dredpirate-fic-recs

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

You’re a villain. You steal things. You have a territory that you rule with an iron fist. You live in the sewers, and have caused several people to disappear down here. You’re the bad guy. So why, pray tell, is the city sending down ambassadors to discuss your management of public services?

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

The good news: Soulmates are real.

The bad news: Reincarnation is also real, and the vast majority of souls on Earth are not presently incarnated as humans. If you are a living human, statistically your soulmate is currently some sort of beetle, or possibly a small salt-water crustacean.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Steve convinced Dustin that the bat bites made him psychic by predicting what Eddie is going to do next. He gets it right every time but it’s not any special skill. It’s just that Eddie is really predictable.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

fake relationship but its a king and his concubine that was once an amazing soldier but he couldn’t go up the ranks for whatever reason so the king was like listen. hear me out. you can be my strategy dude. u just gotta be okay w walking around shirtless a lot. and soldier dude is like man that’s an UPSIDE and yknow they end up falling in love

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Their campaign had just ended when Steve poked his head into the room. "Kids! Let's go!"

Eddie glanced up, smirking. "Your chauffeur awaits."

"What can I say?" Steve shrugged. "Im everyones favorite ride."

Steve froze, eyes wide. "Car ride. Obviously. Thats what.. uh–"

He flushed, muttered something and nearly tripped as he rushed out of the room.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Domini!! You know I do so love a Milo/Sweetheart fic. If you were so inclined, how would you feel about writing the pair with 17. noticing their individual quirks?

No pressure, and I'm always happy to read anything you wish to share. Thanks for your consideration!

ROMI!! Okay, for you I'm going to try to do this. haha I love how you also picked something sooooo character intricate. Way to make it a challenge! Okay, okay, I place this little sweetheart/milo fic in your mailbox like a love letter. I hope you like it!!! <3 <3 <3

milo/sweetheart

"Have you noticed that you always do that?"

Milo tore his eyes off the screen long enough to catch them watching him. He smiled. "Do what, sweetheart?"

They shifted on the couch to put their back into the corner and their legs across his thighs. His hand moved immediately to their hip. "You chew your lip when the movie is tense. You also do it when you're driving..."

He laughed. "Look at you paying attention..."

"I'm a very perceptive person."

Milo shrugged a shoulder. "I mean... It took you a while to notice that one."

Sweetheart laughed and nudged his shoulder. "I know more about you than you do about me."

He grinned and shook his head. "Not even close."

"Do you want to bet?"

"You always make bets. You have a bet going with everyone you know," he said, getting his point in first.

"You can't whistle."

He gasped in mock offense and looked at them. "Fuck you. Of course I can."

"Do it."

"..."

They smirked.

"You have a cat instagram."

Sweetheart's eyes went huge with real shock. "I..."

"You could say Aggro has an instagram, but we both know who's taking the pictures and writing in his first person..."

They blushed. "How long have you known?"

Milo grinned and looked forward again, watching the show they'd been binging on their day off. He liked these days--the ones where they just stayed in together and did nothing in particular. They were both so busy most of the time, that going nowhere felt special.

After a minute, Sweetheart scooched in closer, their head landing on his shoulder.

He snuck an arm behind them, half-hugging them to him.

They turned their face up and he thought they might kiss his cheek, instead they said, "You snore."

He whipped his head to the side to stare at them. "Bullshit."

They smiled.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

hiii for the pairingss

sam and darlin as 14/24

ANON!!! Yes! I love the choices you are making. 14 and 24 are "looking at their lips as they talk" and "trying to figure out if they're available" and I am so excited to go for this! Thank you so much for the ask. <3 <3 Hope you're having an amazing weekend.

Sam/Darlin

This ended up being a sneak peek at what I'm planning to get to in the non-magical college au!

-

"Follow my fingers," he said, hand moving in front of their face.

They grinned, gaze still a little unfocused. "Follow them where?"

Sam stopped, blinked, and then frowned to hide the smile that almost pulled free. "You might have a concussion."

"Your voice is pretty."

"You definitely have a concussion."

They laughed and waved him off. "I'm fine. Really."

"You went out a window."

They looked somewhat surprised by that and he realized, to his horror, that they didn't remember it happening.

-

Darlin was about to call the beautiful stranger out of his lie when they looked around and realized they were sitting on the lawn. The window was shattered and half the party had spilled out the front door onto the yard. There was even an ambulance. Had they passed out? David and Asher were talking a mile a minute to a cop.

"Hey," the beautiful voice called again.

They looked at him. "Are you a paramedic?"

His mouth twitched again, in that way that suggested he was trying to stay serious. "Yeah... Did the uniform, the gloves, or the ambulance give it away?"

They laughed. "Sorry. Really, I'm good." They tried to get up but his face lit with worry and his arms shot out to stop them, gloved hands on their arms to keep them in place.

"Woah there. We agreed you'd sit still."

"We did?"

"Jesus."

He really did talk pretty. Where was he from? His nametag said Sam.

"We should take you to the hospital. You've got some superficial cuts from the glass and a concussion."

"I don't have a concussion. I just need some band aids."

"You might need some stitches."

Darlin scrunched up their face. "I don't think so."

"You didn't know you went through a window, so excuse me if we're not going to follow your medical opinion tonight..." His mouth was so beautiful.

Darlin smiled. "Okay. Counter offer. I agree to sit in the back of your ambulance for a bit, you give me a few stitches as you see fit, and I'll convince you I don't have a concussion."

Sam held there gaze, seeming to consider it for a minute.

"I'm bleeding, Sam," they reminded, holding up one arm and pointing at a cut, pouting.

His mouth tightened again, fighting not to smile.

He relented with a swear and nodded. "Okay. Let me help you to the ambulance."

They played along, letting him hold their arm and go slowly to the nearby vehicle. The party crowd from the house gave a cheer when they were on their feet again and Darlin gave their friends a quick wave, blowing a kiss before being ducked into the ambulance.

They sat on the bed and let the paramedic help them out of their jacket to get a better look at them. "So...Sam...Got any other plans tonight?"

He paused to look at them. "Plans after...my shift?"

"Yeah? Do you...um...need to get home to...someone?" Fuck, maybe they did have a concussion.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth before he tamed it, tearing into a sterile swab pack. "Nope. No plans... no one I need to get home to. Are you trying to ask me out?"

Darlin smiled. "Maybe."

"Well, try again when you're not drunk and concussed."

"Possibly concussed," they corrected.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Headcanon that Jonathan doesn't like to be called Jon or Jonnie because it's too close to Lonnie. It's either Jonathan or nothing. . .he didn't realize there was another option until Steve called him Nate.

"Why?" Jonathan would blurt out.

"Yeah, it would be cute, don't you think? Nate and Nancy?" Steve said and smiled a crooked smile.

Steve stared at him with his wide, very expressive eyes, and Jonathan stared back for a moment. He turned on his heel and walked back to Nancy.

"Uh, yeah, you don't have to worry about choosing one of us, I think I'm in love with Steve, too," Jonathan said.

"What?!" Nancy asked.

"Also, I will accept Nate as a nickname," Jonathan said.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

I almost missed your post and I didn't understand why everyone were asking for fics 🥺

I would love to have number 27 with Sam / Darlin sharing a coat / blanket on a cold night, all sleepy and cuddly...

I wish you the very best and thank you so much for sharing your beautiful work 💞

- ❄️

I'm glad you found it, Anon!! Thank you for the ask and the super nice words! <3 <3

darlin/sam

early relationship, sharing a blanket

The wolf ran through the deep snow, from the woods to the cottage, shaking off as much of the ice as they could on the porch before shifting human and opening the door. The storm pushed them in and they swore when they used their weight to close the door.

"We're definitely snowed in and it looks like the power is out down through the valley," the said, shaking snow out of their hair and shivering. "Fuck, it's cold!"

Sam nodded, stacking another log onto the fire.

Darlin took a step closer to the living room, folding their arms against the cold. The heating had gone out this morning when the storm kicked in and the power went out.

They laughed at the state of the living room. Sam had been intent on getting a stack of wood inside and the fire raging. Now it looked like he'd dragged every blanket and pillow in the shack onto the stretch of floor in front of it, piled between the little couch and the coffee table he'd pushed off to the side. "What's going on here?" they asked, teeth already starting to chatter.

He shot them a look, frowning seriously. "Take off your boots and put those socks on."

Darlin laughed. "What?"

He had that cute crease in his brow that he got when he was worried. "It's cold."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"It's going to get colder."

Darlin grinned. "Are you saying we should...get warm, Sammy?"

He sputtered but closed the distance between them rather than circling floor away from them like he usually would when Darlin made some sort of innuendo. "It's going to get really cold, Darlin. You need to keep all the warmth you can. So, ditch the boots, put on the socks, and get in the blankets."

Darlin didn't move, liking just how close he was standing and the very serious face the cowboy was making. They'd been friends for months now, circling something more, but they respected that he wanted to go slow. Sometimes they thought he was going slow because of them, because he wasn't sure about them, or wasn't that interested, but maybe that was even more reason to keep things slow. Maybe they would never get anywhere beyond friends and if that was the case, that was okay too.

Sam raised an eyebrow at their stillness. "I will take your boots off for you if you--"

Darlin groaned and immediately toed off their boots, hating the idea of anyone helping them do anything. Rolling their eyes at him, they grabbed the thick socks he's laid out on the arm of a chair and marched across the nest he'd made on the floor. It was impossible not to smile again when they got to the other side, near the fire. "This is too fucking cute, Sammy. Are you worried I'm going to die?"

He joined them, moving the covers around and sitting next to them, pulling the stack of blankets up and around them both. Darlin was sitting cross-legged, pulling the extra socks on over their own. It was, admittedly, really damn cold.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Darlin looked over their shoulder at him. He was sitting really close. They smiled. "Always."

He scooted in, one arm curling around them to tug them back until they were sitting between his spread legs, their back to his chest. Darlin held their breath for a second, surprising by the intimate situation, by the nearness, and the ease Sam seemed to feel about it all. Or, at least, he was so completely focused on getting the blankets around them, cocooning them against the cold, that he hadn't thought about it.

When he was done, Darlin was reclined against his chest, his arms around their waist, his thighs pressed along the outside of theirs, and the fire casting light and warmth on their face. "You know, I wasn't going to die, right?" they said, but softly because they definitely weren't going to complain about this either.

He sighed, his breath against their cheek. "You don't worry enough about yourself."

"I've survived a lot, Sammy. I'm not fragile."

His arms tightened a little around them under all those covers. "You're strong," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean you're invincible." His voice was low, close to their ear. The storm howled outside and the fire crackled. "I'm not gonna stand here, watch'n you shiver, and assume you'll survive the night."

Darlin sighed, warmer already. "You sure you weren't just trying to find a reason to get me in your lap?" They smirked, waiting for his usual huff of uncomfortable laughter or sputter of pretend shock.

Instead, they felt him smile against their cheek. "I mean...It ain't a downside."

Darlin definitely felt warmer.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Robin accidentally puts a letter (meant to ask a girl out on a date) in the wrong locker. She waits, watching totally inconspicuously, except her crush walks up to the locker NEXT to the one she put it in. And dear old Eddie Munson strolls up to the same locker.

Robin watches as he unfolds the letter and blushes. She's immediately groaning and feels bad, because now this guy thinks someone likes him. And thats just mean but to confess and break his heart? She's missing lunch lamenting on the pay phone about the situation to Steve who is at Family Video.

Steve who has thought about Eddie for years. Captivated by the guy who will get up and yell on top of tables but also stopped and helped a freshman pick up all their papers when they dropped them. Steve who once got winked at by Eddie and felt his entire worldview shift.

"Well I'll go- yea, I can go in your place. Don't even worry about it." Steve offers. And Robin is so thankful she feels she would have combust spontaneously if she had to break Eddie's heart. Robin thinks Steve is gonna let him down gently. Meanwhile Steve is putting on his date jeans and adding a bit of lip gloss and winking in the mirror ready to charm the pants off eddie

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

when he was fifteen, butch deloria stitched three snakes on three jackets, one each for him and paul and wally. the snakes were the same but the markings weren’t, and with just one look, you’ll be able to identify the wearer.

but that was then. now, at nineteen, the jacket butch is wearing has the snake with brightest greens (paul’s favorite color) and it feels heavy on his back. now, butch looks at freddie in a jacket that’s a size too big, and remembers how naked wally had looked when he stormed out of the clinic wearing only the vault suit, how like a snake that had just shed its skin.

now, butch toys with the gun he stole from security, wondering what’s outside the vault. wondering, as he flicks the gun’s safety off and on and off again, if the doc’s kid is still alive, if they’re still wearing his jacket (the one with the sharpest fangs, dripping poison), and if they even knew how to take proper care of it, or if the leather had already begun peeling, and his stitches had already frayed and unraveled.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, here with another taste test. I'm here in 1976, and I'm gonna get some fries from Mickey D's before they changed the recipe, and then I'm gonna take 'em back to 2022, and get fries from the same McDonald's, so I can compare. Now, I've got my Nixon, uh, Ford? Carter? Era fries right here, so now I'm gonna"

*everything appears stretched and distant, and then the camera flies through space, through the sun, over millions of different Earths, past the faces of individual people in a thousand different timelines, splintered day by day, the long-dead alive once more, their varied futures lying before them. They appear to be screaming*

"annnnnd here we are, gettin' the new fries, today. I have to say, I like the old fries a bit better, bit more crisp, but Mickey D's fries are still Mickey D's fries, y'know? Anyway, I know some of you guys were freaked out at all the screaming time faces last video, but like, I'm used to 'em, and they aren't even audible to me? But y'know what is audible? That's right - Audible, use code -"

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Rook stumbles upon a hidden bookshelf in the Lighthouse.

Rook: *running their fingers across the book spines* What’s this? Your evil plan repository?

Solas: Unimportant.

Rook: Oddly reticent. Let’s have a read.

Solas: NO!

Rook: Oh, that just makes me want to read it more.

Rook pulls a random book out and flips to a random page. The smile on their face drops. Their brow furrows.

Rook: Solas, literally the first sentence I read was: “My mouth descended upon her yearning flower.”

Solas: *coughs awkwardly and looks away*

Rook: Solas…Solas, is this your porn stash?

Solas: Erotica.

Rook: Nuance, listen—wait, this is your hand writing. D-did…did you write this?

Solas: …

Rook: *grabs another random book* You’re hand writing again. “Her masterful mouth and tongue worked my-“

Solas: You don’t have to read it out loud.

Several hours later…

Rook: * throwing books all over the place* It’s all fucking lewd’s!!! You wrote all this smut!

Solas: A mere thought experiment put to paper.

Rook: This is not a thought experiment, this is a horny dissertation! All about you and this Lavellan lady. Andraste’s Tits! Are you trying to get a PhD in Down Bad?!

Solas: Can we stop talking now?

Rook: Did you get this peer reviewed by Desire Demon’s or something? This shit’s smutty. I thought Varric was bad.

Sometime…

Lavellan: My name is Lavellan.

Rook, mouth agape, turns to the projection of Solas.

Solas: Not. A. Word.

Rook: *shaking Lavellan’s hand* Hi. I’ve read all about you.

A tear in the Fade appears. Solas reaches out and begins to strangle Rook.

I like to write Solas and Lavellan as equally unhinged.

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

“I don’t understand why everyone thinks we’re together” “Me neither" Merlin says as he cuddles up to Arthur while they’re in bed watching a movie, because the sofa is too uncomfortable and if Arthur falls asleep it would be better to fall asleep in bed, right?

@sauraunderscore wrote a beautiful story out of it ❤️

My other Merlin art

[dredpirate-fic-recs]

Evil-Mart provides a vast array of tools and gadgets that is essential for the common villain-of-the-week. You work as a cashier there. Unfortunately all your coworkers mysteriously called in sick today, so you alone have to handle the long line of increasingly disgruntled customers.

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Daughter of fantasy villains decides to rebel against her parents by actually going through with her arranged marriage to a local golden retriever of a prince instead of running off with some local villain-to-be or conquering said golden retriever’s kingdom and ruling it solo like her parents expect her to. Plus, sue her, she’s into the clean-cut earnest look.

At the same time, local prince charming discovers that he’s actually very into the gothic fiance his parents have landed him with in order to try and establish peace with the local evil lair down the lane, he would never have guessed a spiderweb pattern could look so fetching on a ball gown…?

Meanwhile, two pairs of parents in a tizzy because they both expected their offspring to whole-heartedly reject this union and give them an excuse to conquer their goody-two-shoes/evil neighbours, they’re not supposed to actually like each other-!