#egos pirate au

[pastriibunz]

KAI DREW AUS!!!!

NTK/No Trauma Kai: Kai doesn’t experience any of the traumatic events that made Kai who she is today.

Evil Kai: self explanatory, Kai’s not the hero she is and is instead The Destroyer Of The Multiverse.

Rotten Kai: Everyone Kai holds dear to her abandons her for 10+ years, leaving her to rot in Unington. She stays, hoping that everyone will return eventually.

Starchild Kai: Starchild and her universe have an introductory post, linked here.

Ego Kai: Kai is more self-centered and egotistical.

NAK/No Accident Kai: Most of the other events that happened to Kai happened, except for The Accident that set Kai in motion.

Pirate Kai: Kai’s a pirate captain/siren. You can find doodles of her siren form

Cabinet Kai: Based on the song “Cabinet Man” by Lemon Demon, essentially, Kai is killed and she lives on through an arcade machine.

Infected Kai: Kai is infected by the apotheosis.

[alxtiny]

Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 1

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, blunt trauma to the head, starvation, improper jokes, hate able characters

Notes: lets see if y’all can guess who is who >.<

Playlist : asleep by the smiths | the great gig in the sky by pink floyd | under the water by aurora

Series Masterlist | Episode 2 | Prologue

"Move it, slave!” a gruff voice barked behind you, “I ain't got time for yer dainty little walk," you felt the crude shove of a sword poke into your back, the dirty steel pressing through the thin fabric of your shirt like an icicle. You stumbled forward, almost tripping over the uneven planks of the dock.

"Stop poking me!" You exclaimed, spinning around to glare at your tormentor. The chains binding your arms come up to shield your body. Your eyes were bright with fury. "I told you already, I am not a slave. I am a navigator, and I am getting on your infernal ship of my own volition. Take me to your captain; I have a deal to—"

"Quit runnin' yer mouth, lass, or I'll run you through with my sword," the crewman growled, clumsily swishing his blade around, making his inexperience known. His breath reeked of stale ale and rotting teeth, a look of disgust plastered itself across your face. His sword came to rest under your chin, pushing your face up. Exasperated, you raised your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, rolling your eyes. With a resigned sigh, you dragged yourself up the gangplank, your boots clattering against the rough wood. The unimpressive ship seemed to loom above you menacingly, its sails furled and its deck swarming with activity.

The ship’s deck was a cesspool of filth and debauchery. Men lounged about in various states of drunkenness, their eyes glazed and their movements sluggish. The stench of unwashed bodies and rancid skin mingled with the salty spray of the sea, creating a miasma that made you gag. You could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on yourself, leering and appraising, as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Around you, other women were being herded aboard, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear. Some were weeping, clutching at their tattered dresses, while others stared blankly ahead, in acceptance of their fate. Your stomach churned with a mix of disgust and anger. It was a slave trader’s ship. You had been foolish, utterly foolish, to let yourself be tricked into coming here.

It had all started at the pub, a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall frequented by sailors and all that. You had been celebrating a successful voyage, your pockets heavy with the gold you had earned as a navigator. A group of men had approached you, claiming they so desperately needed your skills to guide their ship through such treacherous waters. It stoked your ego of course, you couldn’t resist.

But it had all been a lie. They had swindled you, drugged your unguarded drink, and taken you prisoner. You had awoken, bound and gagged, surrounded by the same men who now leered at you from the ship’s deck. The gold was all gone, except a few coins you had kept hidden in your boots. You clenched your fists, cursing your own naivety.

The crewman prodded at your back again, forcing you to keep moving. You glaring back at him, he laughed as if this was all just a fun game. He was a squat, greasy man with a pockmarked face, a half shaven beard and a cruel glint in his eye. His clothes were dirty and ill-fitting, and sweat dripped down the sides of his face.

"Where’s the captain?" You demanded, your voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I want to speak to him now."

The crewman snorted, a sound that was more pig than human. "You don't make demands here, lass. You do as you're told, or you'll end up in the bilge with the rats." He grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your flesh, and dragged you towards the stern of the ship.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you were marched through the ship's dingy corridors, the air thick with the smell of salt and rotting wood. The two burly crewmen escorting you, stopped before a large, ornately carved door. One of them knocked twice, and a muffled voice from within barked for them to enter.

You were pushed into the room, stumbling over the threshold. The interior was a stark contrast to the squalor of the rest of the ship. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and the floor was covered with a plush, but stained, rug. At the far end of the room, behind a desk cluttered with a pile of maps and papers, and an even higher pile of dirty cutlery, sat the captain.

He was an unimposing figure in terms of height but made up for it in girth. His ample belly strained against the buttons of a once-white shirt now stained with the remnants of countless meals. Various condiments had left their mark, creating a painting of greasy splotches. His bald head glistened under the lamplight, a poorly matched toupee perched precariously atop his head. A smattering of fake gold jewellery adorned his fingers and neck, clinking as he moved.

The ‘captain’ looked up from his desk, a lecherous grin spreading across his bloated face. His small, beady eyes raked over you, lingering with a predatory gleam. "Well, well, what have we here?" he slurred, his voice thick with the effects of cheap alcohol.

You could barely suppress a shudder of disgust. The smell of rot and smoke wafted towards you as he rose from his chair, his movements slow and ungainly. He waddled closer, his breath heavy with the scent of decay. You took an involuntary step back, your skin crawling as he reached out to cup your chin with his pudgy fingers.

"Oh yess," he crooned, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "A rare beauty indeed. You'll fetch a pretty penny, my dear. Or perhaps... you might be of use to me in other ways." His grip tightened, and you winced as his grimy nails bit into your skin.

"I am a navigator," you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "Not a commodity to be sold or used. If you have any sense, you'll let me do my job and not treat me like chattel."

The man threw back his head, a shrill laugh erupting from his throat. His greasy face twisted into a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator toying with its prey.

"Oh please," he scoffed, shaking his head. "A woman as a navigator? As if." He turned slightly, gesturing to the room around him, where the other men chuckled in agreement. "Women are bad luck on ships. You're lucky you're being sold, girl. With your looks, some rich man might buy you. Keep you as a little whore, maybe."

His mocking tone made your blood boil. You clenched your fists, feeling the heat rise in your chest, but you forced yourself to maintain composure. He was trying to provoke you, belittle you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crumbling under his words.

"Bad luck? You’re the one who's unlucky," you snapped, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’ve navigated through storms worse than your ship can survive and waters darker than that stain on your shirt. Without someone like me, you'd be lucky to avoid running aground before dawn. Sell me off if you want, but it'll be your loss when you're stranded out there with nothing but your ignorance and superstitions."

His eyes darkened, the amusement in them turning cold as he stepped closer, his breath rancid against your face. He laughed again, quieter this time, but more sinister.

"You've got fire," he sneered. "But fire snuffs out quick at sea. And I don’t need some chit telling me how t’ run my ship." He tilted his head, considering you for a moment, before his lips twisted into a nasty smirk. "Tell you what. Since you're so eager to prove your worth... If you can lead me and my crew to the next port—alive—I’ll consider giving you a job."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly snuffed out by his next words.

"Not that I believe for a second you can," he continued, gesturing dismissively to one of his men. "Put her in the chart room. Give her the old maps and tools. Let's see what she can do with those rusty relics."

His men seized you roughly by the arms and dragged you down a narrow corridor. The stench of mildew filled the air as they threw open the door to a small, dimly lit room. It was more of a storage closet than a proper chart room. Tattered maps lay strewn across a dust-covered table, their edges crumbling from age. Instruments sat in a pile on the floor, as if someone threw them in and forgot about them eons ago. It was an insult to your craft.

The door slammed shut behind you, and you were left in the damp silence. You glared at the mess in front of you, wiping your hands on your pants as you surveyed the room. Some of the instruments were so worn they might not even function properly anymore.

"These fools wouldn’t know how to chart a course if their fucking lives depended on it," you muttered under your breath, grabbing the least-damaged map from the pile. Your hands shook as you unfurled it, your mind already racing to piece together what little you could.

Your eyes traced the faded lines, the names of ancient ports barely legible. But you had no choice. You needed to find a way to navigate this ship to safety—not just for yourself, but because proving them wrong had become more than just a matter of pride.

Hours passed as you pored over the charts, plotting a course that would take them through the least dangerous waters. You marked out safe harbours and potential hazards, making notes on a scrap of parchment. By the time you finished, your head was pounding and your eyes were heavy with fatigue.

You leaned back in the rickety chair, staring up at the ceiling. The ship creaked and groaned around you, the sound of waves lapping against the hull felt like a little man hammering away into your skull. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of rest. You knew that the coming days would be difficult, but you were quite determined to survive, to find a way out of this hellhole.

As the ship rocked gently on the waves, you drifted off to sleep, your dreams filled with visions of making way to faraway shores.

Over the course of the next two weeks, you poured every ounce of your skill and determination into navigating the ship through open waters and rapidly changing currents. The vast expanse of the open sea stretched out before you, a canvas of endless blue under the watchful eye of the sun and moon, and the occasional dark clouds that wept above you. You worked tirelessly, plotting courses, adjusting sails, and ensuring the ship stayed on a safe path. You had already saved them from a deadly storm and a series of hidden reefs, but despite your invaluable contributions, you were more like a prisoner than a respected navigator.

Every night, you could feel the disgusting gazes of the revolting crewmen following you around as you moved about the deck, their crude catcalls and whistles echoing through the darkness. Their words, filled with suggestive taunts and vulgarity, went on with a break. You were tired of it all. You would quicken your pace, doing your best to avoid their lustful stares, but the feeling of being watched never left you.

Not to mention your living quarters were nothing less than abysmal. You had been given a tiny, fishy-smelling cabin barely large enough to fit a untrustworthy hammock and a simple, rickety chair. The walls were damp, the paint was peeling and mould hung around rent free. The cabin had no proper bathroom, just a cracked basin for washing, and you were forced to bathe with your clothes on to preserve some semblance of privacy and dignity. The limited water you were allotted was often murky, tainted by the ship's grime and filth.

Meals were a farce. The crew seemed to take pleasure in your discomfort, providing you with nothing more than stale, dry bread, hardened fish and tepid water, barely enough to keep you alive. Your stomach grumbled constantly, a relentless gnawing hunger that left you feeling weak and light-headed. You would sit in your cramped cabin, picking at the bread, trying to muster the strength to face another day. It was a test of endurance, a form of torture that gnawed away at your resolve with each passing hour.

Despite your dire circumstances, you knew you had no choice but to obey. Your earlier demands had placed you in a dangerous position, and any hint of defiance could tilt the balance against your favour. You walked a thin line, a weak rope that even a trapeze artist would refuse.

On your sixteenth day on the ship, you woke up earlier than usual, to the soft creaking of the ship, your senses still dulled by the fitful sleep that had become your nightly routine. The confines of your smelly, damp cabin felt more oppressive each day, the weak hammock beneath you barely providing rest. You stretched your aching limbs and splashed your face with the dull water from the cracked basin, trying to shake off the persistent lethargy that clung onto you like a second skin. The stale bread left from your last meal sat untouched on the rickety chair, your stomach too nauseous to consider eating.

You were in the midst of your daily routine, preparing for another gruelling day of work, the same work you once enjoyed now seemed like an unnecessary pain. You prepared to walk out of the cabin, dreading the unwanted attention from the others, when a sudden, deafening boom echoed through the ship. The floorboards shuddered beneath your feet, and the air seemed to recoil with the force of the explosion. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, your mind struggling to process the cacophony of sounds that followed—the clamour of footsteps, the frantic shouts, and the ominous creaking of the ship as it tilted to one side, making you stumble.

Your heart raced as you heard the muffled sounds of screaming and scurrying outside your door. Panic surged through your veins, and you moved to the door, only to find it locked from the outside. You cursed under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. The realisation that you were trapped, powerless to escape whatever chaos had engulfed the ship, sent a wave of despair crashing over you.

“Pirates! Save yourself!” someone screamed, their voice raw with terror. The slurred shrieks of the slaver captain followed, barking out orders with a frantic urgency. “Abandon ship! No first- Get me out of here!”

Your pulse quickened as you grasped the small window set high in your door. It was just out of reach. You grabbed the chair, its legs wobbly and unstable, and clambered onto it, pressing your face to the grimy glass. You could see only a narrow slice of the chaos outside, figures darting back and forth in a desperate frenzy. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid smoke that drifted through the corridors.

As you strained to see more, a thud shook the door, and the chair beneath you wobbled alarmingly. You let out a strangled cry, gripping the edges of the window for balance. The sound of gunshots reverberated through the wooden walls, each one a sharp, violent punctuation in the symphony of terror. A thick, dark liquid began to seep through the crack at the bottom of the door, pooling on the floor beneath your feet. You felt your stomach churn as the realisation hit you—blood.

You screamed, a raw, primal sound that tore through your throat, and the colour drained from your face. You banged on the door, your fists bruising against the wood, but your cries were lost in the maelstrom of chaos outside.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the din, smooth and chillingly calm. “Found a slave in here,” it called out, its tone laced with a seductive menace that made your skin crawl. You pressed your ear to the door, straining to catch a glimpse of your would-be captors, but your vision swam with tears and fear.

Before you could react, a hand slammed against the window, and the force of the impact sent your chair teetering. You lost your balance, falling hard to the floor, your head striking the rough wood with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in your skull, and your vision blurred. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, mingling with the distant sound of voices and the echo of your own screams.

The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the vague outline of a figure moving past the window, and the door being wrenched open with a splintering crack. The scent of salt and gunpowder filled your nostrils, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. The voice, with its cruel, mocking lilt, whispered one last chilling phrase as consciousness slipped away. “This one will fetch a fine price.”

The voice, gruff and edged with impatience, cut through the haze of your fading consciousness. "Yeah, first we need to fix that nasty gash in the side of her head."

Everything went black.

When you finally stirred, it felt like an eternity had passed. Your head throbbed with a deep, pulsing ache, and your limbs felt as if they were weighed down with stones. You groaned, your voice a rasping whisper for water, as you struggled to open your eyes. The light in the room was blinding, stabbing into your skull with every tiny flicker.

Slowly, painfully, you turned your head, your vision swimming in and out of focus. The room around you was dimly lit, the walls rough and shadowed. The scent of salt and damp wood filled the air, but it was the figure by your side that drew your attention. A man stood there, dressed in a white tunic splattered with dull red and brown stains. You blinked, your foggy mind trying to make sense of it all.

"Where... where am I? How long was I out?" You croaked out, your throat dry and raw.

The man turned, and for a moment, all thoughts of pain and confusion fled your mind. He was the most striking man you had ever seen, with piercing brown eyes and a rugged handsomeness that made your breath catch in your throat. His hair was tied back in a careless manner, stray strands framing his sharp features.

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, your words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "Yep, I’m dead, and there’s even an angel here to take me away."

The man's expression twisted into a snarl at your words, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Ain’t an angel, lass. I’m a doctor. I fixed you up, but now you’ll be sent off somewhere, I guess."

Your mind stuttered to a halt, confusion crashing over her. You’re stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Suddenly, panic flared in your chest, and you bolted upright despite the sharp pain that tore through your body.

"Wait, what?" You gasped,your heart pounding wildly.

"You heard me," he replied, his tone flat but certain.

"But why?" you questioned, your voice trembling with both confusion and fear.

The man approached you, his demeanour calm and seemingly harmless as he carried a box filled with strange bottles and vials and a glass of water. “I dunno. My job was to patch you up, doll. The rest is up to the captain to decide.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wait, captain? This is a ship—are you pirates?!" you screeched, your voice rising in panic. Instinctively, you shifted further up on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly against your chest as if they could somehow protect you from whatever horrors awaited.

The man laughed, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “What, you thought you were back in whatever noble house you came from?”

“N-no,” you stammered, the denial slipping from your lips before you could even process it. “Of course not, but… what do you want from me?”

The man sighed, a trace of weariness in the sound, before a small awkward smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Let me put some ointment on your wound,” he said, gesturing to the box he carried. “Then I’ll take you to the captain. He’ll decide your fate... don’t worry, sometimes……. he’s merciful.”

A look of horror passed over your face, the weight of his words sinking in. But as much as you wanted to fight, to resist, you knew you had no choice. One again you were trapped. With trembling hands, you released your grip on the sheet and took the glass of water he held towards you. You took a few sips before gulping it down and allowing him to come nearer.

He moved with a practised ease, gently unwrapping the gauze from around your head. You hadn’t even realised it was there, there was dull throbbing in your skull because of whatever injury you had sustained. He dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood, and you flinched as the cold air touched the raw skin.

When he began applying the ointment, you winced, expecting the sting of pain to worsen. But instead, a soothing coolness spread across the wound, the pain ebbing away within minutes. It was as if the discomfort had never existed.

He finished wrapping your head in fresh bandages, his hands quick and efficient. You touched the side of your head, your mouth falling open in awe when you realised there was no more pain.

"You must have magic in your hands," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine wonder. "I barely feel any pain at all."

He smiled widely at your words, a touch of pride lighting up his eyes. “No magic, lass. Just a good bit of skill.” He extended a hand to help you stand, his grip firm and steady as he guided you to your feet .

You wobbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, but he steadied you with ease. With a nod, he led you out of the dimly lit room, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on your chest as you headed toward whatever fate the captain had in store for you.

Stepping out of the door, you were immediately hit with a blast of hot, humid air, the salty tang of the sea filling your nostrils. The sunlight, far more intense than the dim lights of the room you had just left, assaulted your eyes, forcing you to squint against its brightness. As your eyes adjusted, you took in your surroundings, following the man down a narrow passage that led out onto the deck.

The deck was expansive, far larger than you had expected, and meticulously maintained. The dark wood beneath your feet was smooth and polished, almost gleaming in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the grimy, weathered deck of the ship you had been on before. Men moved about with a practised, almost military-like precision, their movements synchronised as they managed the sails and ropes with an efficiency that belied the chaos you had expected from a pirate crew. Voices rang out across the deck, some shouting orders, others responding with quick, sharp affirmations.

Your gaze was drawn upward to the towering mainmast, which seemed to loom over you like a giant, casting a long shadow across the deck. "We must be on the poop deck," you thought, your mind racing to make sense of the ship’s layout. Ahead of you, you could just barely make out the bowsprit extending far into the distance, the very tip of the ship. The grandeur of the ship astonished you, its size and the sheer opulence of its upkeep making you wonder just how rich these pirates must be.

The man led the way, his footsteps silent on the wooden planks as you followed closely behind, your eyes darting around to take in as much as you could. Despite the flurry of activity around you, none of the crew seemed to pay you any mind. They were too focused on their tasks to spare even a glance in your direction, as if your presence was of no consequence to them. The lack of attention should have reassured you, it was a relief from the constant surveillance you had on the slaver ship, but it only deepened the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach.

As you reached the main deck, the man remained quiet, offering no explanation or comfort. The tension in your chest grew with each step, your heart pounding in rhythm with the ship's creaking timbers. Finally, you arrived at a small staircase that led down into another passage. This passage, in contrast to the bright sunlight above, was dark and foreboding, the walls closing in around you as you descended. The shift from light to dark was jarring, and you found yourself instinctively trying to close in on yourself, away from the shadows that seemed to press into you from all sides.

The man stopped at the end of the passage, in front of a large carved, heavy door that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. “Wait here,” he instructed, his voice curt but not unkind. He pushed the door open and slipped inside, leaving you standing alone in the darkness.

You stared at the door, your breath coming in shallow, anxious gasps. "This must be the captain’s room," you thought,your imagination running wild with all the possible horrors that could lie beyond that door. The longer you stood there, the more your nerves frayed, each second stretching out into an eternity. Your mind conjured up images of what the captain might be like—cruel, ruthless, and utterly terrifying. You could almost see his large figure and barbarous appearance.

Your heart raced, the silence around you thickening like a shroud. Every creak of the ship, every distant shout from the deck above, made you jump. You fought the urge to flee, knowing you had nowhere to go, no means of escape. All you could do was wait, your ability to overthink seemed to have reached a new level, until the door finally opened and you would come face to face with the man who held your fate in his hands.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and the man stepped out, his expression unreadable. He gestured for you to go inside, but you hesitated, your feet rooted to the spot. The fact that he didn’t seem to be coming in with you made your heart pound even harder in your chest. When you still didn’t move, he gave you a gentle but firm push, and before you could protest, the door was closed behind you with a resounding thud.

You stumbled into the room, your breath catching in your throat as you took in your surroundings. The space was dimly lit, casting deep shadows across the walls, but you could tell it was large, much larger than the cramped quarters you had been kept in before. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books, maps, and various trinkets that glimmered in the low light—treasures from far-off lands, you assumed. One side of the room was dominated by a large window that offered a breathtaking view of the endless sea, the horizon glowing with the last light of the setting sun. Just how long had you been waiting.

But what truly caught your attention was the man standing in front of the window, his back turned to you. He wore a black tunic that clung to his lean frame, the edges wrapped in black bandages that extended down to his palms. His tight leather pants emphasized his sharp, angular build, and though he wasn’t very tall, he exuded an aura of power and intimidation that filled the room. His hair was striking—half black, half white, styled into a short mullet that gave him an almost otherworldly appearance. He was nothing like you had imagined.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "H-hello?" you stuttered out, your words barely above a whisper.

The man turned slowly, revealing a face that was both haunting and mesmerising. What puzzled you most was the pair of dark sunglasses he wore, despite the fact that they were inside a dimly lit room. His lips curled into a menacing smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine. And then he spoke, his voice dripping with a honeyed malice, the same voice you had heard just before you had lost consciousness.

“Ahh, finally, the sleeping beauty is awake,” he drawled, his smile widening as he took a step toward her. His presence was suffocating, every movement deliberate and calculated. “Tell me, go ahead. Negotiate your life, beg if you must. Then we’ll see what to do with you.”

He moved to the large table in front of the window, sitting down with a casual grace that belied the danger he radiated. He propped his feet up on the table, the heavy black boots he wore catching your eye. They were stained with dark splotches of red, the sight of which made your stomach recoil.

You tried to speak, but your voice came out in stammers, very much unlike the confidence you held when you talked to the slavers. Your mind raced as you searched for something, anything, that might save you.

He lifted his sunglasses, his eyes were a striking grey, like an uncontainable storm. Suddenly the room felt even more suffocating than before.

“I said speak,” he commanded in a ruthlessly calm voice, it sent shivers down your spine. This man was something different.

You didn’t want to speak but words came out anyway, as if someone had physically forced you to. “I-I’m a navigator,” you blurted, your words tumbling over each other in a desperate rush. “I can help you—I’ve guided many ships through perilous waters. I can be useful to you. Please, if you spare me, I’ll do whatever you need. I’ve helped with multiple voyages, charted courses, and avoided storms…”

Your words trailed off as the man laughed, the sound echoing in the room like a cruel mockery. His laughter was sharp, cutting through your rambling pleas and leaving you in a stunned silence. You stood there, trembling, as his mirth subsided, feeling smaller and more like an insignificant fly everytime he looked you over.

Just as you were about to try again, the door behind you creaked open. You froze, your heart lurching in your chest as you heard the sound of boots on the wooden floor. You turned slightly, your eyes widening as seven men entered the room, including the one who had patched you up earlier. They spread out behind you, their presence like a barrier between you and the door, it made your knees weak.

The room felt much smaller now, the walls closing in on you as you stood there, trapped between the intimidating captain in front of you and the intimidating crew behind you. Your mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down on you as you realised just how dire your circumstances had become.

You looked around, your eyes darting from one man to the next, taking in their appearances and trying to read the expressions on their faces. Each one of them exuded a certain aura, something you couldn’t quite decipher. But the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to make your skin crawl.

The man in the centre, the one you assumed to be the captain, spoke again, his voice laced with a poisonous edge. “So, tell me, what should we do with this young lady here?”

One of the men stepped forward, his height almost matching that of the captain. He had a permanent smirk on his face, a look that immediately filled you with a sense of revulsion. “I told you earlier too—we should sell her. We’ll get paid a hefty sum for a pretty face like hers.”

Your expression twisted into one of disgust, your heart beating deafeningly at the casual cruelty in his words. But before you could react, another man spoke up, this one taller and far more muscular than the others. His broad shoulders and imposing frame made him look like a man who was used to handling trouble with his fists. “Hey, I thought we didn’t do that anymore,” he said, his tone almost childlike as he pouted, clearly not taking the situation as seriously as you wished he would.

The first man, with his smirk still firmly in place, shrugged, side eyeing his friend. “I was just joking,” he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Before you could process that, a third man cut in, his voice sharp and dismissive. “It’s all a waste. Just throw her into the water for the sharks. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

Her heart dropped at the suggestion, fear gripping you tightly, but then the man who had healed you spoke up, his voice carrying a note of annoyance. “Hey, then what did I do all that healing for if she was just going to become fish food? We could have thrown her in before I wasted my time.”

The men began to bicker among themselves, their voices rising and overlapping as they argued over your fate. It was as if your life was nothing more than a trivial matter to be debated, and it felt like a cold wet blanket had been dropped on top of you.

The captain, watching the chaos unfold, chuckled to himself. With a wave of his hand, he silenced the room, his voice cutting through the noise with ease. “Now, now, boys, let’s not be hasty. She said she’s a navigator, didn’t she?” He turned his gaze back to you, his expression unreadable. “You see, our last man accidentally tipped over into the ocean, so we’re in need of a new navigator. Why don’t you give it a go? If you fail, well…” He paused, an innocent look spreading across his face, though his eyes remained cold. “Maybe you’ll end up with him.”

You stared at him, aghast at his words. The casual way he spoke of life and death, as if they were nothing more than a game. This was not a man who valued life—at least, not the lives of those he deemed beneath him. And now, your fate rested in the hands of this man who would as easily toss you overboard as he would give you a chance to prove your worth.

Your mind raced, a deadweight pressing down on you. You had no choice but to accept his offer—if it could even be called that. But deep down, you knew that this was only the beginning of a difficult journey, you had to play your cards right.

You agreed hastily, your voice trembling as you thanked him for sparing your life. The captain laughed again, a sound that was more chilling than comforting, before turning his attention away from you. "Someone, show her the way to her cell—oops, I meant room," he ordered, a wicked grin stretching across his face as he returned to the window, sunglasses coming back down, cackling all the way.

As he stared out at the darkening horizon, another man, much taller and with a gaunt appearance, followed him. His hair was stark white, and there was something about his hollow cheeks and sunken black eyes that made you shiver. He leaned in close to the captain, whispering in hushed tones, their conversation too quiet for you to hear. you could only watch as the two men exchanged words.

The rest of the men began to file out of the room slowly, their presence still made you uneasy in the back of your mind. In the end two of the tallest still stayed behind, one of them placing a firm hand on your shoulder and pushing you forward slightly. He seemed friendlier than the others, and he quickly said, "Let’s go," in a tone that was almost reassuring.

As you made your way out of the captain’s quarters, you noticed that his friend, who had stayed silent, was indifferent and least interested in you. He kept flipping a small, gleaming blade in his hand, the metallic click of the weapon opening and closing sending a wave of anxiety through you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to stab himself—or worse, you.

The friendlier man, walking beside you, began to speak quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush as he droned on about the different parts of the ship and the engineering behind them. He spoke so fast that you could barely understand him, but at least his upbeat demeanour was a welcome change from the coldness you had faced so far. His enthusiasm, however, was lost on you; all you could think about was the blade flicking in the other man's hand and the fact that you were at the mercy of these pirates.

After what felt like an endless walk, they reached a small room, on the opposite side of the captain’s quarters and suspiciously close to the main deck. The indifferent man, his voice surprisingly deep, said, "We’re here," before pushing you inside. You barely had time to protest before he quickly closed the door and locked it with a solid click.

The cheery one spoke up from behind the door, his face appearing in the small, barred window set into it. "There’s food for you on the table, and some spare clothes in the chest near the bed. The clothes might be big, but you’ll have to make do for now. There are also spare sheets in the chest, some paper and pencils, and water, of course. The room is locked for your own safety, and if you need help, just tap loudly a few times under the flower painting over the bed—someone will come to you. Good night!" And with that, his face disappeared, leaving you alone in the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of boots echoing down the hallway until they, too, faded into nothingness. You stood there for a moment, shaken by the events of the day, unable to move or think. It was as if your body had finally caught up with the shock of it all, and you felt the weight of your situation settle heavily on your shoulders.

Slowly, you walked over to the table and saw the surprisingly good-looking food laid out for you. A nice bowl of hot stew, some fluffy bread, and roasted meat—simple, but more appetising than anything you had eaten in days. You sat down and began to eat, savouring every bite. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now, and the warmth of the food filled you with a small measure of comfort. As you ate, tears welled up in your eyes and slowly started to drip down.

After finishing your meal, you opened the chest near the bed and found a white tunic and a pair of black linen shorts. The tunic was big, but you managed to hold it together with your own belt, and though the shirts were also loose and came down to your knees, you made do with what you had. You then lay down on the bed, the soft sheets a welcome relief against your skin.

As you stared up at the ceiling, your mind raced with thoughts of the day’s events. How easily you had been spared from death, or worse, and how it all seemed almost too simple. Was it all just to scare you, or was there something deeper going on behind the scenes? The uncertainty of it all terrified you, and you felt a pang of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm you.

But as much as your thoughts tormented you, the heavy exhaustion of your body and the gentle rocking of the ship slowly pulled you into a dreamless sleep.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517 @yandere-stories @passionandsuga @beabatiny @sadtoru

[goldenblu]

lrt (lrb?) but in regards to another idea i had about germa!sanji…

AU where the poison doesn’t work and he’s born without emotions like his brothers and becomes stealth black. he comes across the strawhats while he's on a mission and decides to work with them/use them because their goals happen to align at that point in time (or maybe they don’t align and he means to sabotage them).

he can’t tell the strawhats who he really is so he pretends to be someone else, someone with emotions and morals and a completely normal background, maybe he makes up some sob story so that they allow him to travel with them.

he chooses to play the long game because this is a delicate mission that can’t be solved with brute strength alone. unlike his brothers he can be patient, he can lie and pretend and manipulate, that’s his strong suit, isn’t it? he’s the spy, the infiltrator, the one who is always sent undercover—that’s what he was made for.

so he joins the strawhats under the guise of a cook, not because he likes cooking (he doesn’t, it’s beneath him), but because 1) the strawhats are in desperate need of a cook and 2) it’s so easy and formulaic, just follow a recipe and he’s good to go. he doesn’t get why the strawhats have been struggling so much with it before he came along, what’s so hard about that?

he thinks it’s weird that the strawhats accept him right away. they don’t ask too many questions. when luffy looks at him and decides “you’ll be my cook,” that’s that. it’s like he’s always been there, with the easy way that they make space for him on their crew.

it’s so stupidly naive of them, it almost makes sanji laugh. he reminds himself that he shouldn’t expect pirates to be particularly intelligent, and either way, he’s not gonna complain since it makes his job that much easier.

so he cooks for them, he sneaks away occasionally to meet with his various underworld contacts and maybe do a little light murdering here and there when the need arises, he fights alongside the strawhats whenever he can’t avoid it—not with the raid suit, of course, but he doesn’t need it, he’s got his combat knives and he’s very good at hand to hand.

it’s a bit difficult to explain away his inhuman durability; chopper is always worrying over him and accuses him of hiding his injuries. chopper seems baffled when sanji shows him his unharmed skin and says, look, really, there’s nothing there, you must have been imagining things. or, when he can’t pretend that he didn’t take a blow, he just shrugs and says that his opponent was a lot weaker than they looked.

it infuriates zoro to no end, because how is this random no-name cook so strong? how does he somehow come out of every battle untouched with hardly a single hair out of place? so zoro tries to start fights with sanji, to prove the superiority of his swords over sanji’s knives, and at first sanji mostly ignores him because what does he care about some stupid swordsman’s ego?

but zoro keeps trying and eventually sanji snaps and finally fights back, since this irritating mossball clearly needs to be taught a lesson. sanji wins, and he thinks that will be the end of it, but then zoro just keeps coming back, because how else will he get stronger if he can’t defeat a fucking cook?

(sanji allows it. he’s been getting bored, and at least the swordsman is one of few who can keep up with him. he hasn’t had a good fight like that in a while now.)

sanji doesn’t think particularly highly of usopp, who he labels as a coward. but then again, compared sanji and his siblings, most people are. so when usopp runs to hide behind him, sanji sighs in annoyance but grudgingly moves to protect him anyway because that’s what this person he’s pretending to be would do, isn’t it? he doesn’t actually care what happens to usopp or anything, no matter how much usopp seems to think otherwise.

the first time sanji saves usopp without prompting, he’s momentarily surprised with himself. he didn’t have to do that; no one would have noticed if he pretended he hadn’t seen usopp was in danger. he chalks it up to the fact that he’s protected usopp so many times that it must have become an automatic instinct, which irritates him to no end. but whatever, it’s not like he’s going to be here for much longer anyway.

he treats nami the same as everyone else. one day he walks by while nami is drawing her maps and he offhandedly mentions something about how maps of the grand line are usually terribly inaccurate in his experience which makes it a pain to sail anywhere without an eternal log pose, but nami’s maps seem to be pretty good. and that’s how nami finds out he’s already been all over the grand line.

sanji realizes that he might’ve dropped a bit too much information, but he covers it up by saying he used to work as a cook on a merchant ship, which nami accepts. but after that nami starts working on her maps in the galley a lot more so that she can get his opinion/ask him questions, especially about places that the strawhats don’t stop at, like do you remember if the landmass was shaped more like this or this or are there any islands i’m missing that we would’ve passed by already.

sanji answers as honestly as he can—not because he wants to help her in particular, but because better maps means that it’ll be easier for germa ships to navigate the grand line, so why not? so he doesn’t kick her out of the galley, not even when it really starts to distract him from cooking. nami doesn’t ever say it outright, but he suspects that this is why she gives him a slightly bigger allowance than the others when they go ashore, not that he needs it.

luffy drags sanji places and shows him new things and, most confusingly, asks him to play. sanji scoffs at the notion because he doesn’t play. he’s never played anything, not once in his entire life, he doesn’t even think he’s had fun before. when he lets that slip, though, luffy looks at him, smile falling for a moment in favor of something sad, before becoming even more determined.

(later, luffy asks him if he has a dream.

no, sanji says, without thinking. he pauses, unsure if that’s something that the persona he’s carefully crafted would say. but it’s too late—it’s already out there.

not at all? luffy asks. there has to be something. i don’t care about far away or impossible it seems.

sanji considers it for a moment and says, again, no. i don’t see the point of dreaming of things that aren’t possible.

whether it’s possible or not isn’t important. surely there’s something you want.

want. sanji isn’t even sure of the meaning of the word. he wants what his father wants, of course, but he gets the feeling that isn’t what luffy meant. something about his confusion must show on his face, because luffy lets it go.

after that, though, luffy won’t stop asking about what sanji wants to do. it drives sanji insane, because that’s a question he never knows how to answer.

it’s easy enough to make something up, obviously, but luffy seems to know every time, because he’ll send sanji this disappointed sort of look.

it makes sanji feel like he’s failed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

he fucking hates it.)

the strawhats keep sailing forward, saving various people and islands along the way (and that’s something else sanji can’t understand—luffy’s determination to fight for the freedom of others at no benefit to himself, this inherent kindness of his. well, sanji amends, the entire crew’s kindness, really. each of them shows it in their own way, but it’s apparent enough even in their daily interactions on the ship. these little things, above all else, keep throwing sanji off; he doesn’t know what to do with it, especially when it’s directed at him).

so for a long time, sanji pretends to be someone he’s not. and then he realizes, at some point, he’s not pretending anymore. he realizes that he’s actually starting to enjoy cooking, that he likes being here, on this ship with this crew who treat him as something more than a weapon or someone to fear. he realizes that he can’t remember the last time he thought about his mission, that it’s getting easier and easier to put on these fake emotions, that he barely even has to think about it anymore—so maybe they aren’t as fake he thought they were.

he realizes, with horror, that he’s learning how to feel. and, worst of all, there is something he wants, now.

so in the end, it turns out luffy was right. sanji does have an impossible dream, after all. because this thing he wants? he knows, as sure as anything, that it’s something he can’t ever, ever have.

[kingprinceleo]

Find my Aus sorted by category here: https://deviantart.com/kingprinceleo

Where to find me: Complete List

Ao3 (home to one [1] fic): https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingprinceleo

Updates:

New summary post ! yay !

Vampire au is getting a total overhaul!

Ships present:

1000 Years Bound-None

Happy Auau- No active ships during the story but hints of Blazamy (married) and Knuxouge (flirting) from a hundreds of years ago. Sonic and Shadow have their typical weird tension with no clear definition as to what they are. (though i may draw non canon fluff art with them)

Fire n Water- None

Vampire Au- Sonadow (Eventual marriage + LOTS of non canon fluff), Blazamy, Knuxouge (flirting)

Desert Vampires Au- Wavouge (exes)

Tag method: Cw (blank)

General/Frequent Content Warnings for my art- Blood, injury, violence, horror themes, body horror, drowning, cannibalism (mostly depicting the urges, minimal straight up gore), gore (very rare, and never extreme)

1000 Years Bound Summary- 500 years into the future, Miles finds himself at the mysterious kingdom of Solar Sanctum, ruled by the long absent King Shadow. Shadow invites Miles to stay as a collaboration of great minds to try and solve the murky state their world has fallen into. It isnt long before Miles starts to realize Shadow is no longer the man he remembers, and starts to get tangled up in his web of madness.

Happy Auau Summary- An au of an au branching off the 1000 Years Bound timeline, or perhaps it's the original…

Sonic the Hedgehog, immortalized by extended use of the chaos emeralds, is alive and well 500 years into the future. His latest adventure leads him to taking down a tyrant king and he finds himself thrust into power when the people of the struggling kingdom declare him to be their next leader. Realizing he's absolutely boned, he calls upon his old friends for help.

Fire and Water Au Summary- Thousands of years ago, the Sol dimension and Mobius had become one planet after a catastrophic event caused by Solaris. After hundreds of years of research and splitting the beast into two halves, Iblis reeked havoc on the planet and threatened to destroy it once again.

Under a time limit and the constant threat of Solaris's return, a baby Sonic was chosen by the royal family to be the vessel to inhabit the flames of disaster.

Present day, Sonic and Blaze's parents have mysteriously passed away and Sonic's coronation is closing in. Desperate, he escapes the castle to pursue a life of freedom as a pirate.

Blaze, with no one left, sets out to retrieve him at any cost.

Vampire Au Summary- Angel Island is the only life Sonic has ever known. Being trapped within the permanent barrier encasing the 8 islands isnt quite his style, so finding a way to destroy it and explore the world below has been his goal for as long as he can remember. Hes got a number of other things keeping him occupied however, trying to prevent both Dr. Eggman and G.U.N from taking over total control of the islands. 

When he isnt fighting them off, hes hanging out with his friends, living his best life being a vampire both day and night. When he wants to get everyone off his back, and feed from his favorite vampire hater, Shadow, he uses his magic staff to change his appearance into an alter ego, Hoax the "Tenrec."

Desert Vampire Au Hook- People are going missing in the desert...

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (poll results)

Well, looks like our precious reader darling marine has everything lined up now!

Results?

You, a nervous, weirded out marine is ostensibly being held captive by the Whitebeard Pirates who are a little too friendly and welcoming. You just want to go back to your regular day job dealing with pissy weak-devil-fruit-pricks who ego trip off of the power boost your own devil fruit provides. And giving love to every animal you run across because they, above anyone else really, deserves it.

Unfortunately, this somewhat tolerable, if very weird, situation gets much worse when one of the Whitebeard Pirates turns traitor and kidnaps you from your original kidnappers. Probably for your devil fruit power, but he sure seems certain it'll attract the ire of his previous crew in the process. Why, oh why, he wants that, you have no fucking idea.

A life on the run held captive by a single, mad, greedy pirate, or a whole damn group of mad pirates... my, what bountiful options you have.

But it looks like you're not returning to your regular job as a power boost in the marines anytime soon, regardless. So really, it's a matter of the weirdly friendly devil you know or the ambitiously rude devil you will know much better soon enough. If given the choice... where would you go?

Is there even a choice to begin with?

Story parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15 (END)

Marco +18 AU End

Luffy AU End

Luffy +18 end

Thatch AU (platonic) End/ +18

Akainu AU End platonic/+18

Ace AU End Platonic/+18

Whitebeard End Platonic

Also present in it's entirety on AO3!

How Our Seeds Grow (literal child AU version): Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Spooktober AU

AO3 link for How Our Seeds Grow!

[emistations]

I saw the continuation of my Amy Prime au idea about a Thorn Sonic. I was actually thinking of a Thorn Sonic being a werehog too before I saw this. I wonder what a pirate Sonic would look like? Probably a pirate Sonic who has the original's adventurous nature. I was thinking pirate Sonic’s name should be "Mako" like the shark, because the mako shark is the fastest species of shark, that's why I think the name "Mako" would really suit him.

Thought that his ego would also be amplified. He's Sonic but more annoying

[factual-fantasy]

26 ASK! :DDDD🎉🎉🎉

I do not.. :/ Sorry!

@mason-gaylord

:DDD Thank you!! ☕ I'm hanging in there as best I can <:) Thank you for the well wishes. I hope the same for you!

@boxofcreampuffs (SKJAJD HORSE XDDDD)

AAAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH!!! THATS SO SWEET!! I PLAN TO GET BACK AROUND TO BOTH FANDOMS SOMETIME SOON AFTER MY COMIC IS DONE!!💖💖💖💖💖

@chaotic-public-menace (Post in question)

<XD While that is true, this comic is way overdue. Its taken me some weeks to make and it should have been up like a month ago! I just wanna get it done already so I'm trying to not get distracted by FNAF and other drawing ideas-

@ditzyclown

I haven't actually decided on whether or not the other Addison's were good or bad guys. This would change their reaction to seeing Spamton.

I had this idea that Spamton's world is a lot like Seam and Jevil's. Its more cruel and wicked than the original Deltarune.. And Spamton might not have been particularly close with the other Addison's.. They had no time for bonds or relationships. It was a dog eat dog world, every man for himself.

Branching off of that, one idea I had was the other Addison's had become jealous of Spamton's success and tried to kill him by pushing him into the acid pools.. Only for Spamton to survive and reemerge as a horrific looking creature..

If I go with the evil Addison story.. some Addison's might run away in fear just because of how horrific Spamton looks. Though some might deliberately abandon him becuase they hated him/were jealous of him and felt like he deserves this.

If I go with a story where the other Addison's weren't responsible for the acid fall.. they might still run away in fear. Seeing this horrible beast.. not realizing its one of their own.

@bunny-coffee

XD No problem! Soft boi Gregory is best Gregory!

@beryl-shade

In my AU, none of the other Glamrock's know that Gregory exists. But if they did, maybe Roxy would envy it a bit..? Having someone look up to Freddy and not her might hurt her ego a bit.. :(

@elegysonnet

Oh no no, his top and bottom row of teeth are separate. Like these pictures here show,

(Post in question for the pictures)

The top row of teeth all fused together and became one big cracked tooth. And the bottom row did the same. But the two rows are separate and he can still open his mouth.

To think that if while he was initially melting, he had kept his mouth closed? His teeth would have melted together and he wouldn't be able to eat anything easily.. if at all.

Please don't draw fanart of any of my stuff. There are no exceptions.

(Also thank you💖)

@skellacant

Thank you! :DDD

@iziria09

You just made their night XDD

Thank you! I'm hanging in there 😅 I hope you are well too! :}}

They're dry :x

@crimson-thinker

I imagine that Bonnie Bowl might have a flashlight.? And Pirates cove would have a box of confiscated Bon-cams XD

I don't really remember what the other collectables were in the game so I don't really have a reference to go off of..

Buuuut,,, maybe from Bonnie bowl you could also get one of Bonnies signature bowling balls? A purple bowling ball with a rabbit ears print on it somewhere.

And for Pirates Cove perhaps a cheap pirate captains hat? I had this idea that there's 100s of these cheap captain hats that Foxy gives away to the kids every day. So maybe that could be a collectable too? :00

@ninaandthegames

XD Once I'm done with this project that will be me. Posting the most painful angst I can conjure up

I have not. But something tells me its about Hares/Rabbits XDD

@randox-talore

Yeah, me and some friends theorized about that. We thought "Maybe Vanessa or William is taking care of the animatronics and keeping them clean"

But even if they were, you cant help certain wears and tears. They would look noticeably worn, stained, torn in some places and a bit brittle in others after so many years of just existing.

They also missed out on a lot of scares by making them pristine. Bonnie's face could have had a crack/split down the side. "Oh yeah that's been there for a while, its fine" Only for it to fall of later in the movie revealing these piercing red eyes and a Childs head lodged in Bonnie's face/jaw.

Or Chica could have her beak come off or dangle down and reveal colorful wires hanging down.. and.. is that a childs arm.?

(Post in question)

Oh yeah, he'd be scared. Even the Captain is spooked in that AU XD

@kaiserdarken (WAAA SORRY FOR ANSWERING SO LATE! I was originally going to draw something as a response to this but I never got around to it and it got burriedddd.. my apologies. Better late than never I suppose-)

I do celebrate Halloween, which means Bibi and Jangles would as well XD For Halloween I like to dress up in some way and carve pumpkins. Although I forgot to carve any this year and didn't have a good opportunity to dress up unfortunately-

I can see Bibi wanting to dress up and carve pumpkins too. But he might not actually be strong enough to puncture a pumpkin to carve it <XD He'd need some help-

Jangles would just eat all of the candy. Plus pumpkin pie and more candy-

(Again one of those asks I was going to respond to with a drawing but never got around to ittttt.. I'm sorry-)

Its been so long since you sent this I cant actually remember what it was referring to.💀 IM SO SORRY! Its still funny though! <XDD

(Another ask I was going to respond to with a comic- sorry for the lateness!)

Thank you so much! And yeah, "Jangles looks like Papyrus," I get that a lot <XD

(Yet another late ask that was meant to have a drawing attached😭 Sorry!)

(Bibi sweating profusely) "PLEASE do not die for me- I prefer you were alive--"

@minnesotamedic186 (ANOTHER late ask meant to have its own post but I got lazy😭💔Sorry!)

The basic idea for my Kirby AU is that I took the other metaknight's and added them to the Kirby Right back at Ya universe :00 I cant remember what info I shared before because this ask was sent so long ago.. but I'll just recap Axe Knights story because it has the most detail!

Axe Knight was Metaknight's first follower, and best friend. He was with Metaknight from the very beginning. They became star warriors together when they were both a bit young. Axe Knight truly believed in Metaknight. He saw greatness in his friend, he saw a true hero. And he truly believed Metaknight was going to end this war and save the world. Its because of this adoration and belief, that Axe Knight devoted himself to Metaknight and proclaimed himself to be his first follower.

It was not too long after when tragedy struck. A battle broke out and Axe knight sacrificed himself to protect Metaknight. As he lay on the ground, dying from his sacrifice.. he saw Metaknight too laying on the ground nearby. Unmoving, and in a pool of his own blood. Axe knight died with his heart twisted in grief. Thinking that his sacrifice had failed. And that his best friend had died.

Metaknight of course survived, and Axe Knights sacrifice was the only thing that saved him. But Axe Knight didn't know that before he died. Metaknight buried his best friend and left that planet in grief. Forever changed by this loss..

But Axe Knight.. wasn't totally gone. Axe died grieving, thinking that this world lost a great warrior; Metaknight. Thinking that it was so cruel Metaknight didn't get to live longer. To travel the universe and save lives. They were robbed of a hero. Because of Axe Knights failure. His soul was so disturbed that it couldn't move on. He later crawled out of his grave, with a fiery determination to make things right. To go out there and save as many lives as possible. To protect anyone he can and to help all who need him. Because that's what Metaknight would have done.

Eventually after years of blindly wandering the universe.. battling monsters and saving innocents.. he crosses paths with dreamland. He finds himself in a little town full of Cappys.. And then he runs in to a familiar face...

(ANOTHER ASK THAT WAS MEANT TO HAVE A DRAWING RESPONSE IM SORRY-)

I was going to draw a comic of Jangles making a vlog style video. "Hey guys, welcome to pranking with Jangles. Today I'm gonna prank Bibi by throwing this cheese slice at his face!"

He sneaks up behind Bibi who is sitting on a beanbag and reading or something- "Hey Bibi" He turns around

Jangles throws the cheese slice and it completely misses and just splats on the ground. "Oh oops"

Bibi: "????"

@uay778 (The last ask that I was going to draw something for and never got around to. So sorry!)

I was going to draw a comic to this where I replace the bandages with clean, fresh ones. But then they immediately get soaked with blood again XDD Its just a part of my design!

[mintytealfox]

MINTY MY FAVORITE POOKSTER EVER I COME WITH MORE DELUSIONS!!! Pausing my pirate ramblings for a bit but just IMAGINE how hard a tangled AU would go !!! Norton and Flynn have way too many similarities given how both grew up with so little, and hide behind a mask and ego all while doing some questionable things that give him the name of a criminal. Orpheus also 100% works as a mother gothel-esq figure, since gaslighting and manipulation is kind of all Orpheus has going for himself. Is this my excuse to see long hair alice? yes. yes it is.

HEY HEEYYYYYY 💞💞💞💞💞💞

OH MY GOSH RAPUNZEL AU!!!!!!!!!! 👀👀👀👀👀👀YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌

I HAD TO DRAW ONE OF THE SCENES I HAAAAD TO

HERE

And I keep thinking about the "I have a Dream" song with the

Norton: "On an Island that I own, Tan, well RESTED, and ALONE, SURROUNDED BY ENORMOUS PILES OF MONEEYYYY"

-WHEEEEZZEEEEEEEEEEE-

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Taking a break from my accomplishments, to celebrate the accomplishments of others. These were the most memorable fics I read that was updated in 2023! I am quite certain I've forgotten some REALLY awesome ones too, so feel free to reblog and add on!

Sunny's 2023 Fic Rec

BAGGINSHIELD

G Rated Fics:

Happy Accidents by Fantasyinallforms- This is one of my favorite modern universes! Just super sweet, complete with idiot in love and clumsy Thorin.

Of Hobbits and Dwarves by Wannano- This is just a really sweet story where Bilbo takes in a family of dwarves and they change his life completely.

Stoneborn by Porphyrios- In all the cabbage patch hobbit/stone born dwarf fics, this one just really stands out all on its own with Bilbo's utter bafflement of the situation at hand.

T Rated Fics:

The Antidote by Atisenia- This is such an interesting premise to a sort of Sleeping Beauty AU.

My Ego Dies by Conkers- This was the unrequited pining but not actually unrequited fic I absolutely 100% NEEDED.

Secret Angel by DomesticGoddess- This just such a fascinating AU with Thorin being an angel in a secret research facility and the twist ending was awesome!

There and Not Back Again (or, The Saving of Erebor) by femmebingley- The dwarven politics in this fic is astounding, and all the characters are so richly enhanced.

When Darkness Shines Brightest by LordOfTheRazzles- This unique take on a Persephone/Hades AU has some of the best character introspection in the fandom.

M Rated Fics:

All Ahead, Full Sail by durinsheir- This is the mermaid AU of mermaid AUs! Full of action and adventure and pirates!

Erebor Books&Cafe by thorinsbeard- Thorin is so cute in this modern soulmate fic that I can't wait to see more of!

The Kitchen Thief by mordelle- "Oh no, it's the nutty baker." BEST LINE EVER!

Makes the Whole World Blind by Chrononautical- This was such a good POV swap for a one-shot I absolutely ADORE!

Show Me My Silver Lining by BiSquared- I am still searching for a male cover of Jolene that would fit to this fic. ALL THE KUDOS!

Stranded by Ticklesivory- I really enjoyed the Sci-Fi/Fantasy clash of this fic and will be here for any and all additions to this fic!

E Rated Fics:

Bruises on the Heart by thehufflepuffhobbit- Of course Robyn never lets us down in smut, but this little soulmate AU was exactly what I was looking for with this kind of trope!

Everybody's After Love by Isclanel- I think I've reread this fic 3 times, the characterizations are just perfect in this modern best man meets the best man fic.

If You Lend a King a Hand by Cranbear- This just so well done with a PWP beginning that grows and adapts to the characters and the interactions and the relationships.

Intertwined by badskippy- I absolutely neeeeed to know the ending to this messed up Greek tragedy of a fic (affectionate).

Nothing Gained by Not Gathering Roses by rosasynstylae- Promiscuous hobbits are always a good idea, even better when they have tails.

Of Palaces and Ruins by livelongandgetiton- In the process of rereading this incredible slowburn modern AU.

Through the mist (I find you) by MiraHerondale- I can't get enough of the 'Thorin has amnesia' trope and when you add on a slice of angst and a dash of guilty smut you get this masterpiece!

Not Rated Fics:

Ambassador to Madness by SunnyRose- Because I might as well sneak a self-rec in there while I'm at it. XD

[octofaewrites]

Octofae’s Fic List™️

All of my works can be find here:

I write for a variety of fandoms, so here we go - fandoms include: Bleach, Pokémon, Winx Club, and a few others!

Bleach - IchiRuki

Series

Masaki Lives! AU

Bleach, but Masaki was the parent who lived instead of Isshin.

The Noodle Saga

Crack Series involving Ichigo pining away for Rukia while Renji is trying to protect his captain’s dignity. (He is terrible at it.)

The Mystery of the Rukongai Crater

Paranormal Investigators, but make it Hallmark!AU

Conversations with the Future In-Laws

Hypothetical scenarios where Ichigo & Rukia talk to their future in-laws.

IchiRuki Month

Collection of works for IchiRuki Month

IchiRuki Week

Collection of works for IchiRuki Week

Stand Alone Stories

Performance Review

Three Casual Acquaintances™️ start a podcast as they try to solve the mystery of the sudden death of a neighbor in their swanky apartment complex.

Operation Christmas Play

Ichigo is trying to be romantic and Urahara has the connections.

Bleach - Others

Ready, Set, Caw….?

Renji/Orihime - jokefic written for a friend! Two dingdongs try to make cookies and a random crow keeps trolling them.

Through space and time, my love belongs to you (Chapter 1)

GrimmIchiRuki - Rukia is getting married to Grimmjow and Ichigo is sad because he’s hopelessly in love with them both - his life is surely over… or is it?

This story is a multi-author, round-robin project for GIR weekend!

Other Writers: kleinegirl87, AiTsuki97, Mako_After_Dark, AriadneKurosaki

Pokémon -

Pokémon: Brilliant Diamond & Shining Pearl

Merry Mishaps

Dawn, Lucas and Berry decided to exchange presents. Their starters do a bad job of being helpful.

No pairings - Written for the Pokémon Winter Wonderland Zine 2023

Pokémon: Legends Arceus / Diamond/Pearl/Platinum - VoloKari

Series

Somewhere over the Sea

The Pirate AU that no one needed or asked for.

Conversations at the Company Water Cooler

Idiot coworkers in a situationship and too dumb to admit they’re dating.

Sweet Like Honey

Friends with Benefits™️ who are benefiting across Hisui.

As the World Falls Down

Angsty Soulmate AU, where I don’t let them be together.

Volokari Week

Collection of stories I did for Volokari Week 2023

Stand Alone Stories

Déjà Vu - I’ve just been in this Place Before

I want to be cool and do a reimagining of PL:A; I’m just not cool.

Time Won’t Fly (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)

Akari not in a good place.

Doll (Dead Dove - MIND THE TAGS)

Akari is not having a good time. Set in BumbleTee’s Cop AU

When My World Shakes, I Feel Alive

Sweet conversation between Dawn/Volo after getting her drunk idiot roommates to bed.

Shopping is Serious Business

Crackfic. Volo’s real punishment for trying to subjugate Arceus is having to go shopping with his daughter and her equally high maintenance friend.

Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Arviana

Safe & Sound

Juliana is tired from her near death experiences and meeting ghosts and gets a much needed Arven-hug.

Sucker.

Arven can’t tell Ogerpon no.

Treasure

Arven reflects on how his family is his treasure

Paradise is Nothing but a Smile

Arviana Picnic Date!

And, maybe it was ego swinging

The AU where Turo pulled his head out of his ass and was a parent to Arven.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Juliana made it back from Blueberry Academy and is beyond glad to be reunited with Arven

Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Draymine

I created a Discord Server for Draymine, Arviana, and Kiercey - Other ships are welcome! It can be joined HERE - (18+ Please!)

Series

You are in Love

An on-going series featuring snapshots through Drayton and Carmine’s relationship.

Stand Alone Stories

Well, this is a choice

Jokefic - Kieran sees that Crispin has awful dragon claws for feet and Drayton and Carmine’s alone time keeps getting interrupted.

Elevator Woes, Smash Bros, and Mistletoe

Jokefic - Crispin is the only single guy in his friend group and the elevator rides of Blueberry Academy are long ones. Established Draymine and Kiercey in the background.

a lot to live without

Sometimes, life doesn't go the way one wants it to. TW: Major Character Death.

Pokémon: Scarlet & Violet - Kiercey

Kieran & Lacey.

Building a Home

Just a moment in a post-canon setting in which Kieran and Lacey are quite silly.

[evajellion]

SMRPG AU where Smithy wins

OKAY HERE IT GOES-

So hypothetically, let's say Mario, Peach and Bowser just completely vanish after Exor crashes down. Either they straight up died or got isekai'd to Smithy's realm by accident, idk I will let the rest of you figure it out.

Years and years pass, Geno can't really get the Star Pieces without Mario and co. so… Smithy just, straight up takes over Star Road and lets his minions do whatever.

Here's what we thought up-

Smithy: Bowser's Castle was nice, but after learning what the Star Pieces did, Smithy went directly to the source and took over Star Road himself as its new overlord. He built an entire factory around it and over the years, is now known as "he who grants wishes".

Of course, much like the main villain in "Wish" (terrible movie btw), Smithy only grants wishes that he likes. He ignores wishes that are selfless or relevant to one's family, and only grants stuff relative to wealth, gain, or wanting to win.

It's less out of malice and more out of ignorance, really. He doesn't see any value in wanting things that have no material value or glory.

Mack/Claymorton: After ambushing the castle, Mack became the new ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, but he said the name was stupid and changed it to the Claymore Kingdom.

There are, a lot of parties, almost every week. He's a complete tyrant who threatens and torments the Toads to the point where the Chancellor actually wishes Bowser would come back. If he gets bored? He decides to wage war on another kingdom "for fun".

He's getting an ego about it too, which some joke is just "him compensating for his size".

Bowyer: Honestly no one has any clue what Bowyer does. Some treat him like an actual forest cryptid that haunts the maze because he's been in there so long. People who enter the forest now never come back.

Bowyer doesn't understand the concept of killing anyone really, so it's not like forest intruders are dead. He just thinks it's fun to play "freeze tag but you're frozen for good" with anyone who comes by. Essentially, it's all a hunting game to him.

He probably views all his immobile visitors as trophies more than anything else.

Yaridovich/Speardovich: Eventually, he succeeds in duping someone to fight Jonathan and takes the Star Piece for himself. Smithy grants him his promotion and he is made mayor of Seaside Town, and he is a captain of his own crew of Drill Bits.

Jonathan is none too happy about this and makes beef with Yaridovich every day over what he had done. Jonathan prides himself on being a good fighter, but unfortunately, Yaridovich fights dirty.

Eventially, Yaridovich made a habit out of pirating other incoming ships himself. He wonders if doing this will get more promotion from Smithy, but… Smithy seems to have been ignoring him.

Axem Rangers: After beating up the Czar Dragon, Smithy suggests they take care of Nimbus Land since it's "uncomfortably close for his liking". They immediately make themselves known by exposing Valentina's lies and kicking her out, inadvertently making them heroes.

Axem Red and Pink take a lot of pride in removing Valentina and being adored by residents of Nimbus Land, but Black isn't happy with it at all and wants to go back to causing chaos. Green is neutral about the whole thing.

Axem Yellow meanwhile, managed to turn Dodo to their side simply by calling the large bird a "good boy" and giving him legumes as a treat.

Boomer: He's the shogun of Bowser's Castle, but nothing more. He guards Exor as he always did, and commands Smithy's Army, striking down anyone who dare cross his lord.

However, he isn't exactly happy with his position. He knows not to question Smithy, so he just… remains quiet about it. At the very least, he's humored by Axem Red's new heroic personality.

But he also fears if Red will turn on Smithy since he's so bent on appearing as "hero" for Nimbus Land. Boomer dad moments. :')

Exor & Count Down: Stationary. Exor is happy but Count Down seems bitter he cannot do more, he's kind of stranded and stir crazy.

Cloaker & Domino: They moved out of Smithy's dimension (much to Count Down's further frustration/loneliness) and settled into Marrymore for… obvious reasons.

Smithy doesn't mind so long as they can distribute. Domino quickly took advantage by becoming the most well-known medicine/potion seller in the land, kinda like Fairy Godmother. Excuses to depict Domino in sexy business glasses for my one friend who thirsts for him lmao.

Factory Chief: A second factory was built up in Star Road, that Smithy had taken charge of, so the Chief is now fully in charge of the old one inside of Exor! He's pretty happy about it.

The Director's son (because he has one for some reason?) is also working in the new factory while his father, the Clerk, and the Manager remain in the old one with the Chief. They all seem very happy, but the Director's son wonders if what Smithy is doing is right…

Gunyolk: Not used to having brothers. He was created by the Chief exclusively, and is now being mass produced, but… he liked it when it was only him and "papa".

Hypnosis Priest: She resides in Star Hill, discarding of wishes that Smithy tossed out. Essentially, she turned the entirety of the Mushroom Kingdom into a cult that worships Smithy as their Star Road overlord, with her as the leader of it.

And that's all I got, hi, feel free to throw anymore suggestions!!! :D

[minecraftfan11onscratch]

(Jeebus, finally finished these two artworks after 3-4 days)

It's been a while since I posted about this AU, but not only I posted a 2nd oneshot and organized it and the first one in a series ('tis here!), but I finally settled on swapping Magolor and Ribbon's roles and, to an extent, their plotlines.

More elaboration under the cut!

Even though they swap roles - down to Magolor being a sincere ally and Ribbon turning out to be a traitor and the final boss - they carry their OG plotlines (Magolor escaping from Landia, Ribbon escaping from her wrecked home), only with the necessary tweaks (only elaborating a bit because the one-shots about these two are on the works and I don't wanna spoil too much, but in a nutshell, Magolor needs help to gather the shards of The Master Crown, and Ribbon needs the now-five shards of the Crystal).

Magolor is a boastful space pirate and aspirant for theme park owner, with a penchant for talking with slang (the "Totally Radical" slang is sincere this time around). Appears to be THE annoyance, but when the chips are down, he proves his worth and genuine courage.

Ribbon, watching the Fairy Queen be corrupted with ease, sincerely believes that things will be better in Ripple Star if she takes over. She knows to a degree it is a bad idea, but is committed to it. ...which turns out to be the very thing that sets her against the ones who helped her free her people in the first place.

Personality-wise, the "Return to Dream Land" gang keeps the same dynamics. The "64" in a nutshell, though... is basically Adeleine trying to play peacemaker between Meta Knight and Magolor's egos, Bandee's sass when it comes to these egos, and then-newcomer Kirby's childlike wonder.

Ribbon x Kirby is still a thing! ...though, the "Return to Dream Land" plotline equivalent will not be merciful to either of them.

[mega-punani]

A request for the pirate AU (I absolutely love it btw) but how would the boys react to the MC being like papyrus and being surprisingly smooth with their words. Basically how would they react to a good flirt that flusters them?

I got an image that kinda shows how they might react here. But I wanna write it out 2 soooooooo

Flirty MC Reactions:

Sans: OH. OHHHHHHHHHHH. Sans doesn't know what to say. In fact, he is unable to speak at all. He'll stutter away as he tries to find a way to excuse himself appropriately. Darn, he's usually much more composed than this...

Papyrus: He's flustered. Face flushed, he's going to wiggle around, trying to find the right words to thank you with. He's incredibly happy, of course. You just gave him such a suave compliment!

Blue: Mans is kicking his feet and giggling. You've brightened his day, maybe even his week. He'll act coy but won't stop you from praising and rizzing him up. Definitely puffs out his chest when you're around-

Stretch: Hwa- Stretch is flabbergasted. Nothing will be said untill you stop and leave. Of course, the moment you leave, he's breaking down in hysterics. When we're you still smooth?????

Red: Red appreciates a good flirt. As you keep talking, he'll slowly back you up to the wall and lean an arm near your head. He's soaking up all that attention, and at this rate, you two should just make out!

Edge: He's embarrassed as hell. Sure, Edge appreciates a good compliment here and there, but mostly, it has to do with work. You talk so highly of everything about him. For the first time, he has no idea what to do-

Razz: Razz will definitely just scoff. His ego is so big that your measly words would not falter it. But if you catch him in time, he'll look away and fam his face furiously. How dare you reduce him to THIS by simply speaking!

Cash: Most of the time, Cash gets skeptical, but he'll push it aside if it's you. After all, he doesn't get a lot of positive attention, and he needs as much as he can nab. He'll probably flirt back all with a sly grin on his face.

Bear: "oh..." This is literally the only thing he'll say to you as you go on to talking. Most of the time, Bear thinks conversation is annoying, but you have such a way with words. A steady blue will rise up his spine to his cheekbones the longer the interaction continues.

Cinnamon: Literally hiding his face in his hands. If you try to pry his hands off his face, he will resist and attempt to shake you off. He can't let you see the gargantuan smile on his face, or you'll know his weakness! Compliments!

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Noble Blood - Medieval Fantasy AU

Fandom: Call of Duty

Word Count: 3718

Chapter: 1/?

Relationship: Knight!John "Soap" MacTavish X OC

Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, original characters

Summary: Nanette Oakley is the young daughter of a farmer. She is sent on an errand by her parents, to take a basket of goods to their good friend, Mrs MacTavish. While there, someone Nanette thought she'd never see again turns up.

A/N: this was not written recently but it is a WIP that I go back to between the pirate au and other little fics for Jodie and Frank. This was actually not meant to be the main story for my medieval fantasy au... that was supposed to be Franca and Simon... alas, these two stole my heart and their story is my favourite from this au so yeah.

Usually, the market that took place on the last weekend of the month was always extremely busy; that morning was no deviation from the tradition of the mad market rush. Every square inch of the palace’s vast outer courtyard was brimming with hustling life, bodies squirming around the temporary striped cloth stalls. At times, the people perusing through the market would seldom find a chance to stop and catch their breath, nor to parry a caustic remark to others of the inconvenient bustle. 

Amongst those hurried souls, a young woman had spent most of that rushed morning dashing about the market; she was effortlessly ducking underneath moving baskets, between the flurry of colourful fabrics, around other oblivious market-goers. Nanette Oakley was used to the frantic climate, but she could not say with any mirth what her true feelings of having to deal with it were - though she would admit through a heaving sigh that, yes, it would most definitely keep her on her toes, the fighting ring known as the market. 

That being said, she would also gladly admit that she wasn’t overly fond of the idea of having to intervene in a literal fight, which was something to occur more often than it should. Maybe it was the busyness of the market, the heat of everyone crammed inside the tall battlements that shielded the courtyard. A hysteria would sometimes settle amongst a few stall owners and fights would break out. Laughable fights, mind you, but fights nonetheless and they could be draining on the moneybag. 

One month it was the leather vendor, nestled just around the corner from the local tavern, starting a verbal altercation with his brother, the local butcher. Another month it was a locksmith who had come from out of town and set up shop just a few metres away from the currently active locksmith’s humble abode and workshop, with the aim of stealing away her customers. 

But Nanette was not one of those types to blindly fling a balled fist at just anyone or for any old reason, which she noted was often the trigger for most brawls that took place. No, Nanette did not have an ego made of glass or a short, unchecked temper, but she did have a father who needed protection from others who might mean him harm, whether that be of the physical or emotional kind. 

Wilbur Oakley’s daughter would only get feisty if her father or his stall was accosted by the wrong crowds, snooping vendors hoping to see what prices his wares were with the intention of selling theirs for less, or idiots who wanted to bad mouth her father. You see, Wilbur was gentle, soft at the core, and his green fingers had earned him the love of their little village and others around the kingdom. He worked himself to the bone on their farm and worked himself harder to make sure that his family were cared for. So, when Nanette was old enough to join him on the few markets that required two vendors for his stall (for the sheer amount of vegetables and fruits he had to take and people that would come like a flock of birds) he was glad for his little bodyguard. In the face of her father needing defending, Nanette could put aside her own gentleness to protect him.

At this moment, though, the market’s hustling crowds had begun to die down to a small hum, with some stalls beginning to pack up and ready for their journey back home. Nanette, however, had been given a new errand to run. When her father had handed her a pristine wicker basket, fresh cotton wrapped around a loaf of bread her mother had made, fresh fruit and vegetables from their farm nestled within, her only instruction was to head to a small cottage on the outskirts of the palace’s outer courtyard. She was told it would be a short walk along a stream past the eastern side’s gate and soon she could see the small collection of cottages that she was told to look out for. 

Within this small castle village lived a dear friend of her parents, one that she had grown up knowing , but, in her more conscious years of childhood, she’d lost contact with. When contact resumed, it was usually her mother who would be the one to visit, however an illness had taken her health and so Nanette didn’t mind stepping up to the task, despite it being years she’d last seen the friend. 

Eventually, the young woman came across the sage green door she was instructed to keep her eye out for, as well as the collection of thistles and heather in the front garden. Wrapping her knuckles on the door, Nanette then stepped back, patting down her skirt and picking stray bits of cotton fluff from her corset and shirt. As the door was pulled open, she finished making sure that the flyaway frizz of her hair was under control, before she peered forward to the lady standing in the doorway. Wearing a slightly tired smile, Nanette uttered, “hello, Mrs MacTavish!” 

“Aye, that’s me, lass,” came the jovial reply. The woman was shorter than Nanette, thick, coarse hair pulled back into a low bun and though she was aged, it was full of a deep lush brown colour; there were few strands of white hair to betray the woman’s age. Of course, there were also a few mentions of laughter lines on the woman’s features, dotted with freckles and tiredness under the eyes. The woman, Mrs MacTavish, spoke again, “it’s been such a long time since I last saw you, lass, come on in why don’t you.” 

With that, a calloused hand reached out and took the crook of Nanette’s elbow, gently urging inside until she was past the threshold and the door was closed behind her, “oh, and please, call me Moraig, we’re no strangers, you know.” 

There was a light laugh that sounded in the older woman’s chest, and soon they were nestled at the oak table settled in the middle of the dining area; this was shared with an open kitchen, fire blazing and heating up the place. A few moments passed, then the wicker basket was pushed slightly towards Moraig, “my parents sent me with this, they send me with their love, too - mum would have come herself but she’s not very well.” 

“You know, I knew your Ma was comin’ down with somethin’ awful last I saw her. Do we know what it is?” Moraig’s brows furrowed in concern, but there was a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, like a feeling of ‘I tried to tell her’ but whatever advice she had given her mother had fallen on deaf ears. Sometimes that was the case with her parents, they were stubborn to a fault. 

“Not yet, but I have a feeling that it’ll take a while for it to pass, I’ve asked her to see the apothecary in our village, but-” 

“Oh you know what she’s like, she’ll wanna get rid of this herself,” Moraig sighed, “but if I have to go down there and talk sense into her, then I will, it’s been a while since I visited you lot.” 

A rush of feet sounded down the stairs, then two girls, one barely even thirteen and the other bristling at a similar age to Nanette, burst into the room. 

“Is Auntie Adaline alright?” came one worried question, then another followed with similar sentiments. Both girls were the spitting image of their mother, the younger had rosier cheeks, hair raging with curls; the other was a similar height to Nanette and straighter hair, though the colour was a lighter, muted brown unlike her sister and mother. Two sets of eyes were darting between their mother and the woman sitting at the table, one a deep brown and other a piercing light blue gaze. 

“Of course she is, don’t you worry,” Moraig huffed, rolling her eyes fondly at her children. 

A brief pause. 

“Wait, Nannie? That you?” The older girl was smiling, brown eyes honied with mirth and excitement. 

“That can’t be Nannie, she’s too big,” came the little girl’s retort, brows knitting together in scrutiny as she looked Nanette over. 

“Girls, I see you remember Nanette,” Moraig chuckled, and Nanette stood up. A flood of childhood memories came rushing back and she recalled just how much the two of them had grown. 

“Gods, I remember when you were so small,” Nanette chuckled, arms stretching out into an inviting hug. Lesley, the elder daughter, rushed into her arms, “it’s been years! You big lummox, why’d you stop visitin’?”

Eventually, after Nanette let her laughter die down, she replied, “I had to grow up, Lesley, dad needed help… I’m sorry.” 

“S’alright, I’ll let it slide this time.” 

“You really are Nannie then? Even though you’re big.” This was Bridget. 

“Yes, it is, are you going to hug me now or what?” Nanette huffed, puffing out a cheek to emphasise her playful hurt. Bridget finally rushed over and gave her a huge squeeze, though it was more around her legs than her body. For her age, Bridget was still very small. 

“It’s nice to see it's like no time’s passed with you three,” Moraig smiled, there seemed to be a tear to her eye, too, “now the question is, are you stayin’ for a little while? I started with some water on the fire, should be about ready for makin’ a brew.” 

“Can I have one ma?” Bridget asked, soon discarding the hug for a place at the table, wandering hands moving to the wicker basket. Without even looking, Moraig had plucked a handkerchief from the breast pocket of her dress, swatting at the little hand now peeking into the fruits, “of course you can, but you’re not usin’ as much honey as you did last time, hard to come by as it is without you usin’ it all up, little cub.” 

“I can stay a while,” Nanette informed, “it’ll be nice to catch up…” 

There was a slight feeling of guilt, as it truly had been too long since she last had the chance; she must have just turned fifteen the last she saw the girls and now she was… well, she was ten years on, now. 

----

Time seemed to have passed so quickly, but when in the throes of conversation, who can blame one for not keeping their eye on it. Nanette and the girls were chatting like they truly hadn’t been apart for so long and Moraig was happy to listen to them get along like they did as children. It was also nice to see that the dynamics hadn’t changed and Moraig could sense that, had she been given the opportunity, Nanette would have made a brilliant big sister; lucky for the girl, her two daughters had decided she would be the perfect candidate for themselves. It caused a laugh to grow in her chest and if they still seemed so close now, she wondered just how close they would be had time not kept them apart. 

All the while, the weather had turned dark and clouds rolled over the sky in a disastrous haze of thunder and lightning, rain hashing down on the lands below unrelenting. It seemed that, Moraig thought to herself, Nanette wouldn’t have had a choice but to stay anyway. The woman was pulled back to the conversation at hand when her eldest daughter slammed her hand on the table emphatically. 

“Yeah, an’ then d’you remember what my idiot brother decided to do then?” Lesley huffed, hands clawing down her features as she recalled the embarrassing memory for her friend. Nanette was trying her best not to let the smile break through, but failed miserably at the task and Lesley almost groaned and abandoned the story. With a flurry of encouragement from Nanette and little Bridget, who was desperate to hear this story again, Lesley continued, though her tone betrayed just how much she hated this gossip. Still, Nanette needed updating on everything. 

“He decided that Robert wasnae good enough and chased him away with a big st-” 

The front door whipped open as a crack of thunder and flash of lightning filled the room. The droplets of heavy rain left wet debris on the floor, as a hunkering figure hovered in the doorway, covered in a completely soaked cape, lined with heavy furs. The hood obscured the features, but the girls could guess that this person was probably not best pleased with the weather. 

“Bleeding hell,” came a gruff voice from under the hood, as the body moved further into the warm, dry home, muddy foot kicking the door closed behind them. From what Nanette could see, this person was clad in leather armour, though protection was its purpose it hadn’t protected them from the cold or the rain. They spoke again, “it’s pishin it doon-”

“Mind what you say in this house,” came a firm warning from Moraig, who was already on her feet and heading into a different room, only to return with dry clothes and blankets, “why on earth, lad, are you here in this weather? I tell you again and again, stay at the castle.” 

The hood was drawn down, as numbed fingers felt for the clasp holding the cape around this person’s shoulders. It was then that it hit Nanette. 

“You know the sayin’? Speak of the devil?” Lesley rolled her eyes, then shouted up to her brother, “oi, you gonna stand there all night or what?” 

Nanette became very stiff as she sat at the table, unable to figure out just how she should carry herself in the presence of John MacTavish. Part of her was glad that he hadn’t noticed her yet.

“Pipe down, you,” came his huff, his back turned to the girls at the table, “bet all you’ve all day is sit about and do nothin’.”

“Have not!” Lesley jabbed back, rising to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. 

“Have too.” He replied, still not looking over. 

“Have no-” 

“One more word out of you two and I swear to the Gods.” Moraig snapped, taking the soaked cape from the man’s hands, “now, mind yer mouth, we got guests.” 

It was at this point that all eyes in the room were on her, watching her every move and silently judging how she conducted herself. Like a statue, Nanette was stone, frozen to the spot and unable to will her body to do anything other than just remain seated. Her hands were pooled in her lap, fingers intertwined with each other out of nervousness - her mouth had run completely dry and her throat threatened to croak if she attempted to speak, so she opted for remaining silent. 

There was a hope that she was appearing indifferent to his presence, but her physicality would always betray her; in shock (or was it awe?) her lips were slightly parted, jaw loose. Yes, she wished that she could say she looked away, was unaffected, but the truth was that just looking at him seemed to stir up some sort of emotion. 

The young woman couldn’t decide what emotion it was specifically, as there were so many rushing to be the first to surface in her chest, but she could guarantee that none of them were good. There was a moment where she tried to convince herself that her eyes were deceiving her.  

 That couldn’t be John MacTavish, the John of her childhood. The John she knew had been her best friend, her protector, and one day he just disappeared. He’d up and gone without so much as a word of it to her, leaving her in a gaping void that used to hold him, and what was she supposed to do but deal with it.

Now, here he stood, as though he’d been here the entire time she’d been without him. 

Yes, Nanette could not, for one moment, name any of the emotions that she was feeling, but she reiterated to herself that, now she had a moment to process, they were most definitely not good at all.

As for John, he was awash with nostalgia, longing, guilt. His gaze had found her quickly, followed by his brows rising sharply in bewilderment, he couldn’t quite believe that the girl he knew had grown into quite the beautiful woman. In this moment, he became acutely aware of everything, how he felt, both emotionally, physically; how water dripped from his hair, down his forehead and off the end of his nose; how his clothes clung to his body uncomfortably; how heavy the leather armour was; how she was staring at him. Was she staring at him because she couldn’t remember him? Or was it because he looked as though he’d just gone for a swim in the moat around the castle on his way back home?

Maybe it was none of those things. 

Maybe it was all of them. 

The two younger girls watched with bated breath, unsure of what was going on. They weren’t privy to the two’s history, so couldn’t understand the silent war going on in the room, but they could feel that something was off. The bright, cheerful feeling that had captured Nanette was now slowly fading and leaving something entirely horrible and heavy behind.

“Miss Oakley?” John’s voice was quiet, soft, in comparison to how it had sounded with his sister. Assertiveness had left a place for softness, tentative tones guarding the conversation against, what he anticipated to be, an upcoming argument. It had been years since they last spoke and part of him invited that argument, if only it meant that he could be reminded of what her voice sounded like; would it even be the same? She had changed so much, could he even begin to imagine the person she was now? 

Nanette drew her gaze down, away from him, and to her hands in her lap. She became fiercely aware of each crevice that created the mapping of hand prints, the small curvatures of each line that defined her fingertips. It was all very clear, like crystalline ice surfacing a lake in winter, so sharp and defined. In drastic comparison, she could feel heat rise in her chest, like a fire burning away at coal in a stove and his voice was the stoker urging the flames higher. Nanette couldn’t decide if this emotion was settling to become annoyance or anger, but either way, he was causing it and she did not like it. 

Rising to her feet, she patted down her skirt, adjusted her clothing, her hair, then offered a short-lived smile towards the girls and their mother, “thank you for having me, Moraig, it’s been lovely to see you again. Girls.” She bowed her head in acknowledgement, before she was making for the door. 

“It’s rainin’,'' Lesley called out, tripping over her own feet in the rush to be at Nanette’s side, “you’ll catch your death of cold out there!” Quick patters of smaller strides soon joined at Lesley’s side; Bridget was reaching out to grab at Nanette’s hand and when the warm little fingers clasped on so tightly, the woman finally halted. 

“Please stay, Nannie,” the little girl pouted, eyes wide and watery, bottom lip protruding so comically in an effort to get her own way. But, Nanette had spent too long there, her parents would be needing her now it was crawling ever-closer to nightfall, and she had other errands to be doing. 

“I really should go, but you’ll see me again,” she urged, bending down slightly at the hip, free hand coming to tap the young girl’s nose as the other hand gave an encouraging squeeze to the girl’s fingers. Bridget sighed, shrugging her shoulders exaggeratedly, before she conceded and gave Nanette the go to leave, “you promise?” 

“Promise.” Nanette crossed her finger over her chest, just above her heart, smiling all the while. Satiated, the girls stepped back, knowing that if anyone was going to stop her leaving, due to the weather, it would be their strong-headed Ma. 

“If you must go now, then at least let my boy take you home, it’s gettin’ dark out and I’m no fond of the kinds’a people that hang around in the night, not to mention it's a good long walk from here on down to your home,'' Moraig huffed, eyebrow raised as though to beg Nanette to disagree, less she wanted an earful. Oh, it may have been a long time since she had seen the girl, but Moraig didn’t see herself as less of an auntie-figure, her mother’s best friend and a good woman. That meant the girl would get the same worried treatment as she gave her own children. 

With a slight pause, a twitch of annoyance tugging at the corner of Nanette’s mouth, there was a moment where there may have been some choice words used in response to Moraig; Nanette respected her, though, even after all this absence in her life, and so would respect her will. 

With a defeated nod, Nanette was then offered some warmer clothes and a cape, done so by Lesley, “it might be a bit small, but it’s better than what you’ve got, or… not got.” Though the young girl supposed that there had been no warning of this bad shade of weather, it had been lovely and warm all day. Softly, in response, Nanette took the cape and thicker coat, “thank you.” 

As Lesley was sorting out Nanette, Moraig was thrusting a dry cape into her son's hands, a pointed look on her face, a warning, perhaps. Her grip on the cape remained a little longer than was necessary and John shook his head, amused but apprehensive of his mothers antics. His mother was a woman abound with great intuition and John knew that this ‘silence’ between himself and his childhood friend did not go unnoticed; he could also hazard a guess that his mother had figured out why, too. 

“Behave you two and make sure the girl gets home safe,” Moraig said. 

Regimentally, John nodded, shoulders squaring at his ma’s command and soon, once prepared for the harsh weather, the two exited the home.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Jenson/Nico

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

hi, anon. thank you - that's so kind. 🥹🫶 I hope you enjoy some of these!

quick disclaimer: this rec list doesn't have even half of the Jenson/Nico fics that I have enjoyed in the past. however, it is really important to me that I have the consent of every author featured before sharing my lists. a majority of the fics for this pairing were written in the early 2010s, and so contacting the authors is not possible. I would suggest going through the tag, which you can do here. ❤️

Percentages by @effervescentdragon | T | 2.6k A Nico and Jenson soulmates AU. As always, the author gets the characterisation so right - they are both so complex here, but so well fleshed out and human, and it is so enjoyable to read. This is such a unique and beautiful take on the soulmate AU trope.

'The tiny patch of skin where Jenson's fingers were touching Nico's neck felt like the starting point for an electric shock. The only similar feeling Nico could think about was the feeling of the full engine power underneath him.'

Here with me—Us together by @colors-of-feeling | Unrated | 3.8k Nico shares the news that he's retiring. This is such an achingly tender story - some of the emotional beats here actually took my breath away. The different relationships, the different emotions throughout each conversation. The domesticity! Beautiful. A stunning fic!

'The house is quiet when he enters, but Jenson’s bag and coat litter the floor of the foyer. He smiles to himself and pads up the stairs in socked feet.'

Someone to Stay by @colors-of-feeling | M | 5.4k Nico and Jenson talk about the 'Britney' nickname. This is essential Nico/Jenson reading! The characterisation is absolutely beautiful. One thing that I really love about this author's writing is the way they build tension and emotion - it is so atmospheric and so easy to get lost in.

'First kisses are never perfect, but their’s feels like home. The anxiousness that lives in Nico’s chest quiets down, and he can just focus on what his body is feeling.'

Vielleicht, Vielleicht by @effervescentdragon | M | 6.3k Nico is the the best and the worst thing that's ever happened to Jenson. This is the Princess Cake fic. The dynamic here is just absolutely spot on. Bittersweet, tender, and suitably messy - I loved this so much.

'He didn’t need to ask, he knew Nico would tell him anyway, in a way that’s going to hurt, because Nico’s ego just took a hit, and he never could just deal with it, just accept it, no. He always had to punch back.'

Open Waters by @n-ico-ando | M | 13k (wip) Nico avoids a political marriage by joining pirate Jenson and his crew. I absolutely love this one so far! The development of their relationship has been just delicious - the author is fantastic at tension and character development. I can't wait to see where this goes!

'Nico just blushes and Jenson finds himself fascinated at the way the tinges of pink spread across his pale skin, and the way his brows furrow further, tracking the movements like he tracks the ocean currents. He feels himself drawn slightly closer despite the threat of the knife.'

[imsparky2002]

Miraculous Animal AU - Couffaine Family Headcanons

Luka and Juleka were newborns in the same room, orphaned and tiny. Two of the farm's older attractions, a crocodile named Jagged and a parrot named Anarka, felt a bond towards the babies and took them in as their children.

Jagged is the pet croc of Fang, a wild and loveable rockstar. Whenever he and Anarka go away to be backstage at a concert, they always bring their kids along.

Anarka has a habit of talking like a pirate, since she's spent most of her life outside the farm as the parrot for a children's entertainer at birthday parties. She's not too big of a fan of the law, and often pecks and poops on the cops. A police dog named Roger (Sabrina's dad) is not amused.

Jagged has the ego of a rocker, even if he's just a pet. Whenever he sings, the animals find it beautiful, but all humans hear are hisses and growls. Even if he can be a diva, he still adores his friends and family.

Luka and Juleka love both of their parents equally, but the snake is more of a momma's boy, while the tiger is more of a daddy's girl.

The parents were the biggest cheerleaders for their kids when they found a mate, or in Luka's case, 3 mates. They know if anything happens to their babies, a pecking or chomping attack is coming for anyone who harms them.

I would love to hear your additional ideas in the reblogs and comments! @artzychic27 @msweebyness @nerd-chocolate