#Cursed Shifters

[femalebookworm]

MC: Serafine, Jarom, Alerik, Eike

This dystopian shifters romance is book 1/4 in Cursed Shifters series. Not that long in pages, 279 of them, but its typical reading time is about 5h35m. Not that I'm complaining, but I'm a bit fucked in the head by starting this book when my kindle isn't even at 100% (it was around 8% on V-Day's afternoon when I was reading the previous book, also about magic), but at 30% with the WiFi on. And yes, I'm typing this on a tiny phone. The review is posted mainly cause I got a hand on a desktop I could use. So, yay, this is seeing the light of day! Ps: I managed to finish reading this despite my allergy attacks that often made me read the same line 10x.

Technology hungry scientists in 21st century end up discovering a dimension that supposed to have made life greater, instead what came through this veil, rift, were fae; their mere presence destroyed the very fabric of technology, and dumped the tech fanatics into a frenzy – according to their story. This story tells the events of what happens a thousand years later. Just a background story, that tech died and humans were back to Middle Ages, alongside humans and fae. The Fae King issued a prophecy of The Six, and they would rule the human world while the fae returned to their side and the rift was closed. Except, not all made back. And this is their story.

Serafine was told her whole life that her mother sold her to a tyrant for a few coins. She's hated her mother for twenty years. She's been tortured for twenty years. Until one day she's in charge of fetching an item during a storm. She never makes there, but she ends up encountering her fate. 3 of them. 3 wolf shifters. I placed them on MC, but they are only connected to it, there's no POV other than Serafine's. With the help of her to-be mates and a pure magical being, she uncovers great power. She even gets her prison, she even gets the men. She also kinda starts a war.

By the end, a friend is missing and she knows the enemy will come to shifter wolf territory soon. And then the sneak peek, and the next main 3 men will be dragons. Me love some dragons. And yes, next book is on my to-read list already. Wallet will be on the ready. So will my lotto ticket cause at this point I'll need to be loaded to afford all.

Onto the next book!

[bardicblast]

night of the full moon

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS24 ONe Shot: "On Wings of Storm"

This canon divergent AU was intended to be a shifter one shot, but I don't know that the character is a shifter in the strictest sense, as there is a curse and magic involved. It is set sometime post Milah's death in Season Two, and then embarks on a different path from there...

I apologize ahead of time for any errors that I might need to come back and fix; I was writing this right up to midnight and didn't have enough time to edit fully. My beta for this year's @cssns @myfearless-love did absolutely brilliant work, catching so many typos and run-ons and confusing phrases. She was invaluable and deserves so much love for all her help! Anything left over is 100% my fault for hurrying to finish.

**I am thrilled to be reposting now with the gorgeous cover artwork created for me by @motherkatereloyshipper! She captured so well the drama and intensity of the ship's danger during the storm and the petrel coming to her aid. I just love it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you SO MUCH @motherkatereloyshipper!**

Please enjoy, and I'd love to hear what you think!!

Summary: Killian Jones has lost everything and everyone he ever held dear. All that is left for him is vengeance and pain. None could have expected the strange twist of Fate that would change everything, or the surprising companion that will come to touch his heart in ways he would have no longer thought possible.

“On Wings of Storm” 

By: @snowbellewells

“Attention, you bilge rats!” His angry voice rang out unmistakably over the planks of the majestic ship - carrying clearly despite the buffeting wind and rolling sea beneath. The power in the sharply accented words cracked like a whip, causing every member of his crew to flinch nervously and stand at attention to do their captain’s bidding and avoid his ire. Those who made their home and livelihood upon the Jolly Roger - even the few remaining grizzled veterans who’d once served on her decks when she was the Jewel of the Realm - knew her captain’s temper was perpetually on a knife’s edge. The harshness and cruelty of the lives they all lived, and the loss and betrayal Captain Jones had weathered, would bow and break many. It was understood not to cross those who had survived and been hardened by it.

Yet, even with that knowledge, the cause of his current tirade was unclear. When the ship had docked at the remote port, some had stayed aboard to handle various duties and keep watch while others went ashore to roam and shop, or to visit inns or brothels, but all had been attending to their assigned duties and nothing was amiss. However, the thunderous look upon their Captain’s dark brow spoke volumes. Something was amiss, and he would see it put to rights. Pity the fool who was found at fault. The cutlass at his hip bounced gently against his leg, and the still awe-inspiring metal appendage which had replaced his left hand mere months ago glinted menacingly in the low moonlight as he paced back and forth, eyeing each man with an intensity that would make anyone tremble.

It was old Mullins who finally dared to put the question to the Captain gingerly when no further explanation or action seemed forthcoming. “What is it that’s angered ye, Cap’n?” he queried respectfully, head bowed in deference as his speech drew Killian Jones’ attention. “We’ve been here aboard the Jolly and at our post since ye left. Did something happen on shore?”

Killian’s attention zeroed intently on the graying Mullins, who quickly gave another bob of his chin in respect or acknowledgement. Not about to contradict their captain, but also not knowing what had upset him, none of them could move to make it right. Those piercing blue eyes, like ice chips in Mullins’ shuddering imagination, beneath the dark, forbidding brows he used to great effect, seemed to be searching his subordinate’s face and sifting his words for any hint of dissension or deception. Finding nothing of the kind, the volatile man’s gaze swept over the rest of the crew assembled around him nervously for some time before offering the explanation in a menacing growl.

“It has come to my attention - and make no mistake, even a scoundrel such as meself has loyal allies - that some of you are dissatisfied with your position aboard this vessel. Let me be crystal clear; a place aboard the Jolly Roger is an honor and a prize - she is a marvel unmatched in speed and quality throughout the realm. However, your presence here is entirely voluntary. I have never, and will never, tolerate the enslavement of any crew member on the Jolly. Such dishonor shall not taint her decks. So, if any of you wish to depart, then by all means, leave now. But be warned; spreading false tales of captivity or coercion, thereby sullying our flag and reputation, will not be tolerated. Such lies will be rooted out and those responsible will face severe consequences.”

He paused, clearly waiting for any who might be bold enough to disembark under his watchful eye and be noted for their decision. None upon the deck moved or spoke, and old Mullins noted sadly that the only sound or hint of motion was the heavy breathing that escaped the Captain’s mouth and the heaving of his chest, evidenced by what had clearly been an angry charge from the town’s center and his impassioned outburst.

As Jones finally seemed to regain control, sending him back to work with a brisk order, Mullins couldn’t help thinking resignedly about how much the Captain had changed, in the past few months especially, but also in the years since his brother’s death. The man Captain Jones had once been - that promising but naive young lieutenant - seemed like a distant memory. Few of the current crew members had served under Jones’ proud and honorable older brother, Liam, who had been tragically struck down in his prime by treachery. Liam’s untimely death had altered the course of all their lives in ways none could have anticipated. Mullins found it painful to remember the wide-eyed, gangly lieutenant Killian had once been. That young man had spoken passionately of glory for the crown and the name of Jones, ready to follow his Captain anywhere. He had believed in righteousness and the power of individuals to shape their own destinies. That idealistic youth had hardened into a bitter and implacable man. The once-noble Killian Jones now sought only vengeance, becoming known and feared across the seas as the dreaded villain, Captain Hook. Mullins sighed and returned to his task; there was naught to be done for it.

Meanwhile, Killian Jones stood at the helm, staring out into the dark night. He sought fruitlessly for the rhythmic comfort of the waves against the hull of his beloved vessel, the solid planks beneath his feet, and the cool night air brushing over his face to ease his inner turmoil. These familiar elements had soothed him many times before, yet his agitation remained as he waited, forcing himself to take steady, regular breaths.

As he stood there, alone amongst his crew, Killian’s gaze drifted towards the gray, evening-darkening horizon. A shape materialized from the gathering twilight, drawing nearer - an unmistakable bird on the wing, yet not the familiar silhouette of gull or pelican often seen at sea. Morbidly curious, Killian watched as the creature approached, strangely silent compared to the trilling calls of most avian species he knew. Its relatively small body rose and fell on the air currents, rather than gliding with ease, weaving unsteadily in its course.

Despite having recently displayed harsh temper and callousness, Killian found himself holding his breath with each flap of wings that sent the bird painstakingly higher in the sky again, inexplicably concerned it might plummet into the rolling waves below.

As if drawn by his thoughts, the bird’s flight began to descend lower and lower. The men diligently working around him on the deck - and avoiding eye contact to steer clear of his ire a second time - seemed completely unaware of the creature’s plight. Killian finally released a tight breath as the dark-feathered bundle nearly landed at his feet. Though it seemed more a collapse than a graceful landing, it had found a resting place. He did not wish to closely examine why it mattered to him whether it had succeeded or not.

Glancing around surreptitiously, Killian stooped to gather the bird into his hand, his hooked arm wrapping around to steady and secure it against his chest. He hoped the dark attire he wore would partially conceal the fragile creature. Rescuing helpless animals contradicted the brash and dangerous pirate persona he had donned irrevocably, which had grown even more dark and forbidding of late. Yet, he simply could not leave the small, fragile bird on the planks, its strength almost spent and plaintively vulnerable.

Seeing that all was as it should be, he slipped below deck without a word, carrying the strange passenger in his arms into his cabin. Closing the door firmly behind him, Killian hurried to place the weakened creature on the table and lit a nearby lantern hanging from the ceiling to inspect its small form for injuries. It appeared fine, simply near the end of its endurance after a clearly long journey.

Just as when the bird was approaching the ship, he could not really understand why it mattered so much to him that the creature was alright. It did though, and so he obeyed his instincts and tried to tend to it as best he knew how. His new compatriot didn’t seem at all troubled by his admittedly anxious dithering and attempts at aid. The bird neither flapped nor made any attempt to flee. After a few full-body shakes to settle its plumage, the bird remained largely still, only moving with its breaths and blinking its dark brown eyes calmly at him, seemingly taking in its new surroundings. The creature exhibited an almost human awareness that it was safe, facing no threat from him.

As Killian watched, enthralled, the bird eventually seemed to settle enough that it tucked its head beneath its wing and appeared to fall asleep. Satisfied that his charge would be fine for a few hours, and needing to rest himself while his crew and ship were in order, Killian extinguished the lantern after preparing for bed. The churning anger and restlessness which had plagued him since boarding his ship was strangely lulled, and for the moment, he was too grateful to question it. Stretching out upon the Captain’s berth, he gave himself over to sleep, for once wrapped up enough in its comfort to be dreamless.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Killian rose with the sun the next morning, habit waking him early enough to see the gray pre-dawn melt into the peach and pinkish glow of a clear new day. He stretched his lanky frame, washed and dressed before moving to the table to check on his unexpected guest. As he neared the makeshift nest he had created, he was surprised to see his small stowaway still appeared to be asleep. Startled by how calm the bird continued to be in such confined surroundings, Killian merely smiled tightly, his hand unconsciously rubbing his chest. He tried not to dwell on why the peaceful sight of a bird resting on the table in one of his old rags lifted his spirits so, as if the whole cabin felt less lonely in its presence.

He had a litany of his usual tasks to attend to, and he knew the rest of his crew would soon be active - if they were not already. Killian exited the cabin swiftly, hoping nothing would disturb the creature until it was restored enough to wake on its own, once the heavy sound of his boots against the wooden planks faded away.

However, he couldn’t avoid one quick stop before heading topside. Killian was pleased to see Turley, the ship’s cook, alone in the kitchen. He ducked beneath the low door frame and cleared his throat to get the grizzled man’s attention amidst the numerous pots and pans bubbling and sizzling on the stovetop.

“Mornin’ Cap’n,” Turley offered, with a gap-toothed smile. “What can I get ye?”

Killian lowered his voice, stepping closer to the aging cook as he explained that the rations he sought were not for himself, but for the seabird he had rescued the evening before. As he pondered why the bird’s fate concerned him, Killian found himself unsure why he felt compelled to hide his anxiety for the small animal. Anyone daring to question or mock him would regret it – if not immediately, soon enough. Was he questioning himself then?

He discarded the thought almost as soon as it entered his mind. Turley seemed pleased with his captain’s request, assuring him they still had some canned herring in their stores which he could fetch after the noon meal. Killian nodded approvingly and thanked Turley before turning to leave. Just as he did, Turley added, “Sounds like you found a storm petrel, Cap’n.”

“Oh, aye?” Killian asked, tilting his head with renewed interest, despite his desire not to seem overeager.

“Indeed, for how you have described it anyways, Sir. They’re quite rare in these parts, or so’s I’ve always heard. They tend to nest much further north, preferrin’ the cold.”

Killian nodded his understanding but remained silent, encouraging Turley’s talkative nature with a patient gaze. He was rewarded when Turley continued without pause.

“There’re many folks who consider ‘em an evil omen, Cap’n. Portents of storms and such like, but they’re such wee buggers, them petrels. I always wondered meself if they weren’t just allowin’ the winds to blow them to safety rather than heraldin’ the blast.”

Killian shook his head with begrudging humor. Even after nearly three years leading a crew of pirates rather than the formal naval sailors they had once been, he was continually surprised by their superstitious beliefs. They claim to be black-hearted, fearless outlaws, yet frightfully unwilling to take a woman aboard (even Milah at the beginning), sail under the red morning sun, or set out on a Friday.. All due to tall tales of downfall and destruction. It was just a bird, wind-rattled and knocked off-course, needing to regain its strength; certainly not some ill stroke of luck.

“I heartily agree with you, mate,” Killian said when Turley’s words trailed off, giving him a clap on the shoulder before leaving the galley. “I appreciate you finding the herring. I’ll be back for it once lunch has been cleared.”

Turley assented readily and turned back to his task, humming idly. The Captain seemed in a better state of mind than he’d been in since losing his hand, and witnessing his love’s death. To Turley it seemed nothing but good luck, and he was simply glad for it.

~~ * ~~ * ~~

Feeding the petrel at noon was a more awkward and messier business than Killian had anticipated; first he was struggling to open the sealed tin with just one hand, then handling the pungent small fish and their juices in his attempts to coax the bird to eat. Once it snatched the first bit in its delicate, curved bill, however, no more coddling was necessary. Soon, the petrel was grasping tiny herring right from the can, swallowing chunks as fast as it could manage. It emitted a rough sort of squawk in his direction once it finished its meal. Chuckling, Killian could certainly admit it was no nightingale’s song, but he chose to see it as an enthusiastic thanks all the same.

“I’m afraid that’s all for now, you shameless beggar,” he chided gently while clearing the empty tin away and wiping the table clean. To his surprise, the bird stepped nearer, lightly pecking at his fingers, almost playfully or in gratitude, not at all sharply enough to hurt. Holding his breath, Killian turned his hand open and palm up; the petrel nuzzled against his warm skin. Improbable as it seemed, the gesture could almost be called affectionate.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” the pirate murmured, scratching one finger lightly over the bird’s dark gray cap. He chose to ignore how his voice sounded equally fond.

When he returned that evening, the shadows outside his cabin’s windows were already long, and the sun had long sunk in the west. After its performance at midday, Killian was sure the petrel would be hungry again and eagerly awaiting its dinner. Yet, upon entering his cabin with canned anchovies, hoping they would not prove too salty for his animal guest, he found the bird absent from the center table altogether. Instead, it flitted for one spot to another at the desk in the room’s far corner near the window. It fluttered, then paused to alight upon the various open books strewn over the surface, cooking its tiny head and peering down intently at the pages. Had Killian not known better, he would have thought it was actually reading the words in Liam’s beloved tomes.

By this point, Kilian was charmed by the petrel’s odd antics, his lips stretching into an ill-accustomed smile as he watched before he moved to lay out his offering. The dark cloud that had hung over him before the bird’s arrival had dissipated. Though he couldn’t explain why, Killian welcomed the lighter mood, hoping it signified better days to come.

The petrel let out its brash trill a few more times before fluttering over to feed quickly on the anchovy, as enthusiastically as it had eaten the herring. Upon finishing, however, it did not relax as it had done previously. Instead, it flitted across the room, hovering near the window and making its distinctive call. The bird then fluttered around Killian’s head and shoulders before returning to the window, its desire for freedom as clear as if it had spoken the words aloud.

“Of course, little one,” Killian sighed reluctantly, no longer embarrassed about speaking to it as if it were human. “Naturally you would wish to return to the air.”

As he opened the window pane, the bird uttered a softer note, unlike its previous raucous cries. Killian smiled ruefully as he watched it slip through the opening and fly away. He had never considered refusing to let it go free; still, he missed the petrel’s presence in his cabin almost immediately. It might have been only a lost bird, but for a flicker of time, he felt a connection, a kinship, that had been sorely lacking in his life.

Yet, to Killian’s pleased astonishment, it was far from the last he would see of the storm petrel. While he would have expected the bird to be gone, never to return again, as days and weeks at sea went by, the small bird reappeared often - usually at first light, near the wheel where Killian was often steering, taking the night’s last watch upon himself as captain to be certain all was well when the Jolly was perhaps most vulnerable. After his intriguing initial encounter with his new feathered friend, he had learned that petrels were largely nocturnal and - like pirates and sailors themselves - rarely came ashore unless nesting. Again, that strange sense of kindred closeness swept over him; more than he had known for entirely too long. He had also learned that pairs of storm petrels were largely monogamous, and he could not help but wonder if the small gray co-pilot had lost its mate, leading it to return to the ship and humans where it had been shown kindness, strange as the attachment might seem. At any rate, once “his” petrel had begun to make recurrent appearances, Killian deliberately took the shift which found him at the helm when dawn’s first light crept over the horizon.

Though wise enough not to voice any notice or question him, the more observant and early-rising members of Captain Jones’ crew began to notice the bird’s repeated arrivals at the wheel near their captain. It seemed the small creature came solely to visit Jones and to snag a brief ride perched on the ship’s side, the sea breeze rustling its feathers until it either fluttered below deck to follow Killian at the end of his watch or took to the sky again.. Killian naturally sought to avoid seeming overly fond or doting on the petrel. For the leader of a band of miscreants and outlaws who lived a rough life by their wits and the sweat of their brows, it was dangerous indeed to show any sort of weakness. Any appearance of “going soft” could be a death sentence if his crew began to doubt his capabilities because of it.

All the same, those who worked nearby sometimes saw glimpses of his twinkling eyes or more mischievous smiles from time to time - things that had seemed lost to the past before the bird’s arrival. The cabin boy Killian had taken aboard at a port several months before - to save him from a life of abuse and privation - sometimes thought he heard snatches of the Captain singing or humming shanties under his breath when the petrel was present at Killian’s side. The boy’s loyalty, however, was unassailable and absolute. He’d never dream of breathing a word.

This continued for some time, the petrel’s comings and goings becoming an expected part of the rhythm aboard the Jolly Roger. Its diminutive gray form and rapid flight over the nearby waves became an easily recognizable sight to all who sailed upon the ship. What was more, the bird’s presence was gratefully welcomed - Captain Jones was less volatile and less prone to strike out against those who displeased him.

If the petrel had not yet proven its worth to any sailors reluctant to accept it, then one stormy night it would have silenced any doubts once and for all…

They had not taken an enemy vessel in some time, and the cargo taken in their most recent haul had been offloaded at the last port nearly two days prior. It was a good thing, too, because as shadows began to lengthen in late afternoon, wind whipped up wildly, frothing the waves and rocking the ship violently. The extra weight of a full cargo might have caused them to take on a frightening amount of water as the hull rose and fell. 

At first, the men manned their posts with calm determination. A storm at sea was always serious, easily spelling the difference between life and death in how one met its ravages. They had faced many such squalls, and Jones guided them through with an indefinable but comforting mix of experience and assurance. This gale, however, seemed different, bent on their destruction as the walls of water rose and then dropped the Jolly as though it were a toy in a child’s bathtub. As they dipped, the rising swells threatened to pour over the sides and sink them permanently. The crew gripped their ropes or boards, holding tightly to whatever piece they manned, but more and more fervently sending prayers for mercy to Poseidon, Davy Jones, or the sirens that would greet them below the surface.

Amidst the rolling chaos, the rapid beating of wings swept low over their heads as a dark,  familiarly recognizable form sailed across the deck and landed heavily, talons clinging to the worn leather on Killian’s shoulder. Though it had clearly fought mightily against the drafts, their petrel was claiming its place heedless of the danger.

Hardly able to acknowledge the delicate weight where it roosted at his side, even nearer than usual, Killian quickly raised his hook from the spokes of the wheel, brushing its curve over the bird’s downy underbelly in a single stroke of greeting. The bird trilled and seemed almost to rub its head against his rough cheek in affection. The exchange lasted only a moment, and in their heightened anxiety, few, if any, bore witness. Then, Killian gripped the wheel tightly once more with hand and hook, roaring out orders and encouragement, exhorting the men not to give up the fight, though the storm raged on and endurance flagged.

The petrel, not content to merely watch and ride along, was hardly finished - nor did it perch silently idle. Instead, it took to the air again, if only just, fluttering rapidly about the captain’s head, repeating its sharp, strident call, almost in his ear, and making itself nigh impossible to ignore. At first, Killian instinctively waved his hand to ward off its advances, calling out in consternation at its unusual behavior. However, it quickly became clear the tiny bird’s determined efforts would not falter.

Brow furrowed in thought, Killian squinted in concentration at his companion, finally sensing that it was trying to tell him something. Swiping the driving rain from his vision, Killian gave in and murmured low under his breath, “Alright, little one, I understand. What is it you wish to show me?”

Again, reacting as if it understood his every word, the petrel chirruped a sort of agreement and took flight again. It had to dip and bob against the lashing wind and rain in order to stay aloft, but it flapped madly, its wings battling back against the heaves of the storm. Valiantly, it hovered within sight, just ahead of the ship’s bow and almost seemed to look back expectantly, as if asking whether or not he meant to follow its lead.

Despite the tension in his shoulders, the worry and responsibility weighing upon him as the storm attempting to break them apart and bear the pieces to the depths, Killian couldn’t hold back a huff of laughter at the bird’s assumed insistence. “Aye, we’re with you,” he uttered aloud, turning the wheel just slightly to accommodate the direction in which the petrel led, shaking his head in disbelief even as he did so. It seemed a mite crazy, true enough, and yet birds survived the wild, its brutal conditions and weather, all the time. And what other chance of survival did they have at this point if the tempest didn’t slake soon? He could not see the way before them clearly enough to navigate by any of his normal methods. At the end of the day, they were all at the whim of Mother Nature, whatever their skill or experience, so the chance or fate that had brought this small creature to him and the feeling in his gut that urged him on seemed as good a course to follow as any.

Some few further agonizing minutes followed, as they still rose and fell in the grip of rolling waves. The entire crew seemed to hold their breath as the ship bobbed and soared, up and down, over and again, eyes riveted on the dark clouds and forks of lightning ahead of them and straining to glimpse in time the jagged rocks that lurked portending their doom.

Slowly, and yet more and more certainly as they persisted, the wild rocking, the careening to and fro, lessened, as though the churning water itself had begun to loosen its massive grip. They were moving into miraculously calmer waters, Killian noted with a breath of relief. The storm still howled around them, but in a bright flash of lightning, he saw that the ship had entered the sheltered lea of a hidden cove. The tall rock faces rising on either side as the Jolly sailed into their cover lessened the buffeting of the waves and allowed the ship to maintain its ballance once again. He would not have seen the entrance with the elements obscuring vision as they’d been - not without the petrel. It had led them to safety.

As if on cue, the bird came to rest atop the wheel, perching on the curve of wood between the two spokes where his hand and hook were placed. Blinking placidly, it seemed to look at him with a bit of pride before cooing softly and burrowing hits head and beak under its wing to snatch a moment’s well-earned rest.

Nodding and allowing himself a look around to take stock, Killian saw the reassurance on his crew’s faces as all realized they had made it through. Killian called out a few orders to check various parts of the sip for any damages and make certain the ship would stay in place until the storm blew itself out. This petrel with its almost sentient ability to sense when it was needed, come to his aid, and raise his spirits, would always have a safe place to rest with them on the Jolly Roger.

~~*~~*~~

Until the day it didn’t return.

The storm petrel had taken to arriving regularly every two or three days, wherever they might be sailing or how much distance they had covered, but then one evening it failed to appear. It didn’t come that night, or the next. Soon a week had passed, and still it didn’t come back to the Jolly, worrying Killian more than he dared let on.

He could not simply drop anchor and wait, nor could he leave his post, his men, and his ship, to search for his tiny companion - far dearer than even a pet could ever be. He had no way to call the bird; it had always come to him of its own accord and in its own time… but it had never stayed away for so long.

His men noticed as well, whispering amongst themselves when the Captain began taking his evening meals alone at night rather than joining them in the galley, when the door to his cabin slammed with such heavy finality that all knew it was a barrier not to be crossed until the Captain emerged again. They shook their heads in dismay when orders were bellowed more harshly or conversations were more clipped and terse. Killian Jones was too diligent a man to shirk his duties or lead them astray, yet all felt his unease and knew its cause. Many of them were aware enough to know the petrel had saved them from the storm, just as Killian did, and had grown to enjoy its visits and watch for it in their own ways. Its absence had stretched on long enough that it seemed clear something must have happened to the poor bird - not that any would say such to the Captain.

Turley and the cabin boy were the only ones genuinely close enough to ask Killian about it, and the youngster only dared question hesitantly one night as he brought the Captain his dinner tray if he had seen his gray bird lately. The dulled acceptance in his expected denial bowed the boy’s head and forestalled any further inquiry.

But that night, as young Billy left, Killian heard a light rapping sound at the small window above his bunk. Even knowing better, his heart leapt with a small flicker of hope. It was the portal by which his petrel had entered and left his cabin so many times. Scuffling and scratching followed, so weak and soft as to have gone unheard if he hadn’t been sitting alone and quiet at his desk. Hustling to the window, Killian unlatched it and carefully opened the glass pane.

To his astonishment and joy, quickly followed by rapid alarm, the storm petrel toppled from its weary perch on the windowsill and landed on the ledge just inside the room. Its tiny frail quivered, its little feathered breast rising and falling rapidly. It wasn’t a large bird to begin with; Turley’s familiar voice echoed in Killian’s head at the thought, needlessly rambling about petrels being some of the widest ranging seabirds known to man, despite being naught bigger than swallows. ‘Hardy little critters, they are,’ Killian could still hear the cook yammering internally until he finally shook his head clear. What he needed to do now was ascertain what the bird needed and what he could do to help.

Having been small already, the petrel looked terribly frail on the dusty, cushioned ledge amidst heavy tomes, navigation tools, and the other detritus of several years. It was obvious the poor creature had not been eating and was wasting away half-starved as a result. Along with that, it was soaked, its feathers in bedraggled disarray and missing in places. The bird lay still for so long without uttering any sound or even trying to right itself of explore the space that Killian feared for a horrible moment that it must be near death.

Peering closer with careful, gentle movements, he saw that the petrel was injured as well as weakened. Not immediately apparent because of how ruffled in was in general, Killian noted that its wing was bent at an awkward angle along its side rather than folded up properly in repose.

The bird hardly lifted its head as Killian stroked one finger down its back, hoping to soothe and offer even the tiniest bit of comfort. Striding urgently across the room, he swung the cabin door open, calling urgently down the hall for Whale, the ship’s doctor, to come on the double; he was needed in the Captain’s quarters.

Whirling to re-enter the room, Killian’s eyes quickly passed over the space, noting the crust of his bread left from supper and the seeds which had been baked atop it still littering the plate. He brought it quickly to his patient, then poured some water for the pitched by his washstand into the empty saucer which had held soup, hoping he might coax the petrel to eat even a morsel and gain some nourishment.

Next, he grasped a plush cotton dressing gown, hanging untouched on the door of his closest, purposefully out of easy sight. It had been Milah’s favorite to wrap up in after the rare luxury of a bath, and the sight of it or the feel of its material beneath his fingers had wrung his heart until now, bringing the hot, raging need for vengeance back to the fore. He was suddenly glad he had not parted with it though. He didn’t dare jostle the injured bird overmuch for fear of hurting it further. But while he couldn’t rub it down to dry it fully, he could tuck the robe’s downy layers around it and warm its shivering frame.

“There now, little one,” he crooned gently. “Take a bit of food and catch your breath. You’re safe now…” his voice caught and he swallowed before adding, “We’ll put you back to rights, don’t fret.”

Killian didn’t actually know if a ship’s surgeon could set a bird’s wing as he would a human man’s broken arm, but he could hear Whale’s footsteps pounding down the hall toward his cabin, and knew he would find out soon. Before Whale - or anyone else - could arrive to see him, Killian bent to carefully lean over the bird’s small form, not sure what possessed him, but following the instinct before he could question it. As delicately as possible for someone who’d had no cause for gentility in longer than he could remember, for just one breath, one single heartbeat, he brought his lips to the bird’s tiny head. Maybe it was brought on by some long-buried memory of his own mother, lost to his mind’s eye other than a voice whose soothing singing sometimes echoed in his sleep, but the kiss seemed an offering to ease fever pain and fear with hope and good wishes.

It was the barest brush contact - a mere moment’s touch - but the air in the room abruptly changed. Something seemed to shrink and then expand; the atmosphere held its breath. Glittering rainbow hues flashed in front of his eyes, and Killian jerked backwards in alarm. The petrel’s shape went a bit hazy as Killian strained to understand what was happening right before his eyes, and then his small friend began to grow and change, forcing him to take a few more stunned steps backward and wonder if he had somehow hit his head and addled his brain. His accustomed companion was transforming even as he watched.

He heard a shout as Whale - and probably a few curious others too - came to a halt behind him. Exclamations of awe and surprise were heard but left unacknowledged over his shoulder. Killian blinked, trying be sure he could trust his vision and to reconcile what shouldn’t be possible, but sat before him.

Where the storm petrel had lay near death just seconds ago, stood a blushing, beautiful young woman. She was equally soaked to the skin, long blonde hair plastered to her head and shoulders. Her lithe, slender frame trembled where she stood clutching the dressing gown around her tightly. Still, there was something about her eyes as she stared back at him silently; something that he knew deep within despite never having seen her before.

She cocked her head curiously, as if she too was trying to understand where she was and what had happened. With that motion, Killian knew without a shadow of a doubt. This young woman had been his petrel; his long lost avian friend was this lovely woman. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he was absolutely certain. And he was drawn to her just as he had been to her former guise. She took a cautious step toward him, and he held out a hand to draw her near and hold her close. Whatever had brought them together, whatever magic was at work, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.

~~*~~*~~

By the time rays of morning sunlight came slanting down the walls inside Killian’s cabin, he and his soulmate - he knew that now - had talked the whole night through. She was no longer a storm petrel but a princess what had been cursed to take on avian form, and his act of True Love - aware of it or not - had set her free. The jealous witch who’d cast the spell had falsely believed the princess was luring her chosen partner away rather than accept that he had a roving eye. Petrels were a migratory species, keeping her far from all she knew and loved - and of course, unable to speak or gain help for her affliction. For hours they sat side-by-side on his bunk, hands clasped tightly as this woman - Emma, her name was Emma - told him what she’d experience ever since the curse took hold, shifting her very reality to something unfathomable. Tears pooled in her eyes, glistening on her lashes, both while recounting her own trials, and then again while listening to the betrayal and loss that had shaken Killian’s world to its foundations as well.

The connection between them from Emma’s first appearance on his ship drew them ever closer as they talked, and touched, and inevitably joined in another kiss. This time it was two souls meeting on equal footing, and they drank deeply of the perfection that shook them each to the core. Perhaps it was always meant to be this way; the two of them bound to meet long before they ever knew. Neither could explain the pull, but it also couldn’t be denied.

As they went topside the next morning and Killian began to introduce her to an eagerly enthusiastic crew, he didn’t even try to explain, but simply savored the moment, thrilled that all the heartache and pain had finally brought him there, with Emma at his side. Her smaller frame tucked seamlessly into his side as she beamed at his new ally and charmed them one and all.

When they stood at the wheel - just the two of them again at last - Killian behind her, his arms encircling her as he steered the ship, he felt the same joy he had when she’d kept him company perched on the wheel so many times before, but magnified exponentially now that they could fully communicate and understand one another. With the salt air in their faces and the horizon in view, they set sail - a happy new beginning stretching out ahead of them.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @scientificapricot @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @lenfaz @jonesfandomfanatic

@eastwesthomeisbest @grimmswan @stahlop @belovedcreation @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @caught-in-the-filter @resident-of-storybrooke

@the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @goforlaunchcee @mie779 @kday426 @iamstartraveller776

[lunarshifting]

Guys im gonna be so honest, every time I think of love I always wanna cry a little bit. WDYM somebody out there, in the universes, loves you for who you are? Loves you as easy as breathing? As soft as baby kitten? As warm as the morning sun? And why, do some people, when given such warmth, shy away? Shouldn't we all strive to be loved warmly, quietly, humanely? It doesn't even have to be romantic. You can love a friend and love them deeper than anyone else and still be platonic. Sometimes, the love you need comes from yourself.

What a wonderful gift. To exist from love, give love, and be love yourself. Why would I ever give up on that?

Who cares if I love wrecklessly. I can love the bully, but not their words or their actions towards me. That person, even if wrong to me, is good to others. I shouldn't hate people for being people, even if those people are naturally upset by me, because I am different. I am a strange monster, looking human, but acting otherwise, rarely getting my love back.

I can still love people for being people, even if they don't act like people when they are around me.

[crowholtz]

one of my Curse of Strahd characters, Silka. she's one of the wildfolk of Barovia. I wanted to see her in some traditional wildfolk clothes, which are heavily slavic inspired, specifically Ukranian inspirations!

the Wildfolk here have a lot of Shifters from werecreature ancestry. Silka's line comes from werelynx shifters!

the art is by amazing @liusia-piu. I wanted to get an actual Ukranian artist to do this so I could get some advice on the clothing, the embroidery, and the jewelry. I also learned some cool stuff bout cats in Ukraninan mythology! Thank you so much <33

[spotimy]

Sketched up all the amazing player characters in me and my co-dm's homebrew cos game. We call it Harvest of Flesh!

[azzayofchaos]

My, not biased in drawing these guys first designs for the Weapons Shifter AU generated by @evilrat-sabre . This started as an excuse to draw tango as big gun and then evolved lol.

Moon Big.

[queermentaldisaster]

Cursed Shifter!AU

Apparently my brain likes AUs where Roba survived and proceeds to use Ghost to hurt the military because here's another!

So this one is much like my other Shifter!Au, except in this one mythological creatures are a possibility, and shifters become shifters in like a...zombie/vampire-like way? There are born!shifters and turned!shifters. There's a bacteria in every shifters saliva that corrupts a normal human, bringing out their 'spirit animal/creature'. Now, this is a painful process. Even worse, the memory of the first shift, aka when they were turned, is permanently engraved in the mind. If this was a wanted turning, it's not such a bad memory. However, if it was forced upon someone, it's a painful thing to recall, and oftentimes, they lose their sanity.

Roba was a born!shifter, and used that to start the Zaragoza cartel. Of course, no one ever really realized that he was a shifter, so humans were sent to stop him. Not like there were shifters in the military anyway, they're incredibly rare and reclusive.

Well, one of Roba's favorite methods of brainwashing his 'tools' was to turn them. Sparks, Washington, Vernon, and Simon. They all went through this. Obviously, Vernon was killed. Sparks and Washington lost their sanity. Simon barely kept his.

Roba ended up managing to drag Simon Ghost back onto his side. He faked his death, Ghost got dragged onto 141, everything happened as usual. Except, the whole time, he passes information to Roba, who ends up being a major player in Hassan's bullshit.

But the closer Ghost starts getting to Soap, the more that Simon starts questioning if they should really keep going with Roba's plan. But by the time that Graves betrays the 141, it's too late, they're too deep in.

@forestshadow-wolf @bringinsexybackk69

(bonus points if y'all can guess what Ghost's creature is 👀👀👀

[deancaspinefest]

In The Dog Days

Author: Hectatess | Artist: ReverieOfForgotten

Posting on Saturday March 23 

One day deputy sheriff Castiel Novak is out on his usual run, when a guy comes up to join him. They hit it off, and before the day really starts, he has a new running buddy called Sam. Fast forward a few months, and Sam comes running into the office, all upset because his brother is missing! To top off this eventful day, Castiel finds a dog without a collar.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Bone tired, Castiel shrugged on his trusty trenchcoat and dragged himself home. Most days he loved walking home, especially after a refreshing shower had cleared the air like today, but now he was on edge, looking around for the smallest sign of something that might be Dean. That was why he noticed movement in the bushes a bit to the side of the road. He approached carefully, not sure what to expect. Whatever he had thought, a bedraggled, wet dog, wasn’t it. “Hello, you,” he cooed. The dog snapped his head up and Castiel gasped. The animal’s light eyes seemed to pierce his very soul. “Wow. You are a beauty, aren’t you?”

The dog laid its pointed ears flat and from the rustling behind it, Castiel deduced it wagged its tail twice. Careful to not spook the animal, Castiel traced the fluffy neck with his hands, looking for a collar, but not finding it. “You’re a stray. I’m too exhausted to take you to a vet. You don’t look rabid, or fleabitten, so I’ll take my chances. Amara might bust my chops tomorrow, but I can’t look into your adorable face and leave you out here. It’s supposed to rain more tonight. C’mon, you fluffball, I’ll give you some burger meat…”

At the word burger, the dog’s ears snapped up and its soulful expression cheered up. A doggy grin appeared and a pink tongue lolled out. Castiel bit his lip. He had no rope or anything to lead the dog home with. “How do I get you to follow me, buddy? I can’t even grip your collar.” The dog did a little head tilt, ears pricked. Then it trotted from the bushes and shook itself, ears flapping and spraying water everywhere. Castiel jumped back with a startled ‘Hey!’ The dog looked at him with that silly doggy grin, and Castiel chuckled. “Alright,” he said, wiping the droplets off his face. “I guess I’ll just hope you’re going to follow me.” He started walking and to his relief, the dog trotted along.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Saturday March 23)

[vulnonapix1234]

Ok, so, a few months ago, I talked about a „Cursed Tim Drake AU“, where my favorite little stalker gets cursed by one of the artifacts in his Home.

The curse turns him into a Wolf whenever he lets loose of his Emotions.

For him, it was less of a curse and more of a Gift, as it had made his Birdwatching Hobby a lot easier.

After his adoption into the Bat Clan, he mostly kept it to himself, because he knew that he had to keep his cards close to his chest if he wanted to survive.

The only ones who know are Alfred, Jason, and Cass.

Anyway, I wanted to add that the rest of the Batfam learned about it because of Ra. Not because he knew, but because Tim got so furious about him that he nearly ripped his throat out.

Why?

Because the immortal Fucker decided to fuck with his Brothers.

Bruce was Kind of upset because he thought that his kid was scared of his reaction. Tim didn't care about him and his reaction to his secret at that moment. Not when he had his secrets that he held over them. They did talk about it and Tim was kind of touched about it.

Still, he becomes a lot more open with it, since he sees no point in hiding it from them.

Especially Damian and Dick are thankful for it, for different reasons. (Damian has an easier time dealing with animals and Dick can suddenly read the emotions of his brother easier because of his Tail and Ears)

Stephanie just bullies him for it. She calls him a furry and sometimes buys him dogtoys. It's good natured.

Duke is super embarrassed. He has baby-talked and petted his brother repeatedly, even if he thought that he was just a lost stray.

Another thing that I want to Point out is that Tim was domesticated by a conspiracy of Ravens. It all started with Brucie, whom he found on one of his bird-watching adventures. The poor thing had lost one of its wings to Ivys Plants, so he took care of it. The rest of Brucie's Family just started to freeload off him.

(Tim still loves them and has taught them how to stalk ppl)

Bonus: badly drawn sketch of Tim and Damian

Some ppl wanted to get tagged, so here we go: @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @ohits3amfuck

[bardicblast]

[nombitenary]

Ask for a Christopher :3

What does it takes for him to spare the prey? (At least from digestion)

Like in which case he would spare them?

Good question!

The version of Christopher I use on my blog is one that has been warped by years of constant hunger. He’s been greeted with fear everywhere he goes, yet for the most part, he only preys on those who wholly deserve it— I say for the most part of course because of his appetite.

To spare his prey, they’d need to be one of two things. Either innocent— innocent and curious enough to react with something other than fears or in a dangerous situation with no way out. Despite his attitude, he has a soft side that mingles with his instinct to eat prey in a way that creates… creative rescue solutions for any involved.

I think his biggest problem with humanity is their greed. He makes deals with humans, offers them riches in exchange for a snack, and he waits until they’ve let their lust for power corrupt them before he pounces. He’s only had his deals turned down a handful of times, and those people?

Those are ones he keeps a more sympathetic eye on.

If you can manage to do both of those things, you might end up seeing his guts in quite the different light. He’s a protective pred at heart. The cruelty is a learned behaviour. Truthfully?

All he needs is a good friend.

[puppetmaster13u]

Slowly rotating DC as dragons, but right now I'm mostly rotating the bafamily as ones. Like the family line was cursed to turn into dragons similar to a few of the older werewolf myths, and Bruce finds out that the magic includes adoption as part of the family line. Eventually one could learn how to change at will, turn the curse into a blessing, but when they're younger it's practically a nightly thing. Heck, maybe there's like one week or day every year where they're stuck as a dragon no matter what.

Bruce has... used this to his advantage when he starts doing vigilante work. Hands are useful at times yes, but there's also times where being a giant wyvern is useful.

[echoing-locations]

ITS CRUSE OF STRAHD DAY!!!

Marin and his brother, he may not like his step father but he cares a lot for his half-brother.

My curse of Strahd campaign went on a bit of a hiatus but it’s back now and I’m very excited :D

[pinkykats-place]

Fantasy AU BakuDeku

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Art is not mine! Credit to @novaneondream

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Some contain mature content so please read tags on AO3.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Playing with Flowers by SilentJo

Summary: “What is all of this? Are you a grown man playing with flowers?” Barbarian Prince Katsuki had asked after the herbalist Deku bumped into him and scattered his plants and herbs to the ground. Deku's fiery response draws Katsuki's interest, enough to initiate the courtship ritual known well in his country, Kamino. But Deku has no idea why he keeps getting head-pats from Katsuki.

One Shot | SFW

How to Train Your Useless Dragon by Mikacrispy

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki needs to kill a dragon to take its teeth and become a warrior of his tribe.

But, what? Why the fuck doesn't this dragon have teeth?

— — —

Written from the promp "What if Izuku was the dragon?"

Shamelessly How to Train Your Dragon inspired.

Complete | 30 Chapters | SFW

Forever, right Kacchan? by Anonymous

Summary: Katsuki met Izuku when they were 3 years old, and he knew he wanted to keep the green haired boy by his side forever. They were each other's first friend, so it was only natural the blond wanted to keep that bond for the rest of his life. Katsuki and Izuku learn what "forever" really means to them as they grow up.

Complete | 19 Chapters

Rated - Mature

The Other Side of the Door by Dontmindme9

Summary: Izuku becomes Prince Shouto's personal servant. Because Izuku has to follow him around every day, they get really close. When Izuku gets lost while on an errand, Shouto does everything he can to find him again. Meanwhile, Izuku is saved by a wild Bakugou. Inside the angry teen, Izuku see's a side of Bakugou that no one has taken the time to see. Both take a liking to the innocent green haired boy, and refuse to give him up.

Complete | 52 Chapters | SFW

The dragon @silverynight

Summary: Now, this golden dragon with red eyes could actually kill him, besides, he's already pissed because he's hurt, someone stabbed one of his elbows and he's bleeding a little. The sword is still stuck in his skin.

"Hello..." Izuku takes a couple of steps closer, knowing Iida (one of prince Todoroki's knights) would probably tell him not to get himself into trouble. It's a good thing he's not there.

The dragon growls, as a warning, but he doesn't use his fire against Izuku so he takes it as a good sign.

Complete | 2 Chapters | SFW

Show me your thorns, love by princejaelofbabylon

Summary: “You'll regret this,” Katsuki warns weakly. “I don't know how to… I've never been in a relationship with anyone before." He bows his head. "I might hurt you, even without meaning to.”

Deku scoffs, pulling back slightly. "You underestimate me, sir." Scarred hands cup his face, and when Katsuki looks up, he sees a fierceness in those green eyes, burning bright with a determination that takes his breath away.

“Tell me, Kacchan—do I strike you as someone afraid to bleed?”

— — —

Or, a sweet little story about a retired grumpy warrior who doesn't think he's worthy of love, and the kind witch who proves him wrong.

Complete | 2 Chapters | Implied Smut

Chosen by Phayte

Summary: Barbarian Alpha Bakugou must pick his future Omega from the neighboring Kingdom-- Midoriya.

Complete | 93 Chapters

NSFW | OmegaVerse

The Chosen of the Dragonborn by s_the_queen

Summary: "Katsuki."

"That's right!"

"Blonde, angry, loud. Violent. That Katsuki."

"Uh...yep! That's the one!"

"Is courting me?"

"Mhm!"

"I'm pretty sure the last time he saw me he said that he was 'glad to be rid of my stupid fucking freckled face,'" Izuku intoned dryly.

---

Four years ago, Izuku spent twelve days healing Katsuki after discovering him in the woods. When they parted ways, he never thought he'd hear from Katsuki again.

When Mina, one of the warrior fae of Musutafu, shows up on his doorstep—he realizes how insanely wrong he was.

Complete | 2 Chapters | SFW

One Snowy Night by silentsongbird

Summary: On the night of Christmas Eve, chubby elf Izuku Midoriya is walking home during the beginning of a blizzard. On his journey to the warmth and safety of his cottage, he runs into an injured Krampus. Unable to resist helping the beast, Izuku invites him into his home to tend to his wounds. The two end up snowed in and the poor little elf ends up trapped with the beast who just wants to show his thanks.

One Shot | NSFW

if the stars align, then for us they were meant by RunawayDeviant

Summary: Katsuki and Eijirou crash land in a forest to the south of their homeland. Injured and stranded, they befriend a local nature spirit, who is much more than he first appears to be.

Complete | 6 Chapters | NSFW

Love Potion Recipe by MellowWrites

Summary: Katsuki hates dealing with customers, but this strange barbarian keeps coming around and, yeah, maybe he likes him.

One Shot | NSFW

You're gonna be the death of me (in a good way) by MiraChaDoodles

Summary: He looked down at himself and the fresh clothing Katsuki had changed him into before his freckled cheeks bloomed into a pretty pink. It was like the sun rising beneath the stars, and Katsuki found himself wishing he had time to count them. 

But then Izuku’s posture stiffened. “Where is my clothing?”

Shit.

--

Katsuki rescues an injured faery by the river and decides to keep him.

Complete | 4 Chapters | NSFW

The Littlest Things by Fantasticnic

Summary: Katsuki buys a farm where he can truly be alone but starts to notice signs of someone else around. Tiny signs.

One Shot | SFW

but the entrails are the best part! by supercrunch

Summary: The boy straightens up. He’s about half a head shorter than Katsuki, face soft and youthful and sweet. He turns to look at him properly. His dark hair shines in the dying light, basket of blooms looped over one arm and mouth quirked into a tiny half-smile. The sun hits his face and makes his eyes a bright greeny-gold, just like emeralds.

Katsuki likes emeralds.

“Pretty,” he says, reaching out and picking the stranger up around the middle. He’s surprisingly heavy, although Katsuki doesn’t mind. “I like you. Come see my nest.”

The boy hits him.

He’s stronger than he looks, turns out. Katsuki drops him and falls onto his back, pain blooming across his face. Birds sing. The sky’s a lovely shade of orange, clouds floating lazily by. The boy scarpers. He leaves his basket of flowers behind, footsteps thumping on the ground and fading away as he escapes.

The sun sets. Katsuki, lying flat on his back with a bloody nose, decides he’s just fallen in love.

One Shot | SFW

Series:Uncharted Territory by Esselle

Summary: It's Deku who decided Katsuki would be "Kacchan"; he wasn't born in the wilds, but Deku is his tribe, now. And because Deku named him, it's to him Katsuki is bound.

Katsuki has a right to him, needs to know him in every way, as intimately as possible.

Barbarian!Deku/Adventurer!Kacchan.

Two Part Series

All Was Golden In The Sky by CallMeCharles

Summary: Izuku was only ten years old when his best friend, the great Prince Katsuki, died mysteriously. With the king and queen gone, mourning the loss of their son, the kingdom falls prey to a gang of thugs. Twelve years later, everything is looking bleak when Izuku finds himself back in the castle he used to run around in as a child. A castle that is not as abandoned as he thought. 

Beauty and the Beast AU

Complete | 32 Chapters

The chase by silverynight

Summary: "OI, YOU PIECE OF–" the tall barbarian with blond hair stops once his eyes meet. He doesn't look like the friendly type.

Honestly, he doesn't want to get into any trouble today, besides, fighting could make him sweat and people will realize he's actually–

"Omega," the barbarian smirks. He smells like an alpha, a very strong alpha. "Listen, I don't usually do this, but I'll be kind to you this time, show me your neck and I'll forgive you."

Complete | 3 CH | OmegaVerse

Rated - Teen & Up

Tiny Nuisance by Mikacrispy

Summary: Elf Katsuki has been going crazy with desire over the small halfling Izuku. When his control finally snaps, the little one finds out the dangers of teasing someone twice his size.

One Shot | NSFW

Into the Dragon's Lair by bkdkwritingsdump

Summary: Prince Izuku Midoriya wishes that someone will come and save him from a political marriage to a woman he can't love, but he never expected it would be a dragon, much less that the dragon would be in love with him, and that he might... maybe... sort of... return those feelings.

Complete | 5 Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

burn, pine, perish by kindaopps

Summary: Three things dawned on Izuku, as he stared at the slick flower petals scattered over the black words of his book: he has fallen in love with his husband, his husband did not love him back, and he is going to die.

One Shot | Contains Mature Content

Mark Me (I Won’t Let You Out Of My Sight Again) by SashaDistan

Summary: When Barbarian King Katsuki Bakugo hears his childhood nickname called out from the group of travellers, traders, and adventurers his people have just raided in order to protect them from their own stupidity, he thinks he is dreaming.

And then he sees just how much the boy-next-door has grown up and changed, and all the thing he's felt for decades rise up inside him.

One thing is for sure, he cannot let Izuku slip through his fingers a second time.

One Shot | NSFW

Mine, If Only for One Night by red_sneakers

Summary: Katsuki'd give just about anything for one night on equal footing with his clumsy, ugly, good-for-nothing, idiotic, beloved nerd.

“I.. Izu.. “ he tried. His new voice was deep and rough, like a pirate who ate cigars for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “I.. zu.. ku.” Katsuki’s chest warmed. Izuku’s name felt right resonating inside his own ribcage, as if it belonged there and nowhere else. “Izuku.” He smiled. “M-mine.”

--

The one where jealous possessive pixie, Bakugou Katsuki, gives everything for one night as a human, to make Izuku his.

Complete | 3 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

To Fall in Love with a Dragon by Mikacrispy

Summary: Barbarian prince Bakugou Katsuki falls in love with a Dragon shifter.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

Ties and Ribbons by Mikacrispy

Summary: The Spring Festival is upon them and Bakugou Katsuki has to put up with a parade of extras courting the one that ought to be his omega, Midoriya Izuku. His pride gets the best of him and Katsuki ends up striking a bet with Kaminari — he'll get Izuku's courting ribbon and the promise to mate the omega, or else he'll lose his sword.

Too bad that the omega runs away the second he sets eye on Bakugou.

One Shot | OmegaVerse

Rated - Explicit

too close to the dawn by boywonder

Summary: The dragon clan has been at war with the fairies for generations, but the youngest members barely even know what fairies are. Through chance, Bakugou Katsuki, a warrior in training, finds and rescues a fairy, Midoriya Izuku. They become friends (sort of) through the years, with Izuku leaving little trinkets for Katsuki, but will the strife between their people keep them apart?

Complete | 4 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

The Wizard's omega by Saby_Rod

Summary: A lonely wizard lives in the depths of the forest, everyone has a very distorted idea of him, a cruel and selfish alpha, but a nearby town requires his blessing to improve their crops and climate, so when the wizard asks them for an omega in exchange they do not hesitate to give it to him.

What that omega did not imagine was that after years of suffering he would discover what it really was to be happy and loved.

Incomplete | 10/? Chapters

NSFW | OmegaVerse

Last Updated May 2024

Before the First Leaf Falls by dynamighttiddy (Honeygothic)

Summary: “People are not born equal. That’s the hard truth I learned at age four.

But that was my first and last setback.”

Izuku was four when his heart was broken for the very first time.

He remembers it clearly: the scent of summer in the air, his soaked clothes clinging to his skin, the sting of rejection. Prince Katsuki Bakugou, his best and only friend, stood before him, face contorted in anger.

“I don’t need your help!” he’d seethed. “Not from a useless Deku like you!”

He’d stormed off, leaving Izuku alone in the riverbank. Later, his mother held him and whispered that he wasn’t allowed to play with the prince anymore. “Omega serving boys aren’t meant for alpha princes like him,” she’d said in hushed tones. “Izuku, you know better.”

-----

When Izuku runs away from the Bakugou Kingdom at only fourteen, the omega is assumed dead. When he reappears as a self-made man ten years later, Katsuki hopes this is finally his chance to atone. But between Katsuki's impending betrothal and Izuku's plans for revenge, will the two ever see eye-to-eye?

Incomplete | 4/? Chapters

Last Updated October 2023

OmegaVerse | Royalty au

Rated - Explicit

oh, how quickly things change by SpicyJam

Summary: "… I was trying to find someone to /start/ a family with. But everyone's scared of me."

Katsuki snorts, breaking eye contact first. "You're a dragon."

"Mm…" Deku grabs his hand again, as if he's still deciding if he's allowed to touch. "… You're not scared of me, though."

Katsuki glances up. A feeling of heat pools in his belly at the smile that Deku is giving him.

"Guess not."

---

Katsuki is a dragon hunter, and Deku is the dragon that claims him.

One Shot | NSFW

[moronic-validity]

Hey, would anyone read a fantasy book about a doordasher working in Birmingham Alabama?