#Cabin Crew Details

[nikhilamecet]

The cabin crew, often called flight attendants, are the friendly faces you see on airplanes. Their main job is to take care of passengers while they're on a flight. They help passengers find their seats, serve food and drinks, and make sure everyone is safe and comfortable. They're like the hosts and hostesses of the airplane.

Cabin crew members are really important in aviation. They're not just there to serve snacks and drinks. Their main job is to keep everyone safe. They are trained to handle emergencies like turbulence, medical issues, or even evacuating the plane if something goes wrong. So, they play a crucial role in making sure flights are safe and enjoyable for passengers.

Working as cabin crew can offer a great career path. It's not just a job; it's an adventure. You get to travel to different places, meet people from all around the world, and learn new things every day. Plus, there are opportunities for growth in the airline industry. You can become a senior cabin crew member, supervisor, or even move into other areas like training or management. So, it's a job with lots of exciting possibilities.

[uniquejobs]

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[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙

With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.

The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.

Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.

You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.

Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”

She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”

A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”

She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”

You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.

“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”

She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”

“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”

You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.

It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.

You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”

“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 

You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 

The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 

The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.

The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 

Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 

You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.

Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”

Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”

You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”

Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.

“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”

Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 

There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 

Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.

[nina-ya]

Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market. 

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in. 

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh. 

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him. 

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern. 

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often.  As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

[soft-mafia]

14 Days [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: fem reader, smut, cream pie, pussy slapping, not proof read oops, blue balling

a/n: I genuinely need more motivation bc work is kicking my assssssss😭I found that writing in kind of a half fic half headcanon style is much easier when I’m having a hard time writing out really detailed fics, so I might try this until I get some fuel back. I imagined this to be OPLA Buggy but I’m pretty sure this can work for anime/manga Bug too!

• Buggy had some berries to spare, so he blew it all on his own little private island. It wasn’t anything special, a small desolate island with a single cabin right in the middle of the forest. He figured he could surprise you with it, chill there for a couple of days with all the privacy you two could ask for.

• After arriving on the island, bringing a bag of some belongings with you, Buggy left Cabaji and Mohji in charge of the crew for the time being(which still managed to cause a fight between the two). He’d promise to send them a carrier bat when he was ready to be picked up.

• Buggy told himself only two days.. how that turned into two weeks was beyond his knowledge.

Y/n was sitting in front of the campfire that she and Buggy had built, she was wrapped up in his coat, staring into the flames until Buggy’s footsteps crunched up behind her. He kneeled down, then sat with her in between his legs, strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Y/n smiled and leaned into his embrace, leaning back and resting her head against his bicep.

“This is kind of nice actually.” Y/n said softly. Buggy looked down at her, a soft smile on his face, “See? I told you!” He chuckled, holding her closer and resting his chin on her shoulder, cheek pressed into the crook of her neck, “I told you I’d make some time for you.”

His long blue hair was down from its usual pony tails, letting it drape down his shoulders and back. Buggy tilted his head so he could place a kiss on Y/n’s nape, his stubble scratched against her skin lightly and gave her subtle goosebumps. “Mm.” She let out a soft moan at that action, earning a grin out of him, and more kisses trailing up her neck. He then brought a hand up to brush her hair back so he could kiss behind her ear.

He tilted her face towards him, then leaned in so that their lips could connect, he held the side of her face. Y/n tilted her head so his nose couldn’t get in the way and ruin the moment for him, their lips molded against each other, both of them letting out quiet noises with each smack of the lips.

Buggy let out a quiet, breathy groan as he turned, still keeping their lips centimeters apart as he slowly got on top of Y/n, laying her down onto the blanket they were sitting on, his jacket that was draped around her shoulders was now sprawled out around her, giving her a soft cushion for her to lay on. Once she was on her back he continued to kiss her, his hands moving up and down her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one of her hands holding the back of his head so she could get a grip of his hair and run her fingers through his scalp.

Buggy then worked on taking his belt off and pulling his pants below his hips, as well as taking off Y/n’s shorts. They breathed against each other into the kiss, their breaths hot. Buggy began to hump Y/n through his boxers to get some friction going, holding onto her hips firmly. He let out breathy grunts rhythmic to his thrusts, one arm came up to rest beside of Y/n’s head to balance himself, hand on top of her head to gently pet her.

Y/n moaned, tilting her head back as she felt Buggy’s hard bulge humping through her panties. Buggy looked into her eyes, letting out a quiet, growly chuckle under his breath, “That’s it, baby..” he whispered, his voice gravelly and low.

Buggy sat up for a moment and yanked his boxers down to free his cock, it bobbed out freely, he then took two fingers to move Y/n’s panties to the side so he could slide his cock in. They both let out deep moans and groans. Buggy held Y/n’s waist as she arched her back snd whimpered, feeling him deep into her belly, “Mmmm.. f-fuck..” she breathed out. Buggy licked the corner of his mouth, thrusting forward and letting out a deep grunt when he pushed in deep, “There we go.” He chuckled before leaning back down to his previous position, still keeping a hold on Y/n’s waist to steady her. He buried his face into the crook of her neck again, his nose pressing up behind her ear as he licked and sucked on her neck, stubble scratching against her skin but it added to the sensation.

Buggy’s fluff of pubic hair tickled Y/n’s clit, making her tremble and mewl, “Aaahhh.. hhahh~” she whimpered breathily, Buggy growled and let out guttural moans as he thrusted, plowing into her. Y/n held onto his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his hips. Buggy grit his teeth, letting out grunts and strained breaths as he thrusted his hips faster and rougher, chasing that orgasmic feeling, “Fuck, baby..” he grumbled into her neck, making her shiver and moan out.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and let out a growl, hips stammering a bit, but he gained his rhythm with a shaky grunt, “I’m so fucking close.” He growled, bringing his other hand up now so he could hold Y/n’s head, pressing theirs lips together once more in another heated makeout session as they both came to their orgasms.

Y/n was squirming, trembling around Buggy, whimpering throughout the kiss. Buggy laughed, tilting his head back before grunting roughly and thrusting deep, then pulling out quickly to spill his seed onto her stomach, painting her little belly with fat ropes of his thick cum. They were both panting heavily, Buggy held the base of his cock and gently rubbed his tip over Y/n’s clit, spreading her juices around. Y/n looked down at Buggy’s cum on her stomach, then looked up at him through her lashes.

Buggy’s hair draped down either side of his face like curtains, to which he flipped to the side before giving her another wet kiss on the lips.

• Afterwards, Buggy carried you back to the cabin to clean up, wrapping you up in his jacket like a little cocoon.

• He gave you a warm bath, hand feeding you cherries and other small fruits, finding the way the fruit rested on your bottom lip as you bit into it, paired with the way you leaned over the rim of the tub, so innocent yet arousing none the less.

He sat on the lid of the toilet right beside the tub, he goofed around a bit with her, splashing her face with some of the water while she nagged him about bathing himself.

“Bath water isn’t gonna fucking kill you.” She teased, “You’ve literally been walking around this place shirtless in the same fucking pants ever since we got here.”

“It’s only our first day here, babe. And I changed my pants twice actually.” He stated, as if that made anything better.

“You’re sweaty.” Y/n rested her arms on the side of the tub. “So?” Buggy scoffed, his elbows on his knees.

“Get your ass in this god damn tub.”

• The majority of the time spent on this island consisted of fucking, and goofing around, but mostly fucking. This had actually been the most times you two have had sex, and you two have sex a lot.

• Buggy literally lost track of reality inside of your pussy, 2 days became 4 days, and then that became a week.

• His crew began to get worried, their captain had promised to send them a heads up to come and get them after two days.. but what gives?! Was there some strange creature lurking on the island that killed Captain Buggy and his girlfriend?

Buggy sat on his knees on the bed, grunting softly as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his bare torso, fluffy chest hair that connected perfectly to his happy tail, all the way down to his belt line, it didn’t take long for him to wrangle his pants and belt off and toss them away.

Y/n was rubbing her finger over her clit, being a bit impatient while Buggy undressed— until he quickly snatched her hand away and gave her pussy a few good slaps, “Hey. I didn’t say you could touch.” He mumbled, sending an aroused chill through Y/n’s body, right down to her pussy which made her thighs press together instinctively.

She let out a giggle as Buggy forced her legs open again. He laughed under his breath after smacking his lips together, “Little tease aren’t ya?” He mumbled before motioning her to sit up and come to him with his hands, she quickly sat up and crawled over to him, the bed squeaking slightly underneath her. Buggy grabbed her chin and tilted her head so he could kiss her, licking over her bottom lip before taking it into his mouth, sucking on it until it was swollen before kissing her again.

Buggy hadn’t shaved in a while, so kisses were more rough, but Y/n adjusted pretty quickly, it added to the sensation when he ate her pussy.

Buggy leaned against the headboard and spread his legs out, letting Y/n come closer to straddle his lap. He slung his arms around her shoulders as they kissed again, he held the back of her head as she began to grind her pussy against his shaft, making him groan deeply. She whimpered into the kiss.

This was probably the 3rd time they’ve had sex today, the room smelled like cum and sweat, Y/n still had loads leaking from her pussy from previous rounds, pussy sore and still clenching, her mind completely fucked out.

Buggy just couldn’t get enough; he was having the time of his life right now. He was about to guide her hips onto his cock until—

“Captain?! Captain?!” The sound of the door breaking down, followed by Cabaji’s concerned voice along with the murmurs and voices from other crew members.

Buggy grunted and quickly stood up, “Wha- shit. Why the fuck are they here?!”

Y/n squeaked lightly as she was accidentally pushed back by Buggy standing up so suddenly, rushing to put on his boxers, “Probably because we’ve been here for two weeks, maybe!” She huffed, watching Buggy stumble to pull his underpants up.

The door to the bedroom was kicked down, “Captai—..!” Mohji shouted, about 4 crew mates were crammed into the door way. Buggy nearly fell over, trying to cover up his still exposed dick, “GET OUT!! GET OUT!!” He looked a wreck, his long blue hair tangled and messy, covered in sweat.

Y/n had covered up her body with a blanket, eyes wide and embarrassed.

“GET BACK TO THE DAMN SHIP WE’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!! DAMMIT!!” He detached one of his arms to shove everybody out of the doorway and slam the door in their faces, the sound of muttered grunts and curses from Buggy could be heard by the pirates from inside the room.

Buggy was blue balled, and grumpy as he made his way back to the Big Top with you. He didn’t want his crew to saw a damn thing, silencing all of them once he set foot back on the deck.

• Over time, trips to the island became more frequent once you two got a schedule going.

• Whenever you two had some free time to spare, you’d go on little vacations to this island for 3 weeks before the crew came to pick you guys up.

• Buggy got to do 3 of his favorite things during your little vacations; eat, drink, and fuck the shit out of you.

[filmnoirsbian]

Pausing my hiatus to correct some misinformation that tbh I blame on someone who blasted it on social media without clarifying an important detail: the (USAmerican) federal regulation that states (USAmerican) aircrafts must accommodate a passenger's personal manual wheelchair by stowing it in a special compartment in the cabin only applies to larger aircrafts (100 seats and above). If you are flying on a regional jet (less than 100 seats) they are not obligated to stow your wheelchair in the cabin and in fact probably do not have a place to even do so (they are required to stow it in a special baggage compartment under the cabin). "Well they need to move their crew bags out of the wardrobe so my wheelchair can go there" does not apply on a regional jet, whose overhead bins often don't fit crew bags. Those crew bags ARE meant to go in that wardrobe. It is not a wheelchair wardrobe. I just saw a passenger tell a regional crew that their bags are not meant to be in the wardrobe, all because she was unaware of the actual federal regulation. If you are traveling with a personal manual wheelchair (battery powered wheelchairs are not obligated to be stowed in the cabin regardless of aircraft, so be aware of that as well) PLEASE look up which type of plane you will be on (this information can be found on the airline's website when you look up your flight info). Many large airlines contract out regional flights to regional airlines that fly under their name. Just because you are flying on Delta doesn't mean you will be on a large aircraft able to accommodate a wheelchair. It will save you so much headache in the long run.

[k0libra]

Welcome Captain Anderson and First Officer Connor!

About a week and a half ago I came up with dbh civil aviation au, as I absolutely love jetliners. So I decided to combine both of my interests! :D

More details about the setting are under the cut!

In the 2020s, a new aerospace corporation emerged - “Cyberair”. Originally starting from light jet construction, but later in the 30s they introduced narrow-body aircraft to the production line, as the result of rapid growth and market expansion. However, throughout the years their idea remained the same: “Reliable and comprehensive automation”. Cyberair jets are everything, beyond what a modern aircraft can offer, and is capable of. Truly a creation of the 21st century.

The latest Cyberair venture – state of the art autopilot. Identical to humans in its appearance, yet so different in behaviour. It’s efficient, reliable and doesn’t make mistakes (almost. At least human ones). But to tell the truth, this development is expected – ever since the late 20s Cyberair started to slowly announce machine cabin crew, even gifting a unique RK200 air traffic controller model to the Detroit Metropolitan Airport.

Delta Air Lines received their own one-of-a-kind autopilot, a RK800 (FAA approved!) model. How? Well, something about the Cyberair CEO liking their service. After a few papers signed and a few hands shaken, Connor embarks on his first real flight as a First Officer.

No plane flies without a captain though, so Connor has company. And a superior. Even if machines are better than people in piloting the plane in almost every way, human ego and fear, maybe, can’t let them be in absolute control. “Uncanny valley” or something.

Captain Anderson is a highly experienced senior pilot at Delta. Most of his career he has been flying Airbus aircraft, piloting A350-900 in the later years. Although because of Connor working with him now he has to pilot Cyberair regional or light jets from time to time. Oh, those signed papers be damned… He misses his dear A350.

Their relationship had a rough start, with the captain calling Connor “an attempt of capitalism at stealing my job”. But Hank couldn’t help but warm up to the FO the more flight hours passed. There was something so… alive about him? No, in aviation you only trust your instrument panel, and here all of the facts loudly state that Connor is simply a RK800. This is definitely some Eliza effect shit.

Why is he so interested in the A380 then? Doesn’t he have all of the aeroplane data neatly stored in his head? What surprises Hank more is something akin to confusion on Connor’s face every time he gets overly excited about the giant of the skies. Maybe he’s surprised by his new-found interest, too. At least there’s something Hank can tell him about from the old days (ah, proud A380 pilot) during long transatlantic flights.

Fucking Eliza effect bullshit.

P.S. if you want to leave an ask about this au, please do! I get asks so rarely so I’m excited hahah. But you can ask literally anything else, too lol

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

That Fluff Alphabet is making me melt already 🥹 Shanks is my present comfort character ❤️ (and Sanji, of course, but I'm just requesting Shanks for now), and I would love to see your headcanons for:

Domestic

Hugs

Listening

No rush! Thank you as always for sharing your talented writing with us lil' mortals. We are unworthy 🫶

First one!! And it's our silly redhead??

I am squealing.

Only internally, though. Don't want to frighten the neighbors.

Anyway. Gonna post this, then get the Fluffy Alphabet Masterlist set up.

For my other asks, I have already logged the requests for Mihawk and Sanji and edited the main Fluffy Alphabet post accordingly.

D is for Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning and other such household chores?)

“The only way this ship would feel more like home would be if you came with me.”

Settling down by definition isn’t exactly in Shanks’s nature. He has always considered himself at home on the sea—but when your relationship gets serious, he’s going to do absolutely everything in his power to convince you to come with him.

Will literally get on his knees and beg if he has to. There’s no room for shame, he wants you with him and he’ll do anything to make it happen. So in that way, he is perfectly content with "settling down."

As far as chores go, he does his best. There are a lot of things that are difficult to do with only one hand, but he’s learned to make due in most respects, and he always wants to help as much as possible. Any partnership is supposed to be fifty-fifty, and if he can help with anything in any way, he's going to.

He’s a little scatterbrained, so his cabin tends to get a little cluttered on a semi-regular basis; but if it gets to the point that it’s a problem or he notices it’s bothering you, he’ll straighten up himself without being asked.

H is for Hugs (How do they like to hug you? How often?)

“Oh, nonsense, you can stay a bit longer.”

His primary love language is physical affection, so if you happen to be near him, he’ll have his arm around you in a second.

Pulling you to his side almost absently and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead or the crown of your hair, even if he’s in the middle of talking to someone else or otherwise occupied.

Constantly sneaking up behind you to wrap his arm around your waist because he thinks it’s just adorable when you jump in alarm and scold him or elbow him in the ribs for scaring you.

Absolutely refusing to let you go until he’s done hugging you, even if you have something you need to do, and probably pouting about it a bit after he does. Mostly all in good fun...but really, the more often you have your arms around each other, the better.

L is for Listening (How are their listening skills? Do they hang on your every word, or is it sort of in-one-ear-and-out-the-other?)

“Er…what was that, doll?”

Poor, poor easily distracted baby. He tries. He really does.

A lot of times things will go in one ear and out the other, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. He really doesn’t. He’s a bit scatterbrained, he has a rather large crew to run, and things do get overlooked or forgotten from time to time.

He always feels absolutely awful about it, will apologize endlessly even if you’re understanding.

But it's only the little things. Important things, dates like your birthday or your anniversary, little seemingly insignificant details about when you first met or first kissed or anything of that sort that even you might have forgotten? Those, he doesn’t forget, and he never will.

Actively listening, though—you’re going to get quite a few vacant stares, quite a bit of “Hmm?” or “Sorry, love, I was miles away,” accompanied with a guilty grin.

[muffinlance]

I saw your “Zuko brings home two dragons and becomes fire lord” story (it was awesome :3). But what if Zuko got hurt somehow and the dragons went apeshit. (Cause they’re friends right?)

(Continued from this prompt.)

Hakoda’s fleet set sail six months ago. Fire Lord Ozai was assassinated in the middle of his own war council, by his own son, two months ago. The Earth Kingdom contacted Hakoda three weeks ago, with the proposal for a joint operation.

The new Fire Lord is traveling his lands, securing allies—rooting out opposition—in the wake of his regicide. A source close to his inner council, one concerned by violence uncommon even by the standards of Fire Nation nobility, leaked his travel schedule. Much of it is by sea.

They skirt the blockade to the South, between shifting glaciers. They work their way north, flying merchant flags. They strike at night. The deck crew is easily overtaken. Understaffed, even. Suspiciously so. But if this is a trap, it’s one they’ve already sprung. And if this is the work of the same traitor that sent them the prince’s schedule and ship plans, then Hakoda won’t waste the opportunity.

“Wait,” he whispers, as Bato catches a startled servant from behind. The kid is young. In his nightclothes. Freshly scarred by his nation’s own fire, in a way that doesn’t say good things about why a young child would be coming out of the Fire Lord’s own cabin in the middle of the night. Wide gold eyes stare at Hakoda over the top of Bato’s muffling hand. 

“Son of a—” hisses Bato, as quietly as a man can, when a child has just bitten his hand. The kid keeps struggling as Bato pins him against a wall. Hakoda shoves the Fire Lord’s door open, and—

Is greeted by an empty cabin, with mussed sheets, still warm from their occupant’s departure.

Hakoda steps back into the passageway, and crouches down to the kid’s eye level. “Easy; we aren’t here to hurt you. Where’s the Fire Lord?”

The kid glowers at him. “Did General Bujing hire you?” 

Footsteps down the companionway herald a much different general’s arrival. “That would be telling,” says Fong. “Excellent work, Chief. We’ll take it from here.”

…Facts click into place, and Hakoda does not like what he’s left with.

The kid is the Fire Lord. 

The Fire Lord is barely thirteen.

And Hakoda is realizing how much of their intelligence on the monstrous patricidal new Fire Lord came through Earth Kingdom channels, and how many details Fong did not find pertinent for the Water Tribe’s easily recruited Chief to know. 

“I think we can keep one kid contained on our ship,” says Bato, who also saw the cell General Fong had specially prepared. It had seemed a reasonable cruelty, at the time.

“I’ll bite you again,” growls the Fire Nation’s tiniest despot, not helping.

There’s a tense moment as Hakoda’s men, finished securing the ship, gather around him. Just as Fong’s men are gathering around him.

“Very well,” the general concedes, with a smile Hakoda no longer finds affable.

* * *

The new Fire Lord is a man of his word: he does, indeed, bite Bato again.

* * *

It’s dawn on deck. They hurry the prince off his own ship, partially to get away from Fong, and partially to move the boy past his dead countrymen as quickly as possible. The kid’s face had been—

Hakoda had not expected to find the new Fire Lord so young. But it’s even more of a surprise, somehow, to find that the new Fire Lord cares. Not all of the kid’s crew are dead. And it wasn’t the plan, but… Hakoda orders them left that way. Sends his own healer over to save as many as possible. 

“You didn’t use your fire against us,” Hakoda comments, as they stand on his own ship. Fire Lord Zuko’s eyes are fixed on the triage happening on the next deck over. But he takes a moment to look up at Hakoda, and finds a shade even paler than white to turn. 

The healing burn over his own face was a partial answer. The look on his face gives Hakoda the rest. 

“Good,” Hakoda says, even though the kid hasn’t said anything. “Fire shouldn’t be turned on people.”

���Fire is life,” the boy says quietly, in some kind of agreement. He turns back to watching his crew, his people. Those of them that can be saved. 

Hakoda knows that feeling. Has stood that watch. 

It’s dawn, so a streak of red in the sky can go unnoticed for quite some time. Blue as well, as the morning’s colors fade. Until both are rather too close to be ignored. 

Exclamations spread among the crew. He can hear them from Fong’s ship, as well. But it’s the cheering on the Fire Lord’s ship that sends the first chill down his spine. 

The new Fire Lord is barely thirteen. And he hasn’t been scared at all during this; not for himself. 

Hakoda realizes again just how little he knows about the new Fire Lord, just in time for two dragons to land. The blue one dives into the water. It barely makes a splash, but the force of water its titanic body displaces sends his ship lurching under his feet. It surfaces again, the great coils of its body wrapped around all three ships. It’s like something from a drunken sailor’s yarn about sea serpents; the kind that shouldn’t have left any witnesses alive to tell the tale.

The red one lands almost daintily, its four feet touching down on the only ship it doesn’t care about sinking, like a polar bear-ferret perched on a too-small rock. The rails of General Fong’s ship are forced down nearly to the waterline, his crew scattering and shouting. 

Two heads the size of a god’s dreaming loom over Hakoda’s deck.

The boy next to him huffs. “I’m fine,” he says. And then he looks up at Hakoda, with that same confidence he’s had, even when he was tackled by strange men in the darkness of his own ship. 

“The war is over,” says the burned child, with the force of two ancient dragons behind him. “We should negotiate.”

…Hakoda negotiates.

(Read more prompts || Longer ATLA fics || Original works)

[paperultra]

prometheus.

Pairing: OPLA!Nami x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,717 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

mesmeric (adjective): appealing; drawing attention limerence (noun): the state of being infatuated with another person

The first time you see her, you think that perhaps you’ve had way too much to drink.

The tavern is crowded, loud, filthy, the countertops tacky with spilled booze, the music too sharp and the air too humid. Sweat covers your forehead the way condensation coats the outside of your glass; the drink inside sloshes over the top as your crewmates push and shove you around in your seat, their clamoring for more beer drowning out any semblance of a thought in your head.

Noise. Drunkenness. Celebration. It's everything a pirate could want after a successful raid.

You just want to go to sleep.

“Mind if I sit here?” The voice of your ship’s first mate cuts through the fog.

“Sure,” you mumble. Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind if a rabid grizzly took the neighboring stool right now. “You can have the rest of my drink, too.”

She laughs. You’ve never known the first mate to laugh, so you use what little of your strength is left to turn your head and look over at her.

Everything else in the crowded, loud, filthy tavern ceases to exist.

Sitting in the seat right next to you is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. She smiles at you, and it’s the kind of smile that follows hearty laughter, the kind that makes a person’s face glow and crinkles the corners of their eyes. Roughly chopped hair frames her face like untamed fire and her gaze feels like the ocean on a sunny day. She has freckles.

Your grip tightens on your glass. Mouth dry, you open it to speak, to apologize and ask if you could buy her a drink or several, but nothing comes out.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” the girl asks. “You sure filled up the place pretty quick.”

When she speaks, the chaos around the two of you rushes back into your ears. Blinking, you look around and pause at the sight of your captain and the shipwright sparring on top of one of the tables. Embarrassment flashes hotly through you as you glance back at the girl. (She’s still there.)

“Yeah,” you answer. “Treasure.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Oh? That’s definitely worth celebrating.” She slides her bottle over to clink it against your glass, then brings it to her lips; your heart thuds as she meets your eye from the corner of hers. “Tell me about it.”

You finish the rest of your cocktail and tell her.

When dawn broke this morning, the first mate had recognized another pirate ship sailing in the same direction as your own. She alerted the captain, who, itching to settle a personal score of which you had no details, ordered the crew to tail it. The rest of the morning and the entire afternoon was spent in a bloody chase-and-attack. Ultimately, your crew prevailed, and upon pillaging the other ship laid claim to a large pile of gold and silver.

You, being only one position removed from a lowly cabin girl, spent most of the time serving as cannon fodder. You don’t tell her that. The details are a bit foggy, anyway.

“That’s amazing. I’ve heard of you guys before, but I never thought I’d ever run into the whole crew,” the girl exclaims once you’re done recalling. “What’s your Jolly Roger look like again?”

“It’s …” All of a sudden, you draw a blank. Shit. “Um … oh, it has violet crossbones and a crack straight down the skull. I … I think …” You frown. “I should check.”

The girl grabs your shoulder and chuckles as you attempt to teeter off the stool, keeping you in place. Her firm grasp burns against your skin.

“I think you’re a little too drunk to wander off right now,” she chides while you steady yourself against the counter, your head going fuzzy for more than one reason. “You’re definitely right, anyway. I remember what it looks like now.”

“Okay.” The next thing you know, she’s standing up, letting go of your shoulder. You frown. “Where … where’re you going?”

“Just going to the bathroom. Watch my drink for me?”

She winks. You assure her that you will, but you break your promise the moment you make it, eyes fixed instead on the back of the girl’s head until the bright fire of her hair is finally lost in the crowd.

She never comes back.

(It’s almost dawn when your crew stumbles back to the ship, loose-limbed and completely exhausted. And as you drag yourself into your hammock, only partially sobered up, you think you hear somebody shriek that half the raid’s treasure is gone.)

(You just turn over and go to sleep.)

—

The second time you see her, it’s by accident.

You’re in town to buy candles and rope with the cabin girl, having been relegated to babysitting duty once again, but she somehow managed to slip away while you were walking through the market. You’ve been going in circles for the past half-hour trying to locate the damn kid.

“Genie!” You narrowly avoid a stack of cages with chickens in them – the cook will probably get some, you figure – and cup your hands around your mouth, pushing against the flow of foot traffic. “Genie, you little brat –”

Someone bumps your shoulder as they pass by. You feel a weight leave the belt loop of your pants.

The money.

Fuck.

Whipping around, you spot a flash of navy-blue polka dots just as they disappear into the throng of people. Genie gets shoved to the back of your mind as you immediately set off in pursuit.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Nobody else seems to care as you squeeze in between bodies and boxes, jumping over stray dogs and shouting after the thief. It’s your fault, after all. You were thoughtless with how you carried the money.

(Or maybe they can tell you’re a small-time pirate, greedy and violent, and have concluded that you got what you deserved. You are not a person to be feared and certainly not one to step aside for.)

After what seems to be an eternity, you manage to break out of the crowd, promptly stumbling over a broken brick in the road. Sweat drips down your back and sticks to your blouse as you catch a glimpse of polka dots vanishing into a nearby alleyway.

You’re screwed if the captain finds out you got robbed.

Sprinting into the alley, you leap at the thief, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt just as they begin to scale the wall.

“Oi,” you snarl, spinning them around, “who the hell do you think you –"

A face that you thought you’d never see again stares back at you, and the rest of your sentence breaks off in your throat.

The girl from the tavern takes the opportunity to knee you in the stomach and twist away. But you’re stronger, and you’ve felt worse; instinctively, you move behind her and wrap an arm around her neck, holding tight while your other hand slips behind to prevent her from headbutting you. Her hands shoot up and her nails dig painfully into your skin.

“Let go of me!” she orders through gritted teeth, kicking at you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you say, thoughts running a thousand miles a minute. “Just give me back my money.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know you.”

You grit your teeth. There’s no doubt in your mind, and you know that there’s no doubt in hers. “You ran away after taking my bag.”

“I didn’t take anything. You started yelling and chasing after me out of nowhere.”

“Why would you run if you didn’t take it?”

“You’re a pirate,” she hisses. “Of course I would run.”

“How do you know I’m a pirate?” you ask.

The girl stills for a mere second. It’s enough to feel her inhale against your chest, your nose nearly pressed against the cap that she’d tucked her orange hair underneath.

“I can just tell,” she mutters. Her tone is so bitter, so hateful that you can taste it. “All pirates are the same.”

Your arms begin to bleed.

You open your mouth to protest. You want to argue that she’s wrong – you aren’t the same, you’re not bloodthirsty or greedy like your captain, your first instinct isn’t to hurt people to get what you want.

But to say that now, with your arm around her throat, unwilling to let go under the pretense of demanding money that isn’t even yours to begin with? Even you recognize the hypocrisy. That bitterness and hatred is directed at you too.

You let go of her, jaw clenched.

“Sorry,” you mutter. You release her and step away. She steps back as well, eyeing you warily, and the muffled sound of coins clinking together reaches your ears. You don’t so much as direct your gaze towards the source. “I must’ve mixed you up with the thief somehow.”

She scoffs. “Yeah.”

(So she’s committing to the bit until the very end.)

You take one last look at her. Her stony expression, so different from the smiling, pleasant one you can only recall through a haze from three months ago, sinks into your memory and settles there with purpose.

“Have a nice day,” you say.

You turn on your heel, fingers brushing over the trail of bloody crescents she had left on your arm, and leave the alleyway for good.

—

The third time you see her, you know it’s fate.

You’re at a different tavern, on a different island, for a different reason. The patrons are elderly and sparse in number, and they like to brag about how they can still drink you under the table. There’s no music and the countertops are kept clean.

When they walk in, it’s almost the end of your shift – you’re sweeping underneath the corner table for the second time and hear them before you turn around.

“Ah, great! I’m starving.”

“You ate just before we disembarked.”

“And I’ll eat afterwards too!”

You suppress a snort, dragging your broom around the table’s base. Grey will be happy with these customers, for sure. More dishes bring more work, but they also bring more beri.

A girl speaks next. “If you have the money for twenty servings of meat, go right ahead, Luffy.”

Your grip tightens around the broom handle until your knuckles crack.

The crumbs on the floor completely forgotten, you turn around, slowly, carefully, and fire fills your vision once again.

It stares back at you, eyes wide, lips parted. Her fingers twitch at her sides.

Fate, surely.

“Hello!” says the boy on her right, the one in an odd straw hat. “We’re here to eat.”

You take in a breath.

“Hi,” you rasp, heart squeezing in your chest, making itself known for the first time in a year. “You can take a seat anywhere.”

The girl nods, the movement deliberate and cautious. Three of the people with her furrow their brows at you, but the straw hat simply jaunts to a table in the center and sits down, prompting them to break their gazes and follow behind him.

You finish sweeping to collect yourself, then head over with a notepad and a pen.

“What can I get for you guys?”

They each give you their drink of choice. The straw hat then rattles off a number of dishes, seeming to have completely forgotten the girl’s earlier warning, and you note them down the best you can.

“Okay.” You repeat the order, receiving satisfied grunts upon reciting it correctly. “Anything else?”

The blond-haired man shoots you a crooked smirk. “Just your wonderful presence, miss,” he tells you with a wink.

You stand awkwardly.

“… Thank you,” you reply after some time, not sure how else to respond. “My shift ends soon, though.”

The green-haired man and the guy in the bandana do little to hide their snorts. The blond-haired man clears his throat, murmuring a soft ‘oh, how unfortunate’ with a disappointed smile, and says that they’ll make do with the wonderful drinks and meals that are sure to come.

Well, that’s that.

You begin to head to the kitchen when the girl’s voice rings out behind you, halting you in your steps.

“When’s the end of your shift?”

You don’t dare to look over your shoulder. “In thirty minutes.”

“Do you mind waiting around for a little while afterward?” she asks, and it’s a question, not an order.

“I don’t mind,” you say. It’s the answer you would’ve given either way.

—

The girl’s name is Nami. Wave. You wonder if she knows the violence with which she’d crashed into the tiny island of your life.

She sits across from you at the table in the corner, just far enough away from her comrades to not be eavesdropped on, though you suspect they’ll try their best. She cocks her head to the side and her eyes narrow at you.

“The eyepatch is new,” she finally says.

“It came with my resignation.”

“You left your crew?”

“Yeah.”

You avert your gaze. A frown graces Nami’s face.

“What brought you here?” The suspicion in her tone is almost imperceptible, but it’s there.

“This is my hometown. I came back about two months ago to save up for the time being.”

“Save up for what?”

“I don’t know. Another adventure, I guess.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “Can I ask you a question now?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Why did you talk to me at the bar?”

“Because you seemed like a soft touch,” Nami replies.

Ouch. That stings your pride a bit. The fact that she had known that from the very beginning makes you wonder what else she knows.

“Why did you steal from me in Wolftown?”

“Because I knew you were a pirate.” She leans forward in her chair, arms crossed over the table. “Why did you let me go?”

You swallow.

“I … wanted to prove you wrong,” you tell her. Tracing a long scratch on the table, you don’t tell her that you’ve thought about her words every morning while at sea, the disgust that fell so easily from her tongue, or that they fell from your own as you clutched your eye socket and spat at your captain’s feet. “But you ended up being right in the end.”

“… Oh,” Nami says.

She shifts in her seat. Her attention turns briefly to the group of men still sitting at their table – they are watching, not even trying to be subtle – and she worries her lower lip, contemplative, before turning back to you.

“Not all pirates … are the same,” she admits softly. “I was wrong.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. You sit quietly while she speaks with a strange conviction.

“There are good ones. Not a lot, but some. Maybe you were one of them.”

You glance at her friends. Understanding dawns upon you, and it’s envy and gladness all at the same time.

“I don’t think I was,” you finally say. “But I’m happy you found some.”

She huffs out a laugh. It’s clear and present and genuine. “They found me. I didn’t have a choice.”

You grin, cheeks warming under the sun of her smile and hands folded on the edge of the table as the two of you chuckle together.

“Nami.” Her name burns your lips and washes over them once the amusement dies down. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Surprise flickers across Nami’s face.

She blinks once, not speaking for a moment, and you realize that you’ve made a mistake for the umpteenth time. However, just when you’re about to backtrack and leave the tavern never to return, the girl reaches out across the table towards you.

(Three years from now, you will stand on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, and Nami will tell you that she thought about you everyday after the incident in the alleyway. And you will laugh, and kiss her, and say that you’ve thought about her every day since the night she robbed your old pirate ship. The pains of the past will only be a faint scar.)

(But for now, you sit across from each other and smile.)

“Sure,” she murmurs. “I’d like that.”

[nikhilamecet]

The cabin crew, often called flight attendants, are the friendly faces you see on airplanes. Their main job is to take care of passengers while they're on a flight. They help passengers find their seats, serve food and drinks, and make sure everyone is safe and comfortable. They're like the hosts and hostesses of the airplane.

Cabin crew members are really important in aviation. They're not just there to serve snacks and drinks. Their main job is to keep everyone safe. They are trained to handle emergencies like turbulence, medical issues, or even evacuating the plane if something goes wrong. So, they play a crucial role in making sure flights are safe and enjoyable for passengers.

Working as cabin crew can offer a great career path. It's not just a job; it's an adventure. You get to travel to different places, meet people from all around the world, and learn new things every day. Plus, there are opportunities for growth in the airline industry. You can become a senior cabin crew member, supervisor, or even move into other areas like training or management. So, it's a job with lots of exciting possibilities.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 17

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 3.2K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Time marched slowly forward as the leaves transitioned from their lush greens to the vibrant oranges and reds of September, eventually cascading to the ground in early October. During this period, you and Kai navigated the intricacies of your blossoming relationship. Your visits to the village became more frequent, turning day trips into extended stays where you would help his mother tend to her garden or bake, and assist with various repairs around the village. Nights were often spent at Kai’s cottage, where you would indulge in simple meals, trade stories, and share laughter over spirits and wines obtained from his trades with the lumber crew. The joy and laughter you experienced with Kai were unlike anything you had felt in a long time. 

Kai had a unique way of seeing the world, viewing it through a lens of wonder rather than fear. Every creek was an invitation to explore, every field beckoned to lie beneath the sun, and every moment demanded to be cherished. You often caught him sneaking glances at you across the gardens, flashing a coy smile, to which you would respond by sticking your tongue out. Even his father, usually stoic, couldn't help but smile beneath his beard at his son's antics, especially when Kai followed you on woodland hikes or dove into waterfalls with you.

Despite the ever-present murmur of your mate in the back of your mind, you found it easier and easier to calm it, to let it rest untouched. Kai insisted on keeping physical intimacy to a minimum, stopping wandering hands and lustful moans with a gentle touch or a soft pull away. You would growl in frustration, hungry for more, but he always shook his head, his eyes tracing your lips and the lines of your face before kissing you again. He claimed he wanted to let you heal, to learn how you wanted to be held and touched before progressing further. Though you would roll your eyes and huff, you never fought him on it. Each day, it felt as if the wound that once lay open and bleeding was slowly scabbing over.

You decided to keep your relationship with Kai within the village, reserving the cabin in the woods as a sanctuary for yourself. While you trusted Kai, you couldn't help but prepare for the possibility that the Mother might have other plans, and you didn’t know if you could survive having that place tainted with hurt. Kai never questioned your decision, always kissing you softly on the forehead before you ventured back into the wilderness, promising to return soon.

The shadows that once flitted and flickered in odd ways seemed less frequent, appearing only when you were back at the cabin. You attributed this to the changing leaves and the wind, finding comfort in the thought that the world was simply shifting with the seasons, just as you were.

________________________________________________________

“My father and I are making a trip to the city next week,” Kai said, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had fallen into. You paused, looking up from where you steeped the tea in the kettle on the stove, gazing out into the deep December dredges of blues and purples.

“Fun,” you replied, continuing to bounce the bag within the liquid, which slowly curled with brown swirls.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to join us.”

You sucked your teeth slightly. “Um,” you started, “I don’t know.”

Kai stood from the floor, where he had been idly sharpening one of his saws. “I just thought it might be fun.” He came up behind you, wrapping his long arms around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck and brushing away your hair with his nose. “Get out for a bit, see something new.”

You smiled, your eyes closing slightly as you leaned your head back. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“What are you worried about?” he asked, pressing a kiss into your neck.

You shook your head lightly, breathing a sigh. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Then come with us,” he pleaded. “A few days' travel up and back and two days in the city.”

You turned your head to look at him as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “I don’t know if I can manage a week of uninterrupted time with you. I might kill you,” you joked.

“Then I would die happy,” he smiled.

You packed enough clothes to get you through the week, closing down the cabin in the woods for possible snow. While the mountains around you had done a fantastic job breaking up the clouds, a few flurries still managed to make their way down and blanket the floor of the forest in a light frosting. Kai had remarked that it had been a surprisingly light winter so far, and you only prayed it would remain that way.

You brought Clover to the village, securing him in a pen with other mules. He groaned at you as you unbridled him.

“What?” you asked him.

He threw his long snout over his shoulder to look at you, seemingly annoyed with the entire situation. “It’s a week. And you’ll be with friends,” you said, patting his rear lightly.

Clover grumbled in response and sent a huff out through his nose, the condensation swirling in the chill of the morning.

“Did you want your own private suite?” you mockingly asked as you tried to scoot behind him. Clover stood in the covered barn, staring out as other donkeys and horses munched on hay in the middle of the field. “Go,” you bayed him, “be social.”

As you made your way to the gate, he looked at you from the side of his eyes with an incredulous gaze. Apparently, his private life among the forest had spoiled him. You called out, “I’ll see you in a week, you grumpy ass.”

You walked down the slick street of the cottages towards Kai’s place, where you found him just closing the door of the cottage. A warm wool scarf was tied around his neck, covering his mouth slightly. His jacket, worn from years in the snow, had various patches on it and one pocket with a sizeable hole, but the red that shone on his cheeks in the cold sent a smile running through your body.

He turned to look at you and slung his bag up over his back. “Ready?” he asked.

You nodded, and he bounded down the stairs, his legs nearly flying out from under him as he slipped on some ice, but he caught himself with a jolt against the railing. After regaining his composure, he stood and you stifled a giggle that rose from your stomach.

The two of you met his father down by their barn as he was throwing another saddle over the back of one of the lumber horses. These were giant beasts with long flowing manes, their fur longer than the average horse and built as though there was nothing in their body but muscle. The horses let out light chuffs as they idly shifted from hoof to hoof, eager to move their legs that had grown cold in the breeze of early winter.

Kai helped his father attach the pull cart to the back of the largest horse, whose chestnut brown fur was caked with dirt. His father threw a tarp over the load and then promptly went back to the house, claiming he had left something behind.

Kai ran his hands through the mane of his own mare, whom he had named Ingrid, as you slowly brushed your gloved hands down the snout of Lila, the horse you were to trek with.

“She’s a good girl,” Kai called over to you. “Strong and reliable.”

“Maybe I should have told you that I’ve never ridden a horse before we got this far,” you said nervously.

Kai’s eyes widened. “Never?” You shook your head in response. “Well, I guess I’m glad you’re telling me now.” He walked over to you, his boots crunching down the frost of the barn floor. He explained how to get onto the horse, and more importantly, how to get off without falling, and went over basic commands which Lila followed without much hesitation. “She knows the way,” Kai told you. “She’ll keep you safe.”

Kai grabbed the small stool from the side of the barn and placed it next to Lila. You hoisted one leg over the top of her, your thigh barely able to lift over her height, but with a slightly ungraceful boost from Kai, you were able to settle in. Lila shifted onto her back hooves as you gripped the reins.

Kai tightened the saddle slightly and peered up at you. “You look nice from this angle,” he joked.

You threw him a vulgar gesture as he went to mount his own horse, easily throwing his weight up and over as his father returned, a pack of steaming rolls wrapped in a linen towel, flushing savory smells of warm meats and cheese into your nose. His father gave one to each of you, which you scarfed down greedily while trying to keep one hand steady on Lila. Within five minutes, the three of you were off, just as the sun peeked over the mountain.

You rode for hours through the woods, joking and laughing with Kai, while his father rode ahead, seemingly content in his silence.

Lila trudged forward, very aware of the path and needing little guidance from you, which you were grateful for. Instead of having to focus on her, you cast long glances into the deeper woods where the quiet of winter was settling in. Birds that overwinter chirped above and squirrels sent cascades of snow down from the branches, sometimes landing on your head or down the back of Kai’s shirt, which sent him shivering and gripping for his collar. You stopped only for a quick lunch, becoming increasingly aware that you would have to relieve yourself at some point. However, the idea of going to the bathroom in the woods with two males nearby overwhelmed your need to pee. You also found your thighs sore and your gait slightly wider as you adjusted to the width of Lila.

You made the trip in just under three days, a much shorter ride than the walk that originally brought you to the cabin. As you passed the clearing that you remembered from your initial journey out, you felt your heart catch in your throat as you peered down at the city. The evening light was just settling in off the Sidra as the rooftops, lined with light snow, began to glisten in the pinks of the setting sun.

You made it to the gates just before dark, with Kai’s father showing the documented paperwork that allowed him to sell in the Starfall Festival Market. The guard allowed you all in, and you left the horses near the outer stables, their weary bodies aching from the cold as much as your own. Kai’s father unhooked the cart, storing it in the adjoining pen before the three of you turned to walk into the city, which was still bustling with life. As darkness descended, the fae lights rose in the night.

You took in the sights and sounds of a Velaris winter. The sour aromas of cranberry cider wafted through the air, followed by the savory scents of meat pies and spices. Kai’s father opted to turn in early for the night after checking into the inn where you would be staying. Kai insisted that the two of you head into the city to enjoy the night, and you begrudgingly agreed.

Kai took your hand in his, his fingertips chilled and icy as he led you through the streets. The cobblestones had been cleared of all snow, and you wondered if it had anything to do with magic or if the city cleaners had just swept day in and day out during winter. Kai’s eyes shone bright in the fae light as he marveled at all the sights. Garland was strung between lampposts and houses, red berries nestled within the needles, and wreaths hung on nearly every door. You tried to push down a growing sadness as you held back the memories of your starfalls with your mother.

Kai barely seemed to notice your quiet demeanor as he continued through the streets, dragging you along. Music played from every corner, and Kai stopped at each band for a moment to listen before smiling widely at you. As the two of you passed a pastry shop, he pressed his nose to the glass, admiring the various pastries with fillings spilling over their edges, their buttery toppings glistening under the lights. The whole city seemed unreal, its beauty outshining even the brightest stars, and everyone was out in the streets, shopping for last-minute gifts.

As the crowds grew denser the further into the city you walked, Kai’s grip became tighter as you weaved through the bodies toward the city center, where the market would be

As the crowds grew denser the further into the city you walked, Kai’s grip tightened as you weaved your way through the bustling throngs toward the city center, where the market would be taking place the following night. Vendors were already surveying their booths, setting up colorful displays of goods and wares. Kai wandered between the stalls, stopping to chat with familiar faces while you stood next to him, smiling politely and taking in the lively atmosphere.

When he finally found his father’s booth, where they would be selling woodcarvings from the village lumbermen, Kai was reluctantly convinced to return to the warmth of the inn. 

As the two of you wound your way through the streets, opting this time to take the quieter sidestreets, you watched as Kai continued to marvel at the sights, his eyes lighting up at every possible occasion. The narrow alleys were adorned with twinkling fairy lights and garlands, creating a magical glow that reflected off the cobblestones. The sounds of distant laughter and music filled the air, mingling with the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine.

You both walked in comfortable silence, the cold air nipping at your cheeks and the festive decorations casting a warm glow over the city. Kai’s childlike wonder was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more genuinely as you shared in his excitement. Every so often, he would point out something of interest—a particularly ornate wreath, a musician playing a beautiful melody, or a baker’s stall with intricately decorated pastries.

Kai purchased warm wine for both of you, and you stood against the wall of the Sidra, holding the cup to your nose and savoring the rich aroma. The warm liquid lined your throat, sending a comfortable burn through your body. Its full body and intense flavor made you curl your lips, sucking every last drop as you took in the people wandering before you.

“I’m really happy you came with me,” Kai noted. You turned to look at him through your lashes, now flecked with snowflakes.

You smiled at him. “I’m happy I came too.”

“I know this is probably hard, or it was. But I think that you coming back here is a good thing.”

You nodded, taking another sip of your wine and silently wishing the conversation would be over. You didn’t want your own sad memories and yearning to ruin a good night for the two of you. Just as Kai was about to say something else, you heard a voice yelling his name over the crowd. Kai perked up slightly, trying to peer over the sea of people. When his name was shouted again, Kai began waving, his lanky arm sailing through the flurry of snow as he shouted back, “Sylvan!”

You watched as a male, near the same age as you and Kai, bounded through the crowd, nearly toppling a female carrying three boxes stacked high. He apologized profusely as he continued toward you. The male had pale peach skin, a mess of ginger curls, and a face splattered with freckles. His clothes were much more suited for city life than either yours or Kai’s.

As he approached, Kai reached out in an open-armed hug to embrace the stranger.

“I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow!” the ginger-haired fae, giddy with enthusiasm, nearly shook Kai in his arms.

“We beat the storm out. Got in this evening!” Kai replied, pulling back and slapping the other male on the back.

“Where’s your dad?”

“Old bastard couldn’t be bothered to come out for a good time.” Kai flashed a smile over his shoulder before turning to you. “Sylvan, this is Y/N. Y/N, Sylvan.”

You reached your hand out to shake Sylvan’s, and he gave you an exaggerated bow, pressing a kiss to your hand as he crooned in feigned regality, “M’lady.”

Kai rolled his eyes and smacked Sylvan on the back of his head, causing him to yelp in pain and rub the spot. “What was that for?” he asked, checking his hand for any damage.

“For being an idiot and embarrassing yourself,” Kai scolded.

Sylvan looked up at you with a rather mocking tone. “I’m sorry for being a fool.”

You giggled slightly. “It’s alright,” you responded.

Kai shot Sylvan a stern look. “Don’t encourage him.”

Sylvan allowed a coy smile to spread across his face as he looked at you and then turned back to Kai. “So what have you been up to? Since apparently it isn’t coming to find me.”

“We’ve been wandering, looking at stalls, buying wine.”

Sylvan turned to look at you and then back to Kai. “She’s with you?”

Taking the opportunity to insert yourself into the conversation, you confidently replied, “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Did he catch you against your will and force you to spend time with him?” Sylvan asked, turning to you.

“His father pays me by the hour,” you smirked, and Kai simply shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

Sylvan nudged his elbow into your side. “Well, if we go by the hour, just let me know the address to send money to.”

Kai’s face dropped. “Alright, that’s enough.”

You smirked at both of them, your eyes meeting Kai’s, who sent you a silent apology. You merely shook your head.

“So?” Sylvan started, “Drinks? Food?”

“I think we’re—” Kai began, but you interrupted.

“You know what, Kai? I think I’m getting pretty tired, so I might turn in for the night.” You smiled at him.

“I can walk you back,” he offered, taking a step towards you, but you raised your hand, shaking your head.

“No, no, that’s okay! You go spend some time with your friend. I’ll see you later.”

Kai looked between you and Sylvan, who seemed to be nodding along with your plan, mischievously grinning.

With a sigh, Kai said, “Alright,” and Sylvan nearly jumped up and down with excitement.

You gripped Kai’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it and turning to walk back towards the inn. You called over your shoulder, “Take care of him, Sylvan. Don’t let him get into trouble.” Sylvan may have responded, though you didn’t hear him as you made your way through the bustling streets.

Here we go... @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006

[rea-grimm]

Full moon - Werewolf Shanks

You sailed aboard the Red Force under the black flag of the red-haired pirates for a little over half a year.

During that time, you had a chance to notice Shanks regularly locking himself in his cabin once a month like clockwork. Or when you were on land, he would disappear and only come back in the morning.

You let it go. Everyone had the right to their privacy and most importantly it didn't affect your relationship in any particular way... Maybe just a little when he pushed you away with various excuses in those days.

You were sailing the sea and there was no land in sight. You saw the captain getting more and more nervous by the day. He tried to be his classic self, but you noticed the little details that gave him away.

You tried to distract him and cheer him up a bit, but it didn't help much. Of course, he appreciated your effort, and he smiled, but there was still that unusual nervousness.

However, it disappeared the same afternoon when a new island finally came into view. You saw on him how the stone fell from his heart.

You only reached the island in the evening, when it was slowly getting dark. Shanks decided to go look for supplies while the others stayed on the ship. The ban on leaving the ship applied mainly to you.

You protested that you wanted to go too, but Shanks stood by the fact that the island was too dangerous for you. Ultimately, you had to promise him that you would stay on the ship.

As a reward, he kissed you on the lips before leaving and promised to make it up to you the next day. And with that, he left the ship. Leaning on the railing, you watched him disappear into the forest.

After some time you just went for a walk around the deck when you noticed the others watching you warily. Some hid it well, but others completely turned around and were quite noticeable.

Something was wrong. But you didn't want to ask right away. Instead, you went to the study room to look at the maps. You pulled out a few books and the right maps and started searching.

After some time you finally found the proof you needed. This island was not dangerous at all. Exactly opposite. There was no danger at all.

There was no population and no dangerous predators. Now you were even more curious about why he lied to you.

You first decided to find out from the crew members who knew more than you. But no one was going to tell you anything.

Only Benn then told you that it was the captain's secret and it wasn't his place to tell you. That only made you more angry, but you knew it wasn't worth arguing about.

Defeated, you returned to your cabin. But that didn't mean you were giving up. You just needed to come up with a plan.

You finally managed to slip out the window in your cabin undetected. You made it to the island and made your way to the forest where you had seen the captain go before.

A lot of time had passed when Yasopp came to you saying that Lucky Roux had prepared dinner. However, when you didn't answer, he peeked into your cabin and noticed the open window and your absence.

He immediately went to inform Benn and Lucky, who were supposed to keep an eye on you during Shanks' absence. It wasn't difficult to connect one and one and they immediately set out to find you on the island before something happened to you and it was too late.

You wandered through the forest and the only light was the moon. There was a full moon and not a cloud in the sky. You could even see the stars through the treetops. You called out to Shanks, but the only answer was your echo. Even so, you kept going and kept calling out to him, hoping to find him.

You stopped in your tracks as a wolf howl echoed through the forest. It caught you by surprise because according to all the books, back wolves weren't supposed to be here. No wolves, bears, lynxes and generally no predators.

You realized too late that you didn't even bring any weapons with you. You relied on books that never betrayed you, that there was no danger to be found here.

However, you weren't going to just come back empty-handed, so you moved on. You reached the edge of the forest, from where you had a view of a vast meadow where a doe and several deer were grazing.

You watched them there for a while when you noticed a large wolf-like figure in the distance. The wolf was standing on its hind legs and was missing one of its front paws. 

You hid behind the nearest bush and watched from there as the wolf got close enough to go unnoticed behind the doe before running after them.

The herd immediately fled, but it was too late to save everyone. The wolf managed to pull the largest deer to the ground and bite through its throat. Once the deer was dead, he set about feasting.

The wolf was thus in the middle of the meadow. You decided not to disturb him in his dinner and instead wanted to go around the meadow and continue your search.

As you walked on, your eyes kept sliding to the wolf. But that was your biggest mistake because you didn't notice the protruding root and you tripped. You stumbled and fell on your chin into the bush in front of you.

The wolf also heard this noise and immediately looked up from his dinner. He breezed through the air and heard the twigs crack beneath you as you struggled to get out of the bush.

As soon as you scrambled to your feet, you ran away. You only had to see the wolf coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. If he jumps on you like that deer, it will be the end of you.

You meandered through the trees like a rabbit, slowly losing the lead you had. Moreover, the forest slowly ended in front of you and before you knew it, you found yourself in a small clearing. It was only a matter of time before he knocked you to the ground.

You screamed as the werewolf jumped on you and braced yourself for the worst. Now you regretted disobeying the captain's order.

When you fell, you rolled and now you were facing the wolf. No, you faced the werewolf. At the same time, he scratched your ribs during your fall and was now pressing you to the ground with one paw. He was leaning over you with bared teeth.

You had his muzzle so close that you could see his golden eyes and the three familiar scars above his left eye. However, you focused more on his teeth, as they were the closest to you and the biggest threat.

You finally closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side. You didn't need to see everything before your end. You felt his wet nose on your cheek. You didn't understand what was happening, but you still had your eyes closed.

The werewolf stopped growling and you felt him run his snout over your face, sniffing you. You opened your eyes when you felt his wet tongue on your cheek.

You didn't understand what was happening. He nuzzled your face and you saw him wagging his tail. You carefully pulled his muzzle aside with your hand and he started licking it.

Then he looked at you with his mouth hanging open and his tongue lolling out. He looked much happier. He had a sort of smile on his face. You caressed his cheek and now noticed the red fur that at first appeared to be dark brown.

You recognised your captain in him and slowly his behaviour began to make sense to you. Why was he always locking himself up or walking away.

“I'll get back to the ship,” you said resignedly after a moment of scratching his ear long enough. 

You were about to head back to the ship when Shanks grabbed the hem of your shirt with his teeth and refused to let go. He slowly started pulling you back towards the meadow.

"I'm not sure…" you already broke his order like this. Besides, now that you knew the truth, you weren't worried about him. Shanks only huffed at you and rolled his eyes as he dragged you on.

Finally, you followed him back to the meadow, to the deer carcass. Shanks pounced on the deer and you sat a little further away. You didn't need to see everything. Even though you noticed how he chewed, he kept looking at you.

When he finally finished he licked himself contentedly and laid down right next to you before resting his head in your lap. You scratched his head and slowly leaned against him. His fur was as soft as hair. As the night wore on, your eyelids drooped and before you knew it, you were asleep.

You woke up in your bed in the morning. You sleepily sat up and wondered if it was all just a dream. You uncovered yourself when you noticed you were covered by Shanks's coat.

You were about to stretch when pain shot through your ribs. You grabbed the sore spot and noticed that your ribs were bandaged. This was evidence that last night truly happened.

When you came on board, everything was as before. Everyone was having a good time and laughing. 

Later, the captain invited you to his cabin. Shanks wanted to make sure you were okay but then reprimanded you for disobeying his order. You defended yourself by saying that nothing happened to you.

However, he explained to you that that was not the point. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. He could have killed you. But even that didn't deter you. 

Nevertheless, he admitted to you that he tolerated this transformation much better. Mostly he had negative memories of it, but this time it wasn't so bad.

That was also the reason why he forgave you. He pulled you closer to him and leaned so close he almost kissed you. You were already expecting his lips on yours when he told you that you would be receiving a private punishment that evening.

Shanks Masterlist

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.

“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.

Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.

She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.

The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.

Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love? 

A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.

“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”

He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.

“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”

Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”

Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.

Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”

She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.

“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”

But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”

“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”

Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.

Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”

Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.

The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.

Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.

He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?

A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-

“Are you alright?”

Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.

“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.

“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”

He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.

Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”

“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”

Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes. 

Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.

You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.

“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”

Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.

“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”

“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”

To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.

“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.

He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?

But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”

“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.” 

Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-

“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”

Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.

“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.

[trutrustories]

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE Part 1: Ouroboros

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining) Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta. I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

Soooo EPISODE 1, le´t go: 1)"Mobius It´s me!" few second in and we have slowmo chasing scene with detail on Loki, and Mobius and then THIS Loki´s heartbreaking look on his face here.

2) "Tell me, you recognize me!" (Loki trying to desperetly find Mobius, and then running towards him) Also If this Time slipping didn´t triggered anything external, but It´s just his own, unlocked power - I honestly don´t know, how they will explain that - does that mean, that he unknowingly unlocked this power, because he was send by Silvie into the past, and then he was simply desperete and Mobius couldn´t recognized him so his body reacted by time slipping to place and time, where Mobius would know who he is???

3) this very unexpected exhibition of touches (meaning Mobius practicaly glueing himself to Loki for this entire section)

I´m sorry, but my man here is like "no, I´m not about to let you have a personal space. NOT. AN. OPTION. let me hold you some more" xD

4) This scene in in an elevator first of all, that was a second time, he slipped and was RIGHT back with Mobius, the very next second. secondly: Mobius being scared for Loki and insisting he needs immediate help thirdly: Loki reassuring Mobius, It´s not that bad.

also this "we just had sex in a cabin" shot:

and lastly...

Big thanks to the film crew for this shot to give us an idea just HOW MUCH OF AN UNUSED SPACE was in the elevator! 👌

5) Mobius and Loki talking to OB. being perfectly coordinated team and smoothly working together, while standing on a same spot, but in a completely different time.

poetry... just poetry!

6) Distressed God and his Happy Face just so we know: how long is it, since their reunion? Because I would swear that not even five minutes ago Loki was in state of complete panic, and look at him now:

Look at him smiling, enjoying view at struggling mobius 💚

few minutes with this man, and HE forgets all about his trauma and just vibing.

me too, Loki. Me too 🥲

btw, this thing over here?!!!!

7) bickering, like married couple, part 1

8) "Mobius if I don´t make it back" and "You´ll make it back". What was it, what where you about to say Loki? It sounded important! next time TALK FASTER!

9) Mobius risking his life SKIN for loki and refusing to give up on him.

10) Loki saves Mobius in an epic fashion and they end up in a hug: also they roll around the floor together

I mean... this whole scene was absolute TOP! So yeah. That was a first episode. before the premiere I was litteraly hoping, that I will see our Loki and our Mobius together at least ONCE, before first end credits. I actually couldn´t believe my own eyes, holy shit!

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Chapter 4 of a series, but I think this one can be read by itself. <3

Summary: Blackbeard invades Stede Bonnet's ship. It follows along with the chaos of season 1 episode 4. When the reader thinks they're facing death they decide to shoot their shot with Izzy.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter 4: Discomfort in a Married State

Among all the pirate ships you’d encountered in your time sailing with Blackbeard, Stede Bonnet’s ship stood out as the most unique. The ship's cabins were stocked with an assortment of knick-knacks and exquisite china. The majority of your morning was devoted to wandering the ship, discovering its hidden treasures. 

Stede Bonnet’s crew had been assembled on the deck, currently enduring the wrath of Izzy Hands. Recognizing that you would soon be drawn into the chaos, you took a moment to enjoy the temporary peace. You stumbled upon Fang fixated on one of the cabinets. The shelves were lined with a spectacle of intricately decorated tea cups resting on saucers. 

“I like these!” Fang whispered to you as you joined him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Look at all the pretty little flowers painted on them”. 

“I like them too,” you responded smiling, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. 

Fang had an intimidating presence upon first glance. His stature was imposing, and he was a skilled fighter, capable of unleashing fierceness when he needed to. Yet, the Fang you had come to know was surprisingly gentle and sensitive. He was like a colossal teddy bear–a teddy bear with the potential to be lethal, but over the year of knowing him, you couldn’t help but grow more fond of his sensitive side. 

Ivan found both you and Fang, each holding a teacup close to your faces, thoroughly examining every little detail on the delicate glass. Ivan joined you in examining the teacups for a while before letting you know that Izzy had summoned everyone to the deck. You followed behind Fang and Ivan, joining Bonnet’s crew just as one of the men remarked that he expected Blackbeard to be taller. Fang delivered a solid whack to Black Pete’s stomach, earning a swift reprimand from Blackbeard.

As Blackbeard delivered his opening speech to Bonnet’s crew, your attention was fixed on the first mate. Izzy appeared exhausted from the unfolding situation, a stark contrast to Blackbeard’s seemingly joyful mood. It didn’t take long for Izzy to grow tired of his captain’s antics, prompting him to demand that everyone return to work. You empathized with Izzy. Managing the entire crew while navigating Blackbeard’s unpredictable moods seemed like a challenge. Izzy worked hard to ensure everyone’s safety, but it seemed like no one ever really acknowledged his efforts.   

Blackbeard retreated to Stede Bonnet’s cabin, and the remaining crew members from the Queen Anne’s Revenge dispersed to attend to other tasks aboard the ship. You observed Frenchie struggling to free his sleeve from a nail, realizing he inadvertently hammered his jacket to the deck. Taking a seat beside him, you grabbed the hammer and attempted to pry the nail from the wood, working to free Frenchie. Since you boarded his ship, you hadn’t had the chance to speak with him yet. 

“Your part of Blackbeard's crew then? I think that is fairly badass”, Frenchie remarked, casting a curious glance in your direction. Fortunately, Frenchie didn’t seem upset that you had failed to mention that on your first encounter. 

You smiled back at him, having successfully liberated his jacket from the dock. 

“Do you think we’re gonna be able to live or die?” Frenchie whispered nervously. 

“I think you’ll live,” you responded, contemplating your captain’s demeanor. “Blackbeard seems to be in a good mood, and he’s spending a lot of time taking care of your captain.”

You both chatted and shared laughs as you worked together to repair the dock. Frenchie pointed out his crewmates, offering a name and brief description for each of them. As you conversed with Frenchie, you failed to notice that Izzy had returned to the quarterdeck, and was shooting daggers in your direction. You finally noticed Izzy’s presence on deck as Buttons handed him a spyglass to gaze out at the sea. This led to Izzy cursing repeatedly as he headed in your direction. 

“Get up,” he said, seizing your arm and lifting you to stand. “You’re coming with me to find Blackbeard.” He shot a glare at Frenchie as he led you away, grumbling, “Do your own fucking work, you useless twat.” 

You and Izzy commenced the search for your captain in silence, scouring the ship. With each room you explored, you could sense Izzy’s impatience and anger escalating. “You shouldn’t be conversing or helping Bonnet’s crew,” Izzy huffed, breaking the silence. “We’ve invaded them. It’s beyond me why you’d choose to engage with their bunch when you have competent people on your crew you could talk to.” 

“Sorry, sir,” you replied genuinely, not wanting to further aggravate Izzy. 

Entering Stede’s cabin, you found it vacant. “Edward, are you in here?” Izzy called out into the empty room. 

“Why do you need to find him? What’s going on?” you inquired of Izzy. 

“The Spanish are approaching, and if we don’t come up with a plan soon we’re going to die”, Izzy spat. 

“Blackbeard has a plan though, right? He always has a plan,” you said with a tinge of fear in your voice. 

“Yes. Blackbeard always has a plan, but whoever the fuck we’re dealing with as of late is not Blackbeard”, Izzy responded with disdain. “I don’t know who that twat is.” 

Fang and Ivan quickly joined the search around the ship. Upon entering the galley, you found Bonnet’s crew enjoying a meal. Izzy was visibly displeased by this scene, and it resulted in another slap on the back of Black Pete’s head. Your three crewmates exited as quickly as they entered, and you lingered a bit longer in the galley, creating a buffer for yourself from the irate Izzy. 

“Alls I know is women are bad luck on ships. Historically”, Black Pete continued their previous conversation once he had seen the men leave. 

“That’s a myth!” Jim shot back, glaring at Pete. 

“Jim’s right!” you chimed in. “Haven’t you heard of Anne Bonny or Mary Read?” 

All eyes turned toward you in surprise as you entered the conversation. 

“Two legendary pirates, and both of them were women,” you said decisively. 

“I’m glad someone on this ship has some sense.” Jim exclaimed, giving you a nod of approval. 

You swiftly left to catch up with Izzy as the crew’s argument continued. You didn’t want the first mate to catch you fraternizing with the others again. As you were departing, you heard Frenchie begin explaining the science behind why women attract demons. 

You caught up with Izzy and the search to find Blackbeard persisted until he ultimately threw in the towel. You stood on the deck with Ivan and Fang as Bonnet’s crew carried on with their tasks on the ship. Out of the blue, Blackbeard emerged from the captain’s cabin, donned in a stylish pair of pink trousers and a billowy white shirt. Blackbeard made a dancing motion, moving the oversized sleeves of his shirt back and forth. Glancing at Ivan and Fang beside you, they appeared utterly stunned. 

As you attempted to recover from the initial shock of seeing Blackbeard in fancy attire, Stede appeared wearing Blackbeard’s leather. You glanced at Izzy in that moment, observing the veins bulging on his forehead. This was an entirely new level of anger for him. You noticed Izzy engaging in a conversation with your captain, and they temporarily stepped away. You watched as Bonnet’s crew lined up to greet him. Blackbeard’s clothes looked out of place on Stede. After a while you witnessed Izzy making a beeline towards Captain Bonnet, forcefully dragging him past you and down below the deck. Ivan and Fang followed closely behind. 

Blackbeard nonchalantly followed the group, then paused to flash you a cocky smile. “Hey, little mouse,” he grinned.  

“Stede Bonnet suits you,” you smiled back, pointing to his new outfit. 

“I agree,” he said, giving a little twirl before descending below deck. 

Once Blackbeard descended the stairs, the fog began to set in, prompting Black Pete to declare your captain a genius. You sighed in relief, rolling your eyes as you realized Blackbeard had likely been causing Izzy stress for his own entertainment. Blackbeard took great delight in unveiling the plan he had orchestrated all along, and you watched him putting on a show for all the new faces on the ship. When Izzy pointed out he had the date wrong, the mood quickly shifted. Blackbeard declared death was imminent before wandering back to Stede’s cabin declaring he was going to get drunk. 

For a moment, the entire crew froze on deck, confusion painted on their faces. You observed as each crew member slowly dispersed, heading toward what they wanted to do or who they wanted to spend their last moments with. Seeking solace, you went and sat on the stairs leading up to the quarterdeck, pondering various thoughts in your head. 

Fang found you there and joined you, sipping from a teacup. Ivan quickly followed, leaning against the banister. It wasn’t surprising that Fang and Ivan would want to spend their last moments together. Their deep connection and care for each other was clear since the moment you first met them. 

“What are you drinking, Fang?” you asked, smiling at his cup of choice. 

“Rum!” Fang giggled. “It tastes even better from this cup.” 

“Very fancy!” you replied in a playful tone. 

Your attention shifted to Izzy, leaving the deck and returning with the rum bottle you had given him. He slowly paced towards the bow of the ship, looking defeated, and then disappeared. Fang watched you as you observed Izzy. 

“You should let that little angry man know how you feel,” Fang suggested gently. 

You shot Fang a look, but did not respond. That suggestion was so ridiculous it didn’t deserve a response.  

Ivan tapped his foot against yours to get your attention before speaking. “He’s right, you know. What do you have to lose?” 

“My life, Ivan,” you replied, looking at both men with wide eyes. “I fully believe if I tried to talk about my feelings with Izzy he would stab me.” 

Fang rested his hand on your knee and squeezed lovingly. “If you don’t tell him now, you might never get to. The likelihood of death is high either way,” Fang teased softly. 

“Come on!” Ivan exclaimed, grabbing your hand and lifting you from your seated position. “We want what’s best for you, pip-squeak. It’s obvious you want to talk to him.” 

You stopped to look at both men for a second. Your heart swelled in your chest, and you kissed them both on the cheek. “Thank you for always looking after me,” you whispered before heading toward the bow. 

You discovered Izzy seated against the wall, his feet stretched out as he gazed at the ocean. 

“Hey, Izzy,” you said quietly, feeling your heart pound against your chest. “Can I join you?” 

Izzy didn’t verbally reply but shifted over, leaving enough space for you to sit on the floor next to him. There wasn’t much room on the bow’s deck, but you weren’t complaining. You settled down beside him, feeling one of your legs firmly press against his in the confined space. He glanced at you for a moment before offering the bottle of rum he was holding. 

“You got me this, so it’s only fair for me to share,” he said gruffly. 

Taking a sip, you felt the alcohol burn as it traveled from your throat to your stomach, warming you up inside and providing a momentary distraction. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to die on a ship with a fucking unicorn as it’s figurehead,” Izzy uttered in disbelief. 

“I like that it’s a unicorn”, you replied sweetly. 

“Why? Because it’s pretty?” Izzy replied, his tone condescending. 

Disregarding his comment, you continued speaking. “It was just my mom and me growing up, and she always told me stories about unicorns,” you said, your gaze fixed on the figurehead. “There’s a legend that their horns can purify poisoned water. I like the idea that even something that’s been poisoned can undergo transformation with the touch of the right creature.” You paused for a second, anticipating a sarcastic comment from the first mate. However, when he remained silent, you continued. 

“They’re often described in myths as proud, fiercely independent, and powerful creatures,” you smiled, recognizing that you were also describing the man sitting next to you. “I used to tell my mom that one day I was going to catch one. But, I’ve come to realize that maybe creatures like that are meant to be admired from afar. Being able to witness their beauty is enough.” 

You turned toward Izzy to discover him gazing at you, as if attempting to unravel a mystery. Taking one final sip from the bottle of rum, you handed it back to him. “Unicorns are also really pretty,” you said as you offered a teasing smile. Izzy returned your smile, the warmth in his eyes devoid of any smugness, as if sharing a genuine moment of connection. 

A moment of silence lingered before you spoke again. “If I ask you a question, Izzy, do you promise not to stab me?” 

“Depends on the question. Ask at your own risk.” Izzy responded with a wry smile. 

“Why are you still sailing with Blackbeard? I know he’s a legend, but it seems like he takes great pleasure in tormenting you,” you asked hesitantly. 

You observed Izzy take a deep breath before responding. “Edward and I built a legacy together. He’s brilliant and one of the best sailors I’ve ever met. It’s my duty as first mate to watch out for him. I owe him that. That’s why I’ve stayed by his side for so long, despite his recent descent into insanity.” 

“It’s just that you’re always looking out for Blackbeard and the rest of the crew, but who’s looking out for you?” you said, peering into his eyes. 

He locked eyes with you and whispered, “I don’t need anyone taking care of me.” 

"I think you do." you said leaning in closer, your voice gentle yet firm. 

Izzy fixed his gaze on you, as if deep in contemplation. 

A strand of hair danced across your face with the wind. Izzy delicately used his fingers to tuck it behind your ear, resting his thumb against your face. You leaned into his touch, and as you did, you noticed his eyes look down towards your lips. He refocused his gaze on yours, and you inched closer, your eyes now dropping to his lips. In an instant, Izzy’s lips met yours. 

Izzy’s kiss was slow and tender. His lips, soft and tasting of the lingering rum you both had shared. Time seemed to pause as you lost yourself in the moment, feeling the warmth of his touch. The kiss deepened, evolving into a desperate exchange, as if you both had been waiting an eternity to be enveloped in each other’s embrace. Izzy, with an urgency, pulled you onto his lap, your knees resting on either side of his extended legs. His hands firmly grabbing your waist, drawing you in even closer. Your arms found their way around his neck, and your hands rested entangled in Izzy’s hair.

“Izzy! Where are you?” Blackbeard’s voice echoed across the ship. “We need to be a lighthouse!” he yelled. 

Izzy abruptly halted the kiss upon hearing his captain’s voice. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes briefly. With a reluctant sigh, he gently moved you off his lap and stood up, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders. As he walked back towards the deck a mixture of frustration and resignation played across his features. 

“Fuck!” you whispered, frustration echoing in your voice as you laid back on the deck where Izzy had left you. With a sigh, you covered your face with your hands, trying to process the abrupt interruption. The cool wood beneath you provided a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered from your stolen moment with the first mate. 

Upon returning to the deck, Izzy was nowhere to be found, and a mirror was being hoisted onto the top of the mast. The rest of the crew stood towards the edge of the ship, staring out into the ocean. You squeezed your way in between Ivan and Fang, purposefully avoiding eye contact with them. You zoned out for a while, but the world snapped back into focus as you were enveloped in a hug by Fang and Ivan. “It worked,” Ivan whispered with excitement. 

As the chaos gradually died down, you decided to look for Izzy and guessed he was hiding in his cabin. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

In his cabin, Izzy moved with a sense of urgency, hastily stuffing his belongings into bags. The decision was made - he couldn’t stay on this ship any longer. He had given Blackbeard his resignation along with his two middle fingers and called him a twat. If he had a choice on who to spend his last night on earth with, Izzy would have undoubtedly chosen Ed. However, Edward had opted for Stede Fucking Bonnet, adding an extra layer of frustration to the already complex emotions Izzy was grappling with. He loved Edward, but he hated whoever this man was, posing as him. 

The kiss Izzy shared with you weighed heavily on his conscience. It was a moment of weakness, a brief escape from the looming threat of death.  He had allowed himself something soft and nice that he didn’t deserve. Deep down, Izzy felt undeserving of any affection from you. In his eyes, no one on this ship deserved you, especially not a group of pirates. He hated that you were a pirate. You were too pure for that. You had a sweetness like no one else he had ever met. He wanted to taste it when he thought there would be no consequences. The fact that life would continue complicated things. 

Izzy was well aware that the kiss meant nothing to you. He understood that people sought comfort in moments of impending death, trying to ease the overwhelming fear of the end. 

Izzy’s thoughts were abruptly halted by the sound of a knock on his cabin door. 

“Izzy?” your voice called out, causing an unexpected tightness in his chest. “Can we talk?” 

Izzy wordlessly swung the door open to welcome you in, but deliberately avoided meeting your eyes. He remained focused on the task of packing his belongings. 

“Where are you going, Izzy?” you inquired, your voice carrying a quiet concern that echoed in the confined space of the cabin. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning. There are things I did and said tonight that I regret,” Izzy confessed, his words hanging in the air. 

Had Izzy been observing you, he would have noticed the profound pain etched across your features in response to those words. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened between us, Izzy,” you assured, your voice carrying a tone of sincerity. 

“It’s more than just about you,” Izzy responded. 

“Why did you kiss me?” you asked, seeking some answers from Izzy. 

“Oh, fuck off. It’s the same reason you kissed me back. A distraction. Nothing more,” Izzy retorted, dismissing the question. 

“Got it,” you replied in a hushed tone, walking away from his cabin. 

When Izzy finally looked up, he realized you were no longer there. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

You briskly walked away from the first mate’s cabin, making your way to the familiar spot on the stairs. It was there that the first tear escaped, followed by a cascade of emotions that manifested in silent sobs. Hastily, you brushed the tears away, determined not to attract any unwanted attention. You settled into a quiet moment, resting your head on your knees, listening to the rhythmic sound of waves caressing the side of the ship. 

“Hey, friend,” a gentle voice reached out to you as a hand softly nuzzled your hair. 

You glanced up to discover fang standing before you, with a sheepish look on his face. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he inquired. 

You responded with a subtle shake of your head, maintaining silence. Returning your forehead to your knees, you sense Fang settling on the stair beside you, his hand gently rubbing your back in a soothing rhythm. He stayed next to you for quite a while. 

A large part of you dreaded Izzy’s departure, but a small part of you wondered if distance would be the best thing for him. You had a feeling Edward wasn't finished with Stede Bonnet yet, and you knew Izzy would likely continue getting hurt. 

As your thoughts continued to race, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you decided to just stay on deck watching the waves. With the first rays of dawn, you witnessed Izzy assembling his dinghy, ready to part ways. Edward hopped down from the mast, engaging in a conversation with his first mate. You were too far away to hear what they were saying. 

The exchange concluded with Izzy calling out to Edward, a fond smile gracing his face. “You still got it,” he remarked, loud enough for you to catch. 

"I know.", Edward replied before turning towards you. In that fleeting moment, you detected a subtle change in his demeanor - a fleeting hardness in his eyes as he thought he was unobserved. His attention, however, quickly shifted to you as he approached. 

"He's staying around, little mouse. Don't you worry.", Edward assured, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he ascended the stairs towards the ship’s helm. 

Forcing a smile in response, you felt a pang of sadness within you. Edward, consumed by his own thoughts, didn’t register your expression. The familiar look on Izzy’s face as he watched Blackbeard walk away told a story you knew too well. He was always going to choose Edward. While you couldn’t blame Izzy for succumbing once again to Edward’s persuasive nature, it didn’t make the situation any less heartbreaking. The legendary Blackbeard was a force that you, with all your sincerity and affection, could never rival. Edward would remain an anchor for Izzy, his heart forever tethered to him.

{Next Chapter}