You’ve heard the tales of the pirate Captain Dabi, the man known to plunder and pillage simply when it struck his fancy to do it; the man known to set ablaze the surrendering crews and the remains of their ships which he beat into submission through sheer brutality alone, the blue flames bright enough that even during the day they’d be visible from many, many paces away. Captain Dabi was a man known to be particularly aware--and even fond of--fire and what it can do to a sailor’s fortune. It was rumoured that when his temper was particularly testy, he would use fire cannons of a sort on any who dare cross his path, though such an idea was outlandish to you. How was that possible? Well, it wasn’t. You were sure of that. It was a myth, a ghost story, nothing more.
You expected him to be a brusque, violent, and crude powerhouse of a man.
But your meeting with him proved you entirely wrong.
As far as pirates go, he wasn’t at all as rowdy as you anticipated. Nay, he was calm and reserved, a keen eye watching all around him, especially his crew. He wanted to let them have their fun but couldn’t afford to let them have too much fun and stir mud, which would possibly alert the law. He trusted a few of them to not overdo it (though that was as far as his trust went), but others, well, not so much.
Dabi was better kempt than you anticipated, his charcoal-coloured peacoat, not-quite-so-white chemise, and tan trousers had seen worse days, and while his leather boots looked heavy and muddy, they fit him well. His tri-pointed hat lay on the table where he left it, a symbol of his profession and reputation, with previous tears having been fixed by stitches which more so resembled staples. The charcoal dust around his eyes only illuminated the fascinating colour of his eyes.
You watch him closely from a couple tables away, pouring a patron of the establishment for which you worked a flagon of rum. Dabi, naturally, had chosen rum but told you not to come for a refill unless he asked, his fingers thrumming the notes of a shanty (you assumed) on the side of his flagon. His mannerisms were smooth, slow, and mesmerising, they truly were. Dabi was like the eye of a typhoon; the calm, peaceful quiet surrounded by the funloving chaos of the tavern.
As you raise your pitcher upright from your patron’s drink, Dabi’s eyes flicker to meet yours, his head still somewhat turned to the side as he glances out his peripheral.
You blink, mostly unfazed by the tense and terse look to him, and give him a nod in greeting. Dabi glances at his flagon before leaning back in his seat, knees spread comfortably with his hands propped on the upper side of his thighs. With no change in facial expression he waves you over lazily.
You skip over to him, ignoring the wolf whistle of one particularly sloshed patron, whose way Dabi’s eyes glance before they land back on you when you stop at his table.
“Yes, my dear?” you say sweetly, and not in a flirty way by any means. Your voice is warm and welcoming, friendly even. You’ve learned by now that some pirates are easier to deal with the sweeter you are, the more you can douse away at their temper with sweet tones and loving words.
Dabi picks up his flagon for you. “I’ll take some more.”
“Of course.” You begin to pour more rum into his quarter-full cup, his eyes fixated on you.
“You got a name, love?”
Your heart stops a little and whether you’re flustered because you’re flattered that he’s surely about to flirt with you, or because a deadly and vicious pirate is asking for your name, you’re not sure. His intentions are pretty clear by the look in his eyes when you turn to look at them.
“I do,” you say, pulling your pitcher away. You smile sweetly at him, the gesture actually genuine for the first time in a while. You had to admit, the man had beautiful eyes, perfectly fit for the sea, their colour putting that very sea to shame.
You begin to walk away but his quick hand on your wrist stops you in your tracks. Dabi’s smirk is barely there, a rather amused smirk. “Care to share it?” he asks. “I am but a simple pirate lookin’ for company.”
“So humble you are,” you tease. “You’re a captain, I know it. And perhaps I care.“
He chuckles at you, and it’s a rather soothing sound. “Then allow me to be a simple, humble captain.” He places a gentle hand to his chest in a gentleman-like way. “Seems I’m a tad sweet on you, love.” As he says “you” he points at you lazily.
You quirk a curious brow at him, and his fingers begin to massage your wrist a little.
“Wanna get to know a fine lass like you workin’ in a-” he stops to gesture around the room with his other hand “-pig’s pen like this.”
“Of all the thing’s I’ve heard o’ ya, Dabi, I’ve not heard near a whisper that you’re a romantic or gentle man.” You give him a look that’s entirely skeptic if a little amused.
“Aye, course not. Men don’t fear romantics,” he says as if it were obvious. “Lest they’ve got tits and wear a bonnet.”
You roll your eyes with a giggle. “Ah, I see, then. So men fear women.”
A member of Dabi’s crew (apparently?) comes up to him and gives his shoulder a drunken, weak slap. “Aye! Cap’n may be a scary hardass but deep down,” he hiccups, his pointed finger jabbing Dabi in the shoulder as the other hand rests his glass bottle on the captian’s other shoulder, “he’s a real sock-... ah, soak? Soak-a-teez?”
A deadpan from Dabi meets the drunken grin of the crewmate, and you can see the storm stirring in Dabi’s eyes. “Get yer ass back to the ship before I sic Flint on ya again.” His voice is stern and low, vexed at the overly drunken state of his man. “Don’t forget we’re ‘ere on business, you.”
“Oh!” the man exclaims. “No, no, no, no need to do that, sir! Aye, cap’n, I’ll be on me way.” With fear to his stumbling step he makes way out of the tavern, before Dabi turns back to you.
“Apologies for the indecency, miss. He’s a perpetually parched throat, that one.”
“It’s rather amusing,” you say. “Tell you what. Wait for me out back and I’ll give you my name after work, since you’ve been such a gentleman.”
He grins wolfishly at you, grabbing his trademark hat from the table and setting it upon his head. “Better stick to it,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“It may be all night, you know.”
“I’m a patient man, despite what most say,” he refutes, standing from his seat. “I just know not to be patient at sea.”
You giggle at him and carry on, a smile stuck to your face the rest of your time working.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.
oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?
"You're Just Being Dramatic" The Life, Times and Eyerolls of a Panda
fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?
What the actual fuck is going on in this world?! Seriously...
pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.
Well...there's this girl. She has stunningly blue eyes and the curliest hair and a terribly infectious laugh. She's smart and funny and talented and fucking gorgeous and wonderful aaaaannddddd she lives an ocean away from me. 😟 Maybe next year I can describe her in more detail.
I love your kindertransport AU so, so much. seeing new art for it pop up in the cherik tag always brings me so much joy. thank you for continuing to create for this AU. I love all your art!!!!
OMG thank you so much!!!😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I am a big fan of your work as well!!!
hardglossyarmor replied to your post: The episode was not bad you’re all just...
I think it’s more the fear that Queliot is being erased, but I’m not convinced.
Erased? That’s literally impossible... Queliot are canon. There’s no way to erase queliot now. Narratively they can’t do it because they’ve gone too far.
It is canon that Eliot is in love with Quentin.
It is canon that Quentin is in love with Eliot.
In this episode we had Quentin rejecting sex with Alice? And doing everything he possibly could to try and get that spell to HELP ELIOT. He went to the past for ELIOT.
This was just Quentin and Alice realizing that yeah their relationship was a shithole in the end but it started from a good place. Which is something they both need to move past it and actually regain their friendship
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
