenfists | M, 12241, A story about hypnosis, God, marijuana, and true love. | There are two hypnotism stories on this list. This is the more angsty one.

- Panic! at the Barn-Raising series by vixalicious | T, 20895, (first work) Um. They're Amish. | Sort of ridiculous but really also quite good.

- Tell me to stop by AirgiodSLV | E, 29335, “You have no idea what you’re doing, okay?” Ryan says in exasperation, blowing out a huffy breath. “I’m just saying. I think…I might know a guy.” | Warning: kink fic. I might be ace and don’t get off on it, but I can still appreciate it for what it is.

- But you can’t be missed by elenor_lavish | E, 20664, "No, I mean. It's like you haven't aged a single day." Ryan steals another glance, and Brendon looks uncomfortably out the window. The back streets of Vegas look a lot like he remembers them. The cars in the driveways aren't really different, people are still dressed the same, dragging their trash to the sidewalk in their pajamas. No one's in some sort of space-age suit or wearing a video visor, or walking a robotic dog. If Brendon was going to be dropped unceremoniously into the future without his consent, there could at least be robotic dogs. | Time travel fic! Um. This one is sort of weird, but it’s also really good.

- The Sweet Spot by vixalicious | T (though I think it’s closer to M), 14872, "Responsibility" should be Spencer Smith's middle name (except it's James). After all, not many people would sacrifice their lives to run the family bakery and raise their twin sisters. But now the girls are grown, and Spencer has to learn to put his own needs first! And Brendon, the Sweet Spot's newest regular, might just be what Spencer's looking for. But will Brendon's past get in the way of their present? | I’m pretty sure this was for the LJ challenge harlequin_bands, and it shows, but I’m into those tropes, so it’s all good.

- All In The Way That You Trip by skoosiepants | M, 22199, “I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, and he looks – Brendon shudders – he looks like he wants Brendon to stay quiet, like he’s just itching to take Brendon apart and maybe put him back together wrong. “Where is Ryan?” | I initially read this fic on LJ, so when I found out that it was also hosted on AO3, I was like: huh? But: secret agent!Spencer is a concept I can get behind.

- Personal Affairs by zarah5 | M, 31094, Office AU. When Spencer Smith is put in charge of planning some legal aspects of a top secret, rather spectacular take-over of another company, he quickly falls into an e-mail sort-of-flirtation with his colleague at another site, Brendon Urie. But when Brendon actually visits New York and Spencer for a face-to-face meeting, Spencer withdraws because how do you handle it when someone you exchanged countless e-mails with turns out to be just as hot as you imagined? | I am NOT qualified to make a reclist where I give my own thoughts, okay? This fic was really good, albeit the conflict was superficial.

- Only Unto Him by disarm_d | E, 25837, As a Prince(ish person), Spencer was meant to be pure in every way. He didn't know what to expect from an arranged marriage — but certainly not Brendon's incessant grabby hands. Who did this bouncy, mysterious stranger think he was? AND ARE SEXY TIMEZ EVER GOING TO HAPPEN? [Hint: it is quite likely they are.] | This fic is great. This was another one I originally read on LJ, but I reread it on AO3, so. You don’t lose anything from the switch between platforms, and for me it’s easier to read it all in one place (so I always turn on read full work on AO3 instead of chapter by chapter, so theoretically I can read it all in one sitting.)

- Stranger In This Town by seratonation | E, 11427, It was an idyllic sort of life. He had a secure job, a substantial paycheck, and a loving husband. And yet, Spencer felt tired. He felt numb, like everything around him was fading, or maybe it was the other way around, and he was the one who was fading. | I have Not seen the movie this is based on, but most fics that are based off of other things you don’t need knowledge of it for.

- If You’re Listening, Sing It Back by blackbird | E, 10079, If sometimes he ends up in the men's room with another guy pressed up against the door, that's no one else's business. Until one morning, by accident, it is. | I recently reread this fic, and most of the fics I’ve read are just as good on the reread.

- Closer by tigs | T, 1725, It feels different when, the moment Ryan sees them, he slams to a halt and says, "Shhh! We don't want to interrupt Spence and Brendon's cuddle time!" | Cuddle time! Accidental relationships!

- Into This Dream by (an orphaned account) | E, 28417, He's my best friend. I wish I could have been his. | I really understand Brendon in this fic. Wanting someone to be as close of friends with someone as you are with them is familiar to me, so Brendon’s decisions make a little more sense. (But I’m aromantic! So there is no romantic interest in my friends. So similar, but not completely the same.)

- And I’d Be Your Memory by tigs | Unrated, 8383, And somehow, midway through the tour, the postcard collecting becomes known as Brendon’s thing. | This is a feel-good fic.

- The Estranged Governess by wildestranger | E, 33258, Brendon is a governess with a disgraced past, who comes to teach the young cousins of Sir Spencer Smith. Sir Spencer is amused by this bouncy young man, and finds himself paying far to much attention to Mr Boyd's secretive manner as well as to the way he fills his regrettably old and worn clothes . Furthermore, Sir Spencer's oldest friend, the dissolute Lord Ross, is trying to woo, unsuccessfully, his estate manager Mr Walker. despite the tumultuous passion between them, Mr Walker refuses to give in to Lord Ross's advances as long as Lord Ross refuses to admit that it is more than a tumble in the hey that he wants from Mr Walker. Fortunately, Walker is a patient man and willing to wait while Ross goes through his tantrums. To this entangled situation arrives Mr Wentz, a cousin of Sir Spencer and an old flame of Lord Ross. Mr Wentz is known for his debauched lifestyle and delights in causing mayhem - and he seems far too interested in Sir Spencer's new tutor. But will the lovers find a way? Will Brendon lose his flower and find healing through the magic of buttsex? Will Ryan learn to admit his feelings and finally convince Jon Walker to bed him? | For some reason I associate this fic with this GSF fic that will be later on this list.

- Sea Change by sunsetmog | M, 53895, After getting his heart broken, Spencer tries to start a new life without the band. | This is the other Spencer-leaves-Panic! fic on this list. This one’s a lot more angsty, but also really great.

- Lights Never Shine as Bright as in the Movies by Sena | E, 35251, Brendon Urie's a master's student in music at UNLV who happens to make porn on the side. Spencer Smith's a wilderness photographer who happens to really, really like the online porn Brendon makes. They meet and shenanigans ensue. Also featuring Shane Valdes as Brendon's roommate and owner of his very own online porn site, William Beckett as Las Vegas' bitchiest maitre 'd, Gabe Saporta as a mime waiter, Greta Salpeter as a harried and overworked assistant, and Ryan Ross as himself. | It’s a...lot more angsty than you might think it is based on the summary.

- This Kind of Experience is Necessary For Her Learning by sinuous_curve | E, 8867, High on his shoulder, just off the ridge of his shoulder blade, he has an oblong bruise sunk into his skin. It's bright, livid purple, ridged with a regular series of darker spots along the edge. Spencer has a moment of wondering whether he was the victim of a prank he's since forgotten about or if he got abducted by aliens or someshit. Then, in a rush, he remembers. | Kink story. Why is Brencer the ship where everyone writes the kink stories? Serious question.

- E-mail Ficcish: Ashlee Simpson, Girl Romance Detective by Elucreh | T, 1370, RACHEL: http://twitter.com/petewentz/statuses/8302818080 LU: OH MY GOD, PETE, I LOVE HOW MARRIED YOUR DOUBLE DATE COMPANIONS ARE RACHEL: This is clearly the fic where Ashlee thinks they ARE dating and there's a lot of awkward coughing and hemming and hawing when they try to explain that uh... actually no?(BUT OBVIOUSLY THEY ARE IN LOVE) | AAAAAAAA

- More Adventurous by fictionalaspect | E, 48831, Spencer wondered if everyone thought he and Brendon were dating. He wondered about the way Brendon was always so tactile with him, the effortless way Brendon sort of fell into Spencer's personal space like he belonged there. He wondered if it was weird that Brendon was sleeping in his bed, if maybe Jess had just misheard him and assumed they were sleeping together in Spencer's bed, like Spencer used to do with Ryan. It got to the point that he wasn't even paying attention to what was going on in the game, and thus was totally blindsided when a particularly impressive kick by Taylor Murphy caught Spencer squarely in the balls. "Motherfucker," Spencer swore, when he felt himself capable of forming words again. "Happens to the best of us," Mr. Davies said, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. The impact jarred his back and by extension Spencer's sore balls, and he squeaked in pain. "You'll be alright," Mr. Davies said. "Just keep your eye on the ball next time. And watch that language." "Sure," Spencer said, instead of what he wanted to say, which was "Fuck you, douchebag." Spencer didn't need his gym teacher's sympathy, he needed a fucking ice pack. | Panic! at the Disco’s origin story is seriously like a fanfiction. Seriously.

- The Name of this Thing is Not Love by fictionalaspect | E, 21912, "I'm telling you," Jon says, and clicks his tongue behind his teeth like a disappointed grandmother. "There's a whole other world out there, man. You need to expand your horizons a little." "That's nice," Spencer says. It gives him a weird jolt in his stomach, to hear Jon spell it out like that. "Thank you for your concern. My sexuality is fine, thanks. It doesn't need your sympathy or your support." "It might get you laid," Jon says. "I get laid," Spencer says. "Sometimes." "No, you don't," Jon says. "You think very hard about it, decide it isn't worth it, and then you go home and order Chinese." | This fic, for some reason, feels like part of an almost totally unrelated story written way earlier by a different author. Like. Seriously.

- When Life Gives You Lemons (Say F**k the Lemons and Bail) by fiddleyoumust | E, 26475, Brendon and Spencer go on a cruise to escape their problems. They end up finding more than rest and relaxation. | Stands on its own.

- Amateur Cartography by fictionalaspect | E, 42365, In the summer of 2008, Brendon’s still trying to figure everything out. He’s good at keeping his own secrets, but when a prank goes awry, he’s faced with the realization that Spencer has some secrets of his own. They end up stumbling backwards into a complicated relationship—one that definitely doesn’t include sex. Or does it? | Again, kink fic. There are a few more on this list, I think.

- Works Both Ways by rsadelle | M, 1255, "The mate bond works both ways." Mark seems to realize that no one knows what to say to that, and he looks over at Spencer. "Are we not supposed to say anything about that?" | Werewolf AU.

- The Amazing Tail of Brendon Boyd Urie by RedOrchid | T, 1977, For the prompt: Brendon/Spencer, born with a tail. Written for no-tags 2011 | I’m pretty sure this is crack.

- If Music Be The Food Of Love (I’ll Have The Veggie Burger) by sunsetmog | M, 42250, Oblivious High School Failboats in Love, or, Brendon Urie: The High School Years. | Seriously. Panic!’s origin is very much so like a fanfic.

- Love Makes People Do The Wacky (or: Brendon Urie and Jon Walker, Adventures in Bromance) by ohohstarryeyed | M, 10651, As far as Brendon is concerned, being in love with Spencer would fucking suck, if it weren't for Jon Walker. | The power of friendship!

- Thereafter You Have It (And Tango Makes Three) by sunsetmog | E, 89286, Baby!fic. As harriet_vane succinctly put it, the almost true story of how Brendon's an idiot, Spencer brings Brendon shiny rocks, and no one gets any sleep. Or, alternatively, the one in which Brendon accidentally gets a girl pregnant, decides he wants to be a dad, and pretends like he's not in love with Spencer. "Hey, baby girl," Brendon says, softly. He thinks he should have thought of something more profound to welcome his daughter in to the world. | Kid!fic is my weakness, okay?

- Do Rockstars Dream Of Electric Sheep? by themoononastick | M, 18229, Spencer has weird dreams, questions his sexuality and spends a lot of time hiding things away in boxes in his mind. | This one is...weird and sort of puts you in a daze. I don’t know, okay?

- Here At The Right Time by sunsetmog | E, 51477, How had he managed to get this far in life without realizing exactly what it was that turned him on? | More kink-based fic.

- Cute Girls (Just Wanna Have Fun) by LittleMousling | E, 36960, Brent may have tricked Ryan and Spencer into auditioning a girl guitarist, but there's no question that Brendon is the best they've seen. Soon enough she's their new best buddy, too, hanging out at Spencer's house almost as much as Ryan does. The band is finally coming together, and Spencer's starting to think they might really make it as musicians--if she can stop getting distracted by her hopeless crush on Brendon. | The third early-Panic!-retelling I have. (There might be more idk.)

- A Presumption of Functionality (A Gas-Light Romance) by sunsetmog | G, 44502, When a spy brings news that an old inventor might have the key to finally bringing the war with Napoleon to an end, Spencer Smith, Officer of His Majesty's War Office, is dispatched north to discover if there's anything to these tales of dirigibles and flying-craft. Instead of flying-craft, however, he finds a unusual, dilapidated house – and instead of an old inventor, he finds Brendon Urie, complete with his pet hedgehog. With Brendon's scientist grandfather missing, Spencer is left trying to protect Brendon, rescue his grandfather and ensure that the secrets of flying-craft remain out of enemy hands. Vaguely steampunk-y AU in which the Napoleonic Wars didn't end with the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, but instead carried on well into the next decade. | I’m weak for steampunk AUs.

- Graham Need Not Apply by Pennyplainknits | T, 10327, Spencer doesn't want to be just one in a string of drummers for Panic. He's trying his hardest not to be another Graham, which would be easier if someone would tell him exactly what it is that Graham did. Or: Spencer pines, Brendon is a brave little toaster, and Ryan Ross will cut you. | That last part is practically a summary of most Brencer fics.

- I’d Hate To See You Frown by oanja | T, 52114, One would think that agreeing to an arranged marriage would make Spencer unhappy, but in fact he has nothing against it. Spencer has never been one to waste his time imagining swooping romances for himself, so settling for something more pragmatic is fine by him - especially as it's so beneficial to the family business. What he did not account for was his best friend Ryan becoming entangled in a very unsuitable affair with a libertarian, or that he would find his new spouse so appealing. Trying to prevent Ryan from ruining his reputation while adjusting to married life is going to require a delicate touch, which is not something Spencer has ever been known for. | Regency AU.

- Call It Home series by sunsetmog and fictionalaspect | E, 45630, Brendon feels like the one fixed thing in his life, the one unchangeable constant that Spencer can rely on even when everything around him is going to shit. It just figures that Spencer's going to ruin that, too, when they get back to LA and he makes his move. | This series was supposedly going to have more installments (I saw this on LJ, too), but with the two stories it currently has, it still feels complete.

- A Troubling of Hummingbirds by jukeboxghost | E, 11407, "Man," says Spencer, articulately, but Brendon gets it, he does. Here they are, here for a few days with two rented surfboards held together by layer after layer of duct tape and surfwax, the sweet smell of pungently rotting kelp, even sweeter surf, fresh fish and smokin' BBQ and gentle dusk every night and it's so utterly indulgent. Brendon feels fucking, like, nourished, feels like his insides have been scrubbed clean and copper-bright with wire wool, like all the dust and detritus and loose, lost feelings have been swept neatly into the corner, pruned and weeded and spring-cleaned. He takes a huge breath in. "Fuck yeah," he says. | This fic is sort of weird and airy in the unsettling way, but it’s really well-written.

- Hold on Tight and Don’t Let Go by fiddleyoumust | T, 13975, In reality, Brent brings Brendon to practice and Spencer falls in love with him the moment he bounces through the door of Spencer's garage. | The Story of Panic!, as told by yet another author.

- Stop Breathe Count To Three by sunsetmog and I think fictionalaspect (but I’m not completely sure on that) | E, 14907, "So, it's a comfort thing. It's just a comfort thing. Sometimes Brendon likes to suck on Spencer's nipples, and Spencer likes to hold him there and stroke his hair. Nothing weird about that." Or: We're not sorry. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. | This one’s sort of weird, but that’s okay.

- White Houses series by boxparade | Unrated, 44628, The one where Brendon is a music major who works at a diner and Spencer is the culinary arts major who thinks he’s cute. Ryan is all philosophical and kinda creepy (duh) and Jon works for Spencer’s dad, who happens to be the President of the United States. | Fluffy.

- Don’t cut your hair (Do you think it’s going to make him change?) by harriet_vane | T, 38891, The original summary was: Set a little while in the future. The band takes a break and Brendon gets bored. Spencer goes with him. Now I suppose it would be "Set a little bit in a slightly nicer past, where Brendon and Spencer go on tour by themselves but it isn't the end of the band." | Haven’t read this one in a while. I need to reread it, but I remember it being good.

- Suppose We Never Ever by playfullips | M, 23111, After Haley breaks it off with Spencer, Brendon helps him get back on his feet. Time passes, and Spencer finds himself seeing Brendon in a different light. | A lot more angsty than you’d think?

- Interlinked by doctor_jalsey | T, 12784, A story about finding yourself in the most unusual way and new beginnings. Or conversely, a mildly steampunkish fic where Spencer doesn’t realize he’s dating Brendon. | Still weak for steampunk.

- Forever Together by eledhwenlin | E, 15232, Spencer was taken by the phouka when he was only eight years old. He has grown up in their world and considers himself part of their community. But when Brendon and Spencer fall in love, they face serious ramifications ... and the only solution is to brave the human world together on their own, if they don't want to give up their love. | Fantasy is my favorite genre, mostly taken out on real books.

- I Wish I Could Remember You by sunsetmog | T, 8411, Spencer wakes up in the hospital after a surfing accident, and can't remember the last three years of his life. The doctors tell him his amnesia is likely to only be temporary, but in the meantime, Spencer can't remember the house he shares with Brendon, their dog, or how long they've been dating. Because--they are dating, right? | Not much to say on this one.

- The Heart of Lonesome Sky by heartsdesire456 | E, 30609, When Brendon Urie arrives at Rusty Creek, a ranch town so small the saloon doesn't even have a name, all he knows is that the man he was sent to marry was named Spencer Smith. At first glance, Brendon can't understand why a man as handsome and well established as Spencer Smith would need a mail-order groom when he should have been able to get any eligible man or woman in Rusty Creek. Through awkwardness, acceptance, and eventually belonging, Brendon has a chance to eventually learn the heart of the man who brought him to Lonesome Sky ranch. | Historical AUs!

- Autocorrect Says I Longview You But I Say I Love You by Count_B and Shakespeares_Girl | T, 2027, When you're in love, you leave little notes everywhere, and you just can't stop texting each other, and eventually, those things pile up and tell a story all their own. (Story told in love notes and text messages, and a tweet or two.) | Really, really cute.

- Fear of Flying by mokuyoubi | E, 29356, Spencer Smith, part-owner and celebrated head chef of noted restaurant Panic! At The Disco, is talented, rich, and gorgeous. The rest of the staff can't even seem to remember that Brendon works there. “You’re really good at that,” Jon observed. “Good at what?” Brendon asked, swirling his spoon in his dish. The ice cream was a melted mess by now. “Finding excuses not to come to the party even when you’re invited, not letting Spencer get to know you even when he asks you a direct question about yourself,” Jon said casually. Brendon dropped his spoon and glared across the table. “What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying that you don’t want anyone getting any closer to you,” Jon said. “How long were you with your last boyfriend?” | Warning: may make you hungry. (Also, I’m pretty sure jackfruit doesn’t look like that - I’ve eaten it.)

- Cinderella AU series by mokuyoubi | E (whole series), 32169, A Brencer retelling (sort of) of Cinderella. | This should really be a brencer fic but my favorite part of this is Pete/Ashlee/Patrick and idk why.

- The View From Here by mokuyoubi | E, 13634, Spencer has an irrational fear of Ferris wheels. Brendon sees it as his duty as best friend to cure him of it. | Or: Jon and Ryan try to set Spencer and Brendon up!

- The Gay Mormons series by stele3 | T, 39104, No summary | Poly!Spencer is amazing, okay?

- A Storm Brewing by bad_peppermint | G, 25073, Ever since he started university, Spencer has been quite content studying his dragons and trying to talk to Brendon, the young man who works at Spencer's boarding house. Having the dragons fall mysteriously ill is the last thing he wants, but then again, it does mean more time spent with Brendon as they try to figure out what's wrong. | The full title is too long, okay?

- There’s a boy that I like by spendon | T, 3833, 'There's a boy that I like,' Brendon began typing, fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard, tapping the keys delicately. |

- that one regret is you by thescrewtapedemos | E, 13969, There’s a witch living way out in the woods (that’s Spencer) and there’s someone running blindly through said woods (that’s Brendon) and that’s about where the similarity to a fairytale ends (there’s a cauldron but Spencer only uses it to make soup so Brendon’s pretty sure it doesn’t count) | Fantasy, again, is my favorite genre of rl novels. So, it’s pretty much a given that with this length + this AU, I would at least read it. But it’s actually great.

- Rule #3 (Wear Your Heart On Your Cheek) by Kandakicksass | E, 7768, "someone write me a brencer au where when you fall in love, a little heart shows up on your body, in totally random places, and Spencer falls in love for the first time with Brendon during like idk nothing rhymes with circus tour and the heart is like this cute thing that shows up on HIS FACE somewhere (like under his eye, on his cheek, or up high on his forehead) and he’s so embarrassed by it and it takes Brendon like two months and a lot of laughing from Ryan for him to figure out that Spencer is in love with him" I keep filling my own prompts. Enjoy. | The fact that the title came from a Marina song made me love this fic even more.

- And the world has its shine (but I would drop it on a dime for you) by AbsolutelyNothing and peachypunk | E, 165889, In Victorian-ish times, The Smith family has served the wealthy Urie family for generations. Being so close in age, Brendon and Spencer become best friends and, over time, the rich, Omega socialite, Brendon, starts to fall for his personal, Alpha servant, Spencer. | A/B/O is a concept I was first introduced to on AO3. Like, it’s all the werewolf AUs without the turning into a wolf part, and it’s developed into its own thing.

- *Need You Wild by fallintosilence and boweryd | E, 105K+, Spencer's a werewolf! A sexy werewolf! Okay, really, Spencer is a newly turned, slightly confused werewolf who can't figure out why Brendon smells so good all the time. Or why Spencer can't seem to stop acting like he is 16-years-old, what with all the blushing and stuttering around Brendon and the constant jerking off. Fear not, though, gentle reader, because it turns out Brendon is totally on board with having a werewolf boyfriend. And with having lots and lots of sex. | Werewolves are sort of cool. There’s a lot of p0rn in here, though.

Joncer

This pairing is used as a side for Ryan/Brendon and I really think it deserves its own time in the spotlight more often. It’s after brencer in popularity because it’s mostly shafted off as a side pairing and not the main one.

- Kick It Back by afterthefair | E, 6103, Spencer thinks the girls fall into a few distinct categories: the ones who either haven’t heard the news or don’t care, the ones who want to convert him, and the ones who shout “Kiss! Kiss!” every time he and Jon get within a foot of each other. | Coming out fic.

- Median by strangecobwebs | E, 23356, Jon first learned about the Kinsey scale when he was about seventeen. And if zero is completely heterosexual, and six is completely homosexual? Jon Walker is a three. So very much a three. |

- If It Kills Me by foxxcub | E, 16928, Spencer Smith knows there must be a catch when Jon Walker − his despised FBI partner − offers to transfer out of Chicago and far, far away from him. There's a catch, all right: Spencer has to spend one sexy night with the untamed playboy. Okay, so the guy's hot. So his reputation in the bedroom is the stuff of legend. So Spencer's been in a dry spell for, oh, over a year. So maybe one night to be rid of him isn't so unbearable. But once the sheets have cooled, Spencer's just starting to heat up, and moving away is the last thing on Jon's mind...FBI AU. Plot and summary stolen shamelessly from Erin McCarthy's novella Miss Extreme Congeniality. Title stolen from Jason Mraz. | This is another fic for the to-reread list.

- Let the Future Come into Each Moment by saramir | E, 27277, In which Spencer turns thirty, Jon is even more affectionate toward him than usual, and Ryan & Brendon are writing (and arguing about) a plant-themed album. Set on tour, 2017, after a failed album and failed relationships, all while the four of them have stuck together, and then some. | Future fics always hurt a little, because nobody could have predicted the split.

- Jon’s Bookstore (A Few of My Favorite Things) by foxxcub | M, 11235, A funeral is really the wrong place to learn you've inherited a business. |

- The Bootstrap Paradox and Other Tips for Finding True Love by mokuyoubi | E, 41829, In response to the harlequin_bands challenge: Swept from her dismal present in the 1990s (facing unemployment and the singles scene), Phoebe Turlow takes a wrong turn at a hotel (while attending a “free” vacation in the Caribbean, sponsored by a condo company) and winds up in the seventeenth century in the company of a sexy, witty pirate named Duncan Rourke. As if Rourke does not have enough to do fighting the British in the American Revolution, he has to determine whether short haired, strange speaking Phoebe is a spy, a witch, or worse. Instead, he falls in love with her. Okay, so Ryan was going to be Phoebe and Brendon Duncan, except then somehow Spencer and Jon took over the story, and so this really tells the story of Phoebe and Duncan’s best friends. Oh, also changed it to the eighteenth century, since I’m *pretty* sure that’s when the American Revolution actually took place…*shrug* | The 18th century is when the American Revolution really took place, because the century numbers versus actual year numbers are sort of misleading.

- Catnip by rockme | T, 7187, One day while smoking, Jon hears a distant meow. | No, but seriously, this fic is basically about weed actually turning people into cats. 

- *Anywhere, Say Anywhere (As Long As I’m with You) by hidingoutside | E, Unknown, As the head of guest services at Oakhart Ranch, Jon Walker's supposed to make sure everything's running as smoothly as possible, even when Spencer Smith, former rodeo champion, comes rolling into town to help his former mother-in-law keep the ranch from going under. Jon's never heard anything good about Spencer, but Spencer's never anything but helpful and generally awesome to Jon and his infant daughter. Suddenly living on in the middle of nowhere Wyoming doesn't seem so bad... |

Rycer

I used to dislike this pairing. Not like, absolutely hate, but I had the tendency to avoid it.

- Mistletoe by amethyst__angel | T, 1191, Christmas is supposed to be a time for love, for friendship, for presents and accidentally walking under the mistletoe with your best-friend-since-forever... | I might be typing this on December 27th, but I started compiling this list before Christmas, so it’s fine.

- Further Down the Road by zarah5 | T, 7029, The sketch of a full moon is sitting next to yesterday’s date, and twenty-eight days, Spencer thinks. Twenty-eight days. He could be wrong, of course, but… He doesn’t know why it makes a twisted kind of sense mostly because it’s Ryan, but it does. | .

- Tearing Down the Toy City by roebling and rubblerousing | M, 52864, "What I'm trying to say, Spence, is that if you don't like the way things are going, that's fine, but if you're nostalgic for five years ago, you better give up. 2001 is not coming back. You and Ryan were never going to be fourteen forever. I think you need to figure out what you want." | There’s a mixed bag of fics in this tag, but the hurty ones are always the most well-written.

- Through All Kinds of Weather by Marks | E, 28994, Ryan gets sick and pushes himself too hard. Enter Spencer and his world of denial. | .

- His Executive Sweetheart (I’ll Put The Coffee On) by sunsetmog | M, 34252, As a bored but efficient executive assistant, Ryan Ross wasn't supposed to have fallen madly, hopelessly in love with his boss. Especially when his boss was business mogul and confirmed bachelor (and old childhood friend) Spencer Smith. His best friends were convinced that only one thing would get Spencer to notice him, and that was a makeover. But if he lets them have their way, then how is Ryan to ever really know for sure if Spencer likes Ryan for real? | .

Jon/Brendon

What...is the ship name for this? Also, I only have one rec for this pairing. I’m not a fan of this pairing, for some reason. I just...don’t quite understand it? Either way. One rec.

- (Panic! at the Disco Almost Changed Their Name to) Fuzzy Kitten Cuddle Time by dsudis | E, 14407, In which Jon Walker is sometimes a kitten. | Kittens.

Endnotes

Poly reclist coming up next. There are a lot of fics on that list.

(Edit 11/5/19: Fixed a broken link.)

[ethospathoslogan]

heavy crown, heavy heart: part three; a royalty!logince/sanders sides fanfic

A/N: so this was originally going to be a side part but, since it is in the canon timeline and goes into things i mentioned in the previous chapter, i decided to make it an actual chapter!!! this is just some sibling bonding bc it is a dynamic i wanted to go into and also important!!! 

summary: Roman cared for his brothers. His mother, when he was still young and adapting to not being the main center of attention anymore, preached familial values. With her passing and his relationship with his father growing more and more strained, he emphasized his focus on getting along with his brothers. They fought, yes, as brothers do; sometimes Patton’s heightened sensitivity and Virgil’s knack at being extremely grating was tiring, but overall, Roman could not imagine the castle without them. Living a life where everyone seemed ready to use him for their own personal fortunes, it was pleasant to have two people who understood exactly what Roman experienced.

ships: the fic itself is logince, but this chapter has no ship

WC: 5,639

content: mentions of anxiety & possible depression, major mention of family death

masterlist!!!

previous chapter!!!

read on ao3!!!

tag list: @definentlynotjustanotherlemon , @peachie-keeen , @red-the-ruler , @syndianites , @mirror2thespirit , @ravenclawunicorn1, @urte1108 , @monikastec , @princeyssash , @princelogical

Roman had been sitting by candlelight, a book gifted to him by Logan open on his lap and one of his fingers absentmindedly playing with the corner of a page, when he heard one of doors further down the wing be pushed open. The hinges slowly creaked, as if the person had wished to make a quiet escape and failed.

The Prince looked up and narrowed his eyes. Glancing at the clock at his wall, he saw it was well past one in the morning. Everyone else had already gone to their beds hours ago, or at least it was what Roman had assumed. Roman was typically the one who stayed awake well into the night and preferred to sleep into late morning, much to the chagrin of his father and his father’s adviser, who believed that the eldest prince should be up the earliest to get a start on the day’s activities.

However, Roman knew it was also not uncommon for his brothers to wake in the middle of the night. Roman had caught Patton multiple times sneaking out of his own room to visit the gardens when they were undisturbed by the bustle of humans. Roman would always let him past, he refused to stop his brother when he wished for one moment of true solidarity, but would inevitably have to tell the guards for the night shift that, no, the person they were seeing wandering the garden was not an intruder but, in fact, a prince.

As Roman heard tired footsteps trek down the corridor, his mind travelled to his other brother. Virgil, Roman believed, slept the least out of all of them, it evident with the dark circles constantly under his eyes. Ever since he was a child, the youngest prince had been plagued with night terrors and terrible anxieties. Without their mother alive and their father emotionally present, Roman, as a child, took it upon himself to comfort his brother. The castle staff, specifically whatever nurse they had at the time, saw it as some form of adorable brotherly bonding, and that once Roman left, an adult would take over and handle the situation properly. However, Roman’s true reasoning was because his mother took it upon herself to be the primary caretaker of her children. She did not believe in being detached from her children and would rather them be following her around all day, clinging to her skirts, than them be forming a better bond with a nurse.

In Roman’s eyes, the least he could do for his mother, and his brother, was be there for them.

When the tired footsteps stopped in front of Roman’s door, he was positive that it was Virgil and not Patton. He kept his eyes on the door, waiting for the knock. Virgil had the tendency to be extremely reclusive, and if Roman opened the door now and ushered him in, there was a huge possibility of Virgil just turning around and retreating to his room.

Finally, after long enough that Roman started to think that maybe it was not Virgil and that whoever it was had left, there was the softest of knocks on his door. He bookmarked his page, not wanting to crease any of the pages of Logan’s books, before standing and opening his door. Virgil stood on the other side of it, looking anywhere but at Roman. His eyes were gaunt and something in Roman twinged at seeing how completely exhausted his brother looked.

“Cannot sleep?” Roman asked. Virgil shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Roman stepped aside and opened the door wider, and Virgil wordlessly stepped in. He slumped tiredly into one of Roman’s chairs, staring through his bangs and out the window at the moon hanging in the night sky.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Roman leaned on the wall next to Virgil, staring down at him.

“Not really,” Virgil mumbled and Roman nodded, returning to his own chair not too far from Virgil.

Occasionally, when Virgil could not sleep, he came to Roman’s room. Roman’s childhood tradition of being a caretaker for his brother had not faded in adolescence and, on nights when Virgil’s insomnia reached peak frustration, he often went to find his eldest brother. It was not that Patton was no help; hell, sometimes Roman found himself relying on Patton for help. It was just that, when coming to Roman’s room, Virgil would not be bombarded with questions the moment he walked in. As Virgil sat in the same vicinity, Roman would return to whatever he previously had been doing and either wait for Virgil to initiate the conversation himself or wait for him to return to his room again.

Despite the fact that Roman and Virgil argued much more than either of them did with Patton, Roman understood not wanting to explain every thought in his head. He understood just wanting to sit near someone so that the world did not seem so large and him so infinitely small.

Roman cared for his brothers. His mother, when he was still young and adapting to not being the main center of attention anymore, preached familial values. With her passing and his relationship with his father growing more and more strained, he emphasized his focus on getting along with his brothers. They fought, yes, as brothers do; sometimes Patton’s heightened sensitivity and Virgil’s knack at being extremely grating was tiring, but overall, Roman could not imagine the castle without them. Living a life where everyone seemed ready to use him for their own personal fortunes, it was pleasant to have two people who understood exactly what Roman experienced.

“I will be here if you need anything,” Roman said, retrieving his book from where he left it. He flipped back open to where he left off, flicking his eyes back to wear Virgil was and saw him, still, keeping his eyes on the starry sky. A deeper concern twisted in Roman’s gut. He knew of his brother’s trouble with sleeping and of his excessive worries, but something about him seemed off, and more than usual.

Roman attempted to return to reading his book, but Virgil had begun tapping erratically on the arm of the chair and the dull, quick tapping along with his brooding atmosphere pulled too much at Roman’s mind. Typically, the tapping irked him and he usually had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything, because he knew it was just a nervous tick that his brother was barely conscious of, but now it was different. Frankly, he was too concerned to be annoyed.

Roman glanced back up at Virgil and, this time, Virgil looked back. Roman quickly looked away and Virgil sighed.

“I am exhausted,” Virgil finally said.

“Would you like to try sleeping again?” Roman asked. “You are free to stay here, I do not plan on sleeping anytime soon.”

Virgil shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up and away from his face. “No, it is not that,” he said. He worried his bottom lip and Roman, frowning, put his book back down.

“Then what is it?” Roman asked before quickly following with, “You do not have to tell me if you are not comfortable, Virgil.”

Virgil huffed out a deep sigh again and stared up into the high ceiling. “I am exhausted, Roman,” he said. “All these fears and worries that I have just feel like they are consuming me. Sometimes I think that they are choking me, and that the world might as well be ending.”

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed and he shifted his chair closer. “What are you scared of? I do not think that there is anything in this castle that can harm you.”

“That is exactly it,” Virgil said, scratching at his cuticles. “Everything just seems… off. As if something is not sitting right. I… I understand that there is probably nothing in this castle that can do anything. But I still cannot shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong, that there is something I should be preparing myself for. I thought that it was because Logan and his family were coming back, and it would be the first time in a while that we have had guests stay for more than a few days but…” He trailed off and Roman cocked his head.

“You still feel the same way,” Roman finished for him. Virgil hesitated before nodding. “Virgil, I am sure that there is something we can do for you. Perhaps the apothecary has something, or-”

Virgil shook his head vehemently. “No, no, we cannot do that,” he rushed out.

“Why? If there is someone who can help you, I think that it would be best-”

“No one can know that something is wrong,” Virgil said, his words so quick that Roman’s mind almost did not process them. “Father is already stressed enough as it is, and to go out for an apothecary would draw attention, and I do not want anyone to know that I am the freak of this family-”

“Virgil,” Roman interrupted, his voice stern. Virgil tensed at his sudden tone change and snapped his mouth shut. “Do not ever say that about yourself,” he continued. “What you are experiencing does not make you odd. You are a tad more fearful than most, that is all. It does not make you bad or wrong. Plus, it is not like myself and Patton are without our eccentricities.”

“But…” Virgil sighed. “I already worry too many people because I do not sleep and I panic. I cannot be more of a burden than I already am.”

“Who said you are a burden?” Roman asked with a raised eyebrow. “We all worry about you because we care. If you believe anything I say, believe that. Oh, sure, you can be quite irritating at times with the fact that you always have some snarky thing to say and can never let me have the last word, which should be rightfully mine-” Virgil snorted and Roman could not help but smile, “-But you are still my brother.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Virgil said, giving a small smile. However, when his eyes flicked back to his hands and he still looked rather uncomfortable in his seat, Roman had a feeling that there was still more his brother had to say.

“Is there anything else?” Roman asked, not wanting to push but also not wanting to sound like he was dismissing his brother.

Virgil frowned and did not say anything for a couple of moments. He clenched his hands into fists and unclenched multiple times, retreating back to looking at everything in Roman’s room besides Roman. “It is really stupid,” he finally said.

“I assure you it is not,” Roman said before breaking out into a grin. “Besides, I am enjoying being the brother who is able to give emotional support. Typically, I am just there as the pretty face and the occasional clever and witty comment, but now-”

“I took our mother away from you,” Virgil interrupted and Roman’s words died in his throat.

Roman blinked a few times at his brother. Virgil’s words washed over him in waves that started to bring too many memories back. “What?” he finally choked out.

“I took our mother away from you,” Virgil repeated. “She died having me, and you should hate me for that. I hear the way you speak of her, every amazing and wonderful thing she was. And I took that away from you, and I do not know why you have forgiven me for that.”

Roman stared at his brother, finding himself at a loss for words.

Roman was six. His mother was pregnant and expecting soon, and he was excited for this one. He was not when Patton was first born. He did not like not being the sole deserver of his mother’s attention. But his mother had told him that now he had another child to play with, and Roman grew to love the bouncing toddler. Now, he was ready to be the eldest. His mother told him that now, with two younger siblings, he would have to be the best role model for them that he could be.

Roman was six and very excited. He showed his mother all the toys he could share with Patton and the new baby, fumbling blocks that spelled his name (he was missing the letter M) and figures and marbles in his small hands. She smiled down at him and her bright blue eyes shone and Roman felt safe. His mother was warm and soft and was a lot less scarier than his father, sitting one-thousand miles up on his throne. Roman told his mother he did not know how he could get high enough to reach it. She laughed and told him that he would, she would make sure of it.

Roman was six and it was a bright and warm day when one of the servants screamed down the corridor that they needed the medic. The baby was coming three weeks earlier than everyone else thought. The family medic had had to return to his own home for a family emergency, but he told his father and mother that he would be back in time. Roman did not know why he lied. His father’s adviser and some of the guards had to be sent out into the city to fetch one of the local medics. Patton cried at the commotion and Roman held his hand and gave him one of his miniature horse figurines. It had wheels and the two wheeled it back and forth in Roman’s room as people outside ran back and forth. He told Patton that they should be happy, they were going to have another person to play with, and that mother was excited for them to be the best older brothers ever.

Roman was six when his father told them that their mother died. Died. A four letter word that Roman did not like. He heard it used about soldiers that did not go back to their families. Or about the city, like when Roman heard the knights talking about a fight breaking out in the streets and how someone died. But never for his mother. She was his mother. His mother was not supposed to die when Roman still had so much to show her. He and Patton finally found the M block underneath one of his chairs.

Roman was six when their nurse, the one that his mother did not want but their father insisted upon, showed them the baby wrapped in a blanket and said that his name was Virgil. He did not look anything like their mother. No red hair and his eyes had too much brown in them. Patton, who did not understand fully what happened, gave the baby his finger to hold. Roman, who did understand, ran away and cried in his room.

Roman was six and, despite everything, Roman was alone. The throne towered over him. He did not know how he could reach it now.

After sixteen years, Roman still wondered if he was falling too short.

Roman was too surprised by Virgil’s words to pay mind to the tears that had sprung to his eyes. “V-Virgil,” he managed out. His voice was choked and he rubbed at his eyes. “You… you did not take her from me.”

“Yes, I did,” Virgil insisted. “I know that you needed her then. I think you still do, Roman. Everything you say of her… she was warm, and soft, and bright. I… I know that you do not get along with our father. We all have our disagreements with him, even Patton, but for you… something is different. There is something tenser between you two that I do not think would be there if our mother was still here. I just keep thinking that I took away the parent you needed, and I do not understand why you do not hate me.”

Roman gaped at his brother. He would be the first to admit that, even after sixteen years, he missed his mother more than anything. However, knowing that Virgil had blamed himself this entire time and expected Roman to hate him -oh God how long has he thought this?- is what Roman found himself more upset by. He learned to cope and accept his mother’s death, he could not do the same for Virgil blaming himself.

“Virgil,” Roman finally said. “I… I could never blame you. You… it was not you that took her away. I do not think anyone did. She… I think she was under a lot more stress than she let on, and maybe she was in more pain, too, but her death was not your fault. You never did anything wrong, and you still have not. And the fact that you think that I could hate you for that?” Roman shook his head in disbelief. “Virgil, that is insane. If I hated you, I would not have just given you this long speech about how we all care about you. If I hate you, I probably would have said something along the lines of be afraid that I will hit you, because I can be an asshole like that.”

Virgil let out a laugh that sounded more like a watery cough, and Roman pretended to not notice how he rubbed at his eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

“I am so sorry, Roman,” Virgil said, shaking his head. He tilted his head away and Roman saw a tear or two escape and tread down Roman’s face, but he called no attention to it.

“You do not have to be,” Roman assured. “We have all moved forward, and, yes, we miss her, but we also learned to cope. No one here hates you because there is no reason to, and if anyone ever says anything, or has said anything, you send them to me, okay?” Virgil nodded and sniffed, rubbing at his eyes again. “And, please, do not let this be something you lose sleep over. Pretty people should be what does that, not things that are not your fault.”

Virgil sighed and swallowed thickly. “Okay,” he said quietly. The conversation then trailed off and Roman started to think that Virgil was getting ready to leave when his brother said, “Speaking of people that you find, to quote, pretty, you and Lo-”

Roman was quick to cut his brother off, “You are pushing your limits, and I suggest that you either stop talking or prepare for me to kick you out in the next two seconds.”

Virgil laughed but did not say anything more.

--

Patton and their father had gotten into an argument that morning. Roman had believed he was up far too early (their guests were still resting in the comfort of their beds, why did he have to be up?), and was bitterly nursing a cup of coffee in the parlor adjacent to the throne room, when the fight started. Even through the walls, he heard words like “over excited” and “melancholic” and “mature” and “Patton, I expect more of you than these ever changing emotions”, and Roman believed that he could accurately piece together what his father was nagging Patton about. He could not hear what Patton was saying, but from his father’s disappointed reactions, he assumed that whatever Patton was feeling was getting the best of him.

Finally, after a couple minutes of Roman eavesdropping, being disappointed that he could not hear everything properly, and then feeling guilty about eavesdropping in the first place, the throne room door swung open and out walked Patton. Roman watched as Patton began to walk past, and did not miss how he frantically wiped at his eyes, though when Patton finally caught his brother staring, he straightened as if nothing was happening and forced a grin that did not meet his eyes.

“Oh, Roman,” Patton said, his voice artificially cheerful. “Good morning, I did not expect to see you up so soon.”

“I am improving my skills of being a responsible adult,” Roman said, setting his now empty cup on one of the table’s coasters. “Are you alright, Patton? I believe it is a bit early for our father to be berating us.”

“Oh, that?” Patton questioned and forced a laugh. “Do not worry, that was nothing. Just… just an average conversation.”

Roman did not believe him at all. “It sounded a bit more than average,” he pressed.

“Well, it was not,” Patton said, his tone suddenly tired and clipped. “I have to go to my room.”

Roman blinked at his brother as he walked away. “Okay, then,” he huffed out.

For a while, Roman let Patton be on his own. As much as he felt ashamed to admit it, he did not know what to do with Patton and his obvious hidings of something troubling him. Usually, it was Virgil who went to Roman or Patton, depending on the situation, Patton who helped, and Roman who went to Patton with petty, dramatic problems. Occasionally, when intoxicated and rather melancholic, Roman rambled about everything that troubled him to his brother and then, in the morning, he acted as if nothing was ever wrong in the first place.

Roman realized with a sinking feeling that Patton rarely came to either Roman or Virgil. Over the years, Roman had seen Patton in foul moods and, even when he offered his ear to Patton, his younger brother never complied.

He began to run through everything in his mind. He tried to see if he could find something that would give Patton reason to not trust either of his brothers. If there was something that he or Virgil had said, or a fight that was left unresolved, but all that Roman could remember was forced smiles and Patton claiming that nothing was wrong, that nothing was ever wrong.

At half past noon, Roman decided it was time that he did something. The castle was now alive, everyone jostling through with activities for the day, meals to prepare, training to be done, but Patton had yet to leave his room. Roman decided that now was the time to go confront his brother; now was when they would not be disturbed by anyone else. Their father had meetings all throughout the day, and Virgil and Logan just headed to the library to look over books and journals together.

Roman approached Patton’s door and, with only slight hesitation, softly knocked. “Patton?” he called through. “It is Roman.”

On the other side of the door, there was a long enough silence that Roman considered that Patton was possibly sleeping, or perhaps he had left his room and Roman had not noticed. When Roman thought about either knocking again or walking away, a small voice finally said, “Come in.”

Roman pushed his brother’s door open and found Patton seated in one of his chairs, looking out the window. It seemed that his eyes were not actually seeing anything, and he did not turn to look at Roman when he entered.

“I just wanted to check in on you after this morning,” Roman said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “You seemed… troubled.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton said. His tone was quite unsettling to Roman; usually, Patton was bright and cheerful, his words bringing light back into the castle when there was none. Though, Patton now, just sounded so… tired, so dejected. “But I am fine.”

Roman did not believe him, but he did not know if pressing would do either of them any good. “Would you like to go outside, then?” he asked. “It is probably one of the most beautiful days of the season, and you are keeping yourself in here.” When Patton looked doubtful and ready to reject Roman’s idea, he quickly continued, “We could go to the garden. I know how much you like to go there. No one else would be there.”

Patton considered for a minute, and when Roman feared that he would just be dismissed, Patton sighed and stood. “I think that will be nice,” he said and Roman grinned.

“Perfect,” Roman beamed. “Well, onwards then! We have not a moment to waste of this beautiful day.”

Roman lead Patton out of his bedroom, falling into step besides his brother as they walked. Something about Patton still seemed so off, so reserved, but Roman believed it to be a victory to have been able to convince his brother to join him. He did not want to ruin it by forcing Patton to speak when he was not ready.

Fortunately, when they arrived at the garden, Roman was correct in saying that no one else would be there. He let Patton decide where they would sit, and Patton chose a bench situated in the shade under one of the trees. The flowers bloomed brightly in front of them and small groups of butterflies flitted from each on.

“It really is wonderful out,” Patton quietly commented as they sat down.

“It is,” Roman agreed. “I could not simply let you sit inside all day.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton said. “I just get so… off sometimes, and I just isolate myself. I know it is not particularly the best thing to do, but sometimes it seems like the only thing to do.”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Patton sighed and carded a hand through his hair. “I get so melancholy sometimes, Roman,” he started, staring ahead of them at the flowers. “I just sometimes start feeling as if the light in the world has gone out and that there is nothing left than to just let things pass. Honestly, it is quite draining. I fall into these moods where I feel like I am trapped in this… hopeless trance. I force myself to put on a smile and laugh because it is what people expect of me, but I feel like I am just lying to everyone. That this is all some huge play and I have to constantly wear a mask to please everyone.”

Roman frowned and turned fully to face his brother. “Patton, I… I did not know that you felt like this.”

Patton forced out a laugh that sounded more pained than not. “Because I did not want you to,” he said. Roman pretended as if that did not sting. “I did not want anyone to know. Not you, not Virgil nor our father, anyone. We live such luxurious lives where we can have what we choose. There are so many people who are truly hurting and suffering, and here I am, Prince Patton Sanders, moping about because I am sad more often than not.”

“Patton, you do not have to think that,” Roman said. “It does not matter how you live. That does not change how you feel. There will always be people suffering more, and people suffering less. If you based your feelings solely off of other people, you would only drive yourself to exhaustion and madness. I am not a profession, but I do not think it is healthy to hold in what you feel. Virgil and I are here for you when you are overcome with these melancholic thoughts. You are allowed to feel them, and what you feel, while painful, yes, is real and should not be ignored.”

Patton shook his head. “But it is not who I am supposed to be Roman,” he said, his lower lip wobbling. “I am just going to end up disappointing everyone.”

“Disappointing us?” Roman questioned. “Patton, you could never-”

“Yes, I could, Roman!” Patton exclaimed, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I am supposed to be put together and cheerful. It is what people expect of me. Everyone expects me to be the perfect son who keeps our father happy and is the mediator for you and Virgil. I am not supposed to be so sad and… empty. When I am, I force myself to be this over excited person so that people do not see me be unfit in the one thing I am meant to do.” He let out a wet laugh and shook his head. “I am already disappointing our father and, soon, everyone else.”

“Patton,” Roman sighed and, slowly, carefully, placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Do not say that. Just because you and father had an… an argument, it does not mean that you disappointed him.”

“Oh, really?” Patton asked. “So him telling me that I need to mature is not disappointing him? Him telling me that I need to sedate these ever changing emotions, that I need to get a firm grip on myself? Him telling me that it is time for me to be responsible and reliable, and not so childish? That is all not disappointing him? That is not being the son that everyone expects me to be? You said it yourself, Roman, I am supposed to be the son that makes our father proud, the son that does everything he is told and the one that our father listens to.”

“He was clearly talking to Roman and I, Patton. You cannot do anything wrong in his eyes.”

“That is not true.”

“Of course it is! You could spit in the Duke’s face and our father would ban him from the kingdom for offending you.”

“Roman-”

“Ask for anything and it is yours, that is the way it has always been. Do you think that, if Patton asked our father to call off whatever marriage he had planned for me, he would do it?”

“Roman, stop.”

Roman suddenly felt like a complete and utter asshole. “Patton, I-I am so sorry,” Roman stammered out, struggling to find words. He and his brothers had fought before, yes, but Roman never wanted to be the person that hurt one of them.

Patton shook his head. “No, I am sorry,” he sighed. “You did not know, it is unfair of me to put this on you.”

“No, Patton, that is completely fair,” Roman pushed. “I… I hurt you. I made you feel like you had to live up to these expectations. Even if it was not entirely me making you feel like this, I played a part, and you can be mad. You should be mad. Lord knows anyone else would be.”

Patton sighed a deep, shuddering breath and rubbed at his eyes again. “You did not purposely intend to do that, Roman,” he said. “I cannot be mad at you if you did not intend it. Well, I can, but it feels wrong. I just… I do not want to worry people. I want to be what people want me to be and help everyone else. I feel like, if I start showing people what I truly am, I am just going to burden people.”

Roman shook his head. “Patton, what people expect you to be is human,” he said. “I think people would be more worried if you were happy all the time. You are a living, human being. You are allowed to feel sad and aggravated and everything else that may not be as delightful as being happy. Whatever you feel is real. You are allowed to feel how you do, and you are allowed to be your own person. If you spend your entire life just trying to live up to unfair expectations, you are just going to end up unhappy. And as your brother, I do not think I could handle seeing you live an unhappy life.”

Patton smiled and rubbed away one last tear that fell out of his eyes. “Thank you, Roman.”

Roman smiled back. “You do not have to thank me,” he said. “And you know that myself and Virgil are here for you too, yes? I know that we tend to come to you a lot with our many, many problems, but that does not mean that you cannot do the same to us. The three of us have to have each other’s backs, which means that we cannot let you be suffering alone.”

Surprisingly, Roman had not expected Patton to throw himself at Roman in a hug. “Thank you,” he mumbled into Roman’s shoulder and Roman smiled, giving Patton a tight squeeze back.

“Of course,” Roman said as the two pulled away. “Trust me, in a castle where we are surrounded by adults, I think we need to be there for each other.”

Patton smiled. “But Roman, you are also an adult.”

Roman sighed and threw his head back. “Patton, do not ruin this moment by reminding me of my responsibilities and of my mortality,” he groaned and Patton laughed. He then looked back at his brother. “And you know you can tell me if I am saying too much bullshit, right? I am not sure if you have noticed, but I have the habit of just speaking without applying thought to what I am saying. There needs to be someone to reign me in, and it cannot be Virgil, because I might hit him.”

Patton laughed again. “I will make sure to let you know,” he said, looking back towards the garden.

“Now, should we leave all this sentimentality behind and return to enjoying the day?” Roman asked. “I am hoping that this is making you feel… somewhat better.”

Patton nodded. “We should, and it is,” he said. “Thank you, Roman.”

Roman beamed. “You do not have to keep thanking me, it is just what I do,” he said.

Roman knew that he could not always be the best brother, and perhaps sometimes not even a good brother. But, damn it all, he was going to try and support his brothers as much as they support him; it was the least he could do.