train AU wherein Mariel is a conductor and Axtapor is a regular passenger. she always trips over her feet when she goes to tear Axtapor's ticket and she keeps all the stubs in her sweater vest pocket over her heart. one day he sees her put it away and asks her if she wants to get dinner but she says she cant bc she has to take the train all the way to the final stop so he says he'll buy a ticket to there and she asks if he's sure bc it's far and then he says he'll wait because 'yer my heart's last stop'. anyway I think she faints and the train is VERY delayed
The waves bring to shore many tales. Of sailors lost. Of treasure found. Of lands swallowed by the sea. Of graceless winds raising great storms. By now I thought I'd heard them all.
But I've heard a new one of late.
One of a ship which cuts not just the sea, but the veil of time itself. Of a ship so nimble, so lucky, that she escapes any fate that might befall her! But I can't write about it. You have to come and hear it for yourself.
The name Rabbit's Foot is spelled across her stern. It's clever. I thought you might like that.
At her helm is the mysterious one known only as The Vanishing Pirate to strangers and Captain Frère to her crew. What do her friends call her I wonder... Do they know her name? Perhaps not. Maybe she's bad at introductions.
It doesn't matter.
She comes to port. I wait.
She comes to our stall. I take off my hat.
She buys exactly six barrels of fish. I tell her it will be thirty pieces.
Her quartermaster gives me the sum and she smiles at me. I like it...
Grandma, the story I've heard is incomplete! I can tell you with certainty, she is not a woman, but a sea nymph come to life! And I fear one day her call will bring me to the water's edge...
And I'll dive in.
A fun little AU based off the sketch at the top of this post, gifted to me by @illjustpretend wherein Mariel has been re-imagined as a pirate captain 🥹 I've decided in this AU, Axtapor works at his family's fish market stall in Port St. Croix. He has a longing for adventure on the high seas, so he goes around to taverns and inns to hear stories about the wondrous things that happen all the way out there.
Eventually he hears the story of Captain Frère and how mid-chase her ship and crew, vanished from the waves, only to be sighted by her assailants disappearing over the horizon moments later. He can't help but go to the docks to see her ship for himself after. And he's unimpressed. He's expecting something much grander for a ship that's supposed to have done the impossible but he gets a kick out of the name, Rabbit's Foot.
The next day she visits his stall for the first time and in spite of his disillusionment with her ship, he's absolutely dumbstruck by her. He writes to his grandma after a few of her visits, because the urge to join her crew and follow her into the sea grows stronger and stronger each time he sees her. She warns him that it might be a dangerous ploy, but he goes after her anyway, and thus begins the story!
Maybe one day I'll write it because I love the idea of star-eyed landlubber Axtapor and the littol lady pirate Mariel 🥺
A little AASOAF AU piece inspired by this post that I just couldn't let go. Tagging @outpost51 bc I remember you being excited about this idea! Also please accept this as my sole contribution to this years OC Kiss Week because my body is in open rebellion against me 💙 Anyway, enjoy or don't! Do whatever you want!
WC: 1009
CW: drug use, sexual content
Characters: Fay, Wilkes
a/n: The title is the Spanish word, iluso, which roughly translates to 'dreamer/idealist' in English, to mean someone who daydreams/is easily led/prone to fantasies.
Nights on the marina always tasted of salt. Sometimes fish. On occasion, smoke, and rarer still, like rum and weed. Those were never sweet—
Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.
—usually biting—
Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.
—even angry.
Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.
Running parallel to the shore was a walkway and down it came the figure whose sound had interrupted Wilkes’ musings. She pushed herself along, leaning one way, then the other on her longboard to weave between obstacles. Her hair flowed like bundles of seaweed behind her and her baggy t-shirt flapped about her to outline her lithe frame. She, Fay, looked the epitome of a black flag raised to signal nefarious intention.
“Did you bring the good shit this time?” He called out when she was just feet away.
“Course I did.” She replied as she came to a stop and popped her board into her hand. “Always do.”
“Nah. Whatever you had last time fucked me up.”
“That’s cuz you’re a lightweight. C’mon.”
He chuckled as she tucked the board under her arm and led the way down the narrow docks toward his yacht. She launched into some whirlwind explanation of the ‘good stuff’ to occupy that short stretch of time. What strain she’d brought, where she’d sourced it from, how she was the first to try it, and how the grower dedicated it to her. He supposed that was interesting, but not as interesting as the sway of her hips or the bareness of her legs in those tiny shorts…
They boarded, and she wasted no time making herself comfortable. She abandoned her longboard some place, kicked off her shoes, and found a spot on the bow. He was glad of her ease. It made him, this shitty little boat, and his little money laundering scheme feel grander. Real, even. He joined her as she fished a neatly rolled joint from her pocket and pinched it between her lips with a frown. Much as he enjoyed that look, and watching her struggle to find a lighter, he was eager for other things tonight.
He flipped open his brass lighter and ignited its small flame. She gave him a look as he shielded the little light and beckoned her forward. Instead, she caught the joint in her finger and thumb, pulled it from her mouth, and neared its end to the fire. He chuckled. Never easy with her. Eyes locked to his, she rotated it in the flame for a short while and once satisfied, brought it to her lips and took the first hit.
He snapped the lighter closed as she let out that difficult sigh, followed by a small hazy plume, then passed the joint to him. He took it, tasting her on its end, then inhaled and sighed. A breeze washed over them. She shut her eyes. He watched her. And like this, several quiet minutes passed as the joint changed from his hand and lips to hers. Their bodies slowly melted from their seated position, eventually easing them both onto their backs.
All becalmed, she turned to him and smiled. “What do you have for me, quartermaster?”
He chuckled. “Well, you see, captain, I heard of a mercenary ship sailing these waters which just exchanged her cargo for payment. It’s ripe for the taking.”
“Colors?” she whispered.
His breath hitched. That rasp, those features…her eyes especially. Golden and so, so deep. He fell. Through time, through space, through planes of existence, and beyond.
“Green and gold of the Pale Kingdom…”
They took up the tale between their animated hands, weaving it with careful fingers against that night robed sky. Stars twinkled in and out of view as they imagined great billowing sails, the strain of lines, and the shouts of men. Surrounding them, the baritone concert of broadsides and kraken roars, and echoing a response, splintering wood and the demise of their enemies.
It was on this stage that they beheld their true forms.
A captain ravaged by dark magic, and her faithful quartermaster once lauded as a hero of old…
Their story was as sordid as it was beautiful. It told of great struggle, of pain, of fear, of loss, and on occasion, joy. Destined were they to reach for more and cursed were they to obtain it, for it would never be enough. To drop a hand to the bottom of the sea or to stretch into the furthest corners of the sky and feel nothing. Such was their burden, such was their sorrow. So they lay there, story told, and settled to reach for that which lay closer than anything else—each other. Hands intertwined, his ring glinted in the moonlight, outlining the words pressed into it. A lazy chuckle escaped her.
“‘Stuck Up’…I like that.”
He turned his head and pressed a kiss onto her temple. “I like you.”
“Why? Because I give you free weed?” She asked with a sleepy smile.
“No…because I like you.”
She frowned. “Stop saying things like that. You’re gonna confuse me…”
“What’s confusing about it?” He asked, pulling his hand from hers to trace a claw along her jaw, coaxing her ever closer.
“Nothing…I guess.”
“Then tell me you like me too.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t.” She uttered as she bunched his shirt into her fists and softly touched her lips to his. “I hate you, you stupid pirate…”
One kiss, then another, and another, each one taking a piece of clothing with it and replacing its cover with their greedy palms and the nipping night air. Flesh and scales curved and dipped until her hips pressed down onto his, trapping the heat of their frustration in the space she’d vacated for him. There it smoldered, stoked by his furious eyes and her parted lips, devouring them both into its selfish jaws and claiming their bodies for its own. Spellbound, they concocted a wicked possessiveness borne from the illusion of free will.
new AASOAF AU: cannibal ballerina Fay who sacrifices her admirers when they visit her after her shows but she just cant seem to do it to Wilkes when he turns up one day. Methinks he's a wealthy racetrack owner in this one just bc there HAS TO BE a scene where Fay attends the racetrack with him and the sound of the car engines going BRRRR during the race reminds her of the bonesaw she uses on her victims and it just ✨does it✨ for her
smoke shop owner Fay and money laundering mattress store owner Wilkes AU wherein they get high on the kindest buds and fall in love playing pirates on Wilkes' private yacht.
also Fay has a longboard
and Wilkes wears a ring that says 'Stuck Up' on it
Jazz Club AU where Fay is the club owner, Wilkes is the guy with a private and permanently reserved table, Mariel is the recently hired waitress who gives Fay intel, and Axtapor is the bouncer who escorts Mariel to her car every night
