barbitone
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“I feel like I’m living in the opening scenes of a horror movie,” Ancel said, breezing into Berenger’s office.
“Hm?” Berenger said, not looking up from his computer screen. He was in the middle of reading an email from a client. Her soon-to-be ex husband had been arrested for drunk driving, again, but his overpaid lawyers were still pushing for full custody.
“I was at the deli,” Ancel said, setting a paper bag on the corner of Berenger’s desk. “And everyone’s going about their business as usual while all the news can talk about is the plague in Vask.”
“The plague?” Berenger said, finally looking up.
“Oh my god, really?” Ancel said. “You haven’t heard? Everyone is talking about it.”
Series
- Part 40 of Captive Prince Fanfiction
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The letter from the Lord of Varenne was rather curt.
“I’d like to contract your services for the purpose of finding my son a wife. If the proposed terms are acceptable, respond accordingly.”
Well. He could have slipped a please or maybe a thank you in there, but Ancel supposed the enclosed sum more than made up for it.
(Or: Ancel helps Berenger find a wife)
Series
- Part 38 of Captive Prince Fanfiction
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“What if Berenger doesn’t have a daemon,” Ancel said, brushing his hair as he sat at the vanity.
Adelaide looked up from preening to stare at him incredulously. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he has a daemon.”
“Well I’ve never seen it, have you?”
“He’s not the only lord who hides it,” Adelaide said, going back to grooming the feathers of her bright green tail.
Series
- Part 39 of Captive Prince Fanfiction
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Ancel's terrible, no good, very bad autumn by barbitone
Fandoms: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
13 Jan 2026
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A burst of laughter caught Ancel’s attention and he looked back into the hall, where the Patran bastard was laughing again, his hand resting casually on Berenger’s shoulder while Berenger did nothing to stop him.
“Lord Ancel, is something the matter?” Tessa asked.
“Yes,” he snarled. “I mean- no,” he amended when he chanced a glance at her to see she’d paled. “I don’t- I mean.” He took a breath. “Who is that-“ fucker “-man sitting next to my husband?”
Series
- Part 37 of Captive Prince Fanfiction
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Ancel’s mother had been a liar and a whore, but she’d still taught him a few things worth knowing before running off with a merchant’s son and leaving Ancel to fend for himself.
Always get your money up front.
No amount of gold is worth risking the pox.
And most importantly- a soul bond can be faked.
Series
- Part 36 of Captive Prince Fanfiction
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FE3H Fanfiction by barbitone
Fandom Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
17 Jul 2020
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- 12,376
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Gratitude by GoldenThreads
Fandoms: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
22 Aug 2019
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“You, dear Ferdie, want to hear a thank you for every single thing you do. Every. Single. Thing.” Dorothea wagged a finger at him with each word, then shrugged. “Hubie would rather eat his shoe than hear the words.”
“No one has ever thanked him?” Ferdinand asked, face twisting with such affronted shock that she may as well have slandered his favorite horse.
Ferdinand embarks on a seduction (?).Series
- Part 1 of A Soft Seduction
Bookmarked by barbitone
03 Apr 2026
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“Promise me you’ll go home before eight,” Damen said.
“Of course,” Laurent said.
Series
- Part 3 of boiling the ocean
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- English
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- 10,062
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by barbitone
24 Dec 2025
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At the end of a long day, Finch's voice telling John there's a prepared meal and how long to put it in the microwave means John is that much less likely to find himself a liquid dinner or go to sleep without.
Bookmarked by barbitone
02 Jun 2025
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Harold and John begin a casual sex arrangement. It doesn't go particularly well.
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- English
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- 18,015
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by barbitone
19 May 2025
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Catch a Boat to England, Baby (Maybe to Spain) by leupagus
Fandoms: Person of Interest (TV)
01 Apr 2013
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The car door opens and one of the soldiers slides in, almost braining Harold with the butt of his gun. "Sorry, sir," the soldier says, breathless, "I thought you were in the other car — but you weren't — so I had to jump out and—"
"Who are you?" Harold says, but the soldier's familiar; the tall one who'd looked embarrassed.
And who still looks embarrassed. "Oh. Sorry, sir. Um. John Harris. Private Harris? I'm your um, assigned unit. Sir.” He sticks out a hand.
Bookmarked by barbitone
19 May 2025