#fisherman's stew | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

persefolli · 1 year ago

Note

about the tonowari x reader x ronal thing:

their wife/spouse is someone who doesn't really have a big role like them, like a fisherman or a farmer, and just gets giddy when they or the kids want to help/join her.

bonus if the Sully's meet her and is like, "so... what are you?" and her family gets low-key offended and pissed, lol.

just a thought

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap, @ms5m1th, @18lkpeters, @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @jakesullyscocksleeve, @neteyamyawne, @fanboyluvr, @myheartfollower, @letsloveimagines, @xylianasblog, @papichulo120627

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭!

“Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice in the distance. You looked up from the field and saw Tsireya running over, holding her satchel.

“Hello Reya. What brings you to this side of the reef?”

She groans and sets her bag near your mauri pod, “Mother said you haven’t met the Sully’s yet and it's been two weeks.”

“Ah..I mean-”

“She wants you to come to dinner.”

You smiled and tilted your head. Reya shared the same expression. The both of you knew when Ronal “wanted” something, there was no choice, no way out. You weren’t getting out of this dinner.

“I decided to come and help you make a grand impression. You can make our favorite dish. That is if you have some ovumshroom growing.”

“Oh I always have some in the chamber. Go grab the hoe.” You waved Tsireya to the small makeshift pod..or shed you had specifically for farming tools.

You smiled brightly watching Tsireya get to work, picking at the ground to see if she can find any fresh ovumshroom to pick out. While she did that, you went to sprinkling fertilizer over the newest crops you planted earlier that day.

Farming always brought you a sense of joy. It was calming, especially being away from the hustle and bustle of the village. Ronal and Tonowari insisted you move to that side of the reef, just so you could be closer to the family, but you insisted on staying where you were. The sun hit this part of the reef better and the soil was much more suited for planting and curating the plants you worked with.

After a while, you retreated back into your marui pod, where Tsireya was already sitting, peeling the shroom and humming to herself.

“Make sure to save the stubs. I can-”

“Replant them. I know.” She giggled and you ruffled her hair a bit.

You moved to clean yourself up, putting on the nice clothing Ronal and Tonowari gifted you for nights like this. Ronal would throw a fit if you walked in wearing your farming clothes, but you would do anything to appease your lover.

A knock at the entrance caused you and Tsireya to look up. It was Ao’nung.

“I’m not too late am I?”

Tsireya threw a shroom stub at him and giggled.

“Not at all,” You said. “You might wanna start boiling some water.

The teens worked happily in your kitchen as you tidied a bit. It warmed your heart to know that kids, especially of their age still enjoyed the simplicity of farming and cooking. Tsireya opened up to you once about how it was a nice way to get away from the training and practices of being the princess.

Ao’nung was less vocal about his enjoyment, but he kept coming around so that was a plus.

The three of you worked until sunset, creating an ovumshroom stew with fish and porridge, one of your favorites.

“Now who's gonna help me carry this across the reef?” You said playfully. Tsireya walked up but was pushed back by her brother.

“Let the future Olo’eyktan handle this.”

“Hey! Dad said I still have a good chance.” Tsireya rebutted.

“We’ll see about that.”

---

After a long walk, the three of you finally arrived at their home. Ronal had a scowl on her face, and you smiled awkwardly. “I brought food.”

“At least you didn’t come empty handed.” She huffed.

“I came as fast as I could.” You said lowly, realizing the Sully family was already inside the pod.

Ronal went back to announce the food was ready, and the navi began pouring in. You poured the porridge into their bowls as they stood in a line, chatting and smiling brightly at the warm meal. When it was Neytiri’s turn, she held her hand up before you could fill her bowl.

“I can pour it myself, thanks.”

“Oh there’s no need, I insist.’ You politely said, holding up the spoon.

“I rather not…have someone like you pouring my food.”

“Someone like me?”

The room fell silent at your high-pitched voice that radiated from shock.

Ronal was standing not too far from the two of you with a nasty glare on her face. Tonowari also had a look of disapproval displayed across her face.

“In the forest we don’t have servants.”

Ronal hissed, and Tonowari stood, walking over to stand close to his wife.

“She is no servant.” Ronal said harshly.

“That's Y/n. Mom and Dad’s girlfriend.” Ao’nung said a little unphased from the situation.

Everyone watched as Neytiri's face changed, going into shock. She fell silent, and a thick draft blew through the pod. She nervously giggled before nodding.

“Enlighten me Ms. Sully. What about Y/n made you think she was-”

“It’s fine Ronal.” You chimed in, trying to deescalate the situation. In Neytiri’s defense you were wearing less formal clothing and you were serving the food. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together.

“I apologize.” Neytiri said.

“It was an honest mistake.”

“Mistake my foot.” Ronal mumbled,

Tonowari placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and nodded, giving everyone the non-verbal signal that we could all move on from the mistake.

The pod was still quiet by the time you sat to eat, everyone, even the kids, scared to break the tension that floated in the air. You looked around to see if anyone would perk up, but everyone was either focused on their food or frowning.

You made eye contact with Jake, and you can tell he was about to take his chance with damage control.

“Would it be rude to ask how this came to be?”

You smiled and chuckled. “Well Ronal initiated everything. IIf she wants something she won't stop until she has it.”

Tonowari looked over at Ronal who had a bit of a flushed expression on her face. “Well Ronal here saw Y/n dancing around the bonfire, and went to join in. This was when the kids were…Tuk’s age, maybe younger.” Tonowari started. “After that night we wanted to meet with her more, but we didn’t see her around the village. Ronal tried convincing me for weeks that she was indeed Metkayina and not from some other clan.”

“I found her playing with rakes on the other end of the reef.” Ronal said.

“I was plowing the sand, not playing with rakes.”

“Same difference.” Ronal sighed. “I saw her..thought she would make a great addition.”

“Whatever makes Ronal happy. I told myself.” Tonowari smiled. “But… Y/n makes me happy too.”

After an eye roll from Ronal everyone in the pod laughed, dissipating the once tense room.

Once dinner ended, and the Sully’s retired to their own pod, you stayed behind to help clean the mess that was left behind. You noticed Ronal washing the dishes intensely, so you walked over and leaned to look at her.

“Ronal.”

“That Neytiri woman. I don't like her.” She said scrubbing the dish.

“It was an honest mist-”

“I allow her to seek Uturu and she comes to my home and disrespects me, you- us!” She stammers.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to face you. “Ronal….it's fine. Listen, I'm not offended. We're from two different worlds, I've accepted I may not be treated with respect like you and Wari.”

“But you should be!” She says sternly.

“Ronal.” You placed a kiss on her cheek. “As long as I am with you two I am just fine. I don't care what people say about me, or how they treat me, because you and Wari are the only two people whose opinion matters.”

Ronal looked at you before sighing and nodding, giving in, like she always did. Tonowari walked over and smiled at the sight of you two embracing.

“And you,” Ronal turned to her husband. “You did not defend me.”

“Sweetheart you did a better job than I could’ve. And I would rather not get into women's business.”

Ronal stood quiet before nodding. “You have a point.”

#tonowari x reader #ronal x reader #tonowari x reader x ronal #tonowari x ronal #tonowari fluff #ronal fluff #avatar2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #wattpad #persefolli #persefolliwrites

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

Text

Lighthouse - Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader - Mini Series

Summary: You work as a lone Lighthouse keeper on a small island just off the coast. Everyday was the same routine, tending to your duties and the lamp with not much time to spare. But what will happen to your routine when a storm rages across the sea, and a handsome man washes ashore?

Warnings: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. Warnings will be added in their relevance. She/Her Pronouns. Slow burn, pining, kiss.

Note: EEEE! Here is chapter two of my little mini-series! Thank you all so much for your patience for this update, to say it has been hard has been an understatement. An odd thing to put into the notes of a fanfic, but From the River, to the Sea. 🇵🇸

Chapter 2: Unfamiliar Changes

The next few days were the same routine as usual, but with a new addition; A man who had been at deaths door, recovering in your bed.

The lighthouse, you knew.

You knew the way to light it, tend to it, care for it. It had been your life for many years ever since your Pa had died, leaving its responsibilities to you.

It had been him who taught you everything. He who had raised you to know what you now do, to do as you now do each day. And you were thankful. Thankful to not be married to a Fishermans son, or market boy at a young age, to squeeze out child, after child, in a marriage that had no love or care but rather a societal duty.

But now, there was a man in your home.

A man on your small, little, isolated island which you sought refuge in. An island and isolation that had been all you had known, and yet now, here he was, laid in your bed with hair like spun silk that lay around his head, a violet eye you had only heard in the tales on shore, a scarred cheek and sharp mouth.

Was he a pirate?

You had heard of those, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to be as brash and roguish as those stories either. And whilst his presence was not all begrudged, it did throw your small little world into a loop. So with the duties of old, came the duties of new.

You would rest, only shortly, wake, and tend to the lamp, the storm slowly moving away inland, but the winds too high to take your small boat alone, or send your pigeon with a letter to alert them of the wreck and lone survivor.

Thereafter, you could come back inside, fix yourself a tea, and here began the new routine; you would make two instead of one.

Two plates or bowls of food.

Two cups or glasses of water, or tea.

Two of everything.

One for you.

And one for the man.

A man who still had not told you his name.

That was until that evening.

The winds had begun to yield, but the soft grumbling of thunder still prevailed in the near distance.

You were eating the last of your stew together, though this time, he was seated at the table. You having dragged the only other chair on the island down the many stairs of the lighthouse to the cottage.

He was still rather pale, and wheezed and coughed on occasion, but after his many days in your presence, you realised that he was not pale because of his ailment, but rather, his skin was just as white as the porcelain William’s wife owned. His cheeks however, gained some colour, and his lips were no longer cracked and dry, but now hydrated.

And plump.

And soft.

And-

“-Aemond.”

The spoon you were holding clinked back onto the side of the bowl.

“Pardon?”

“My name,” The man put another spoonful of stew into his mouth, chewing before swallowing politely, “Is Aemond.”

You tested the name on your tongue. It was definitely not a common name from around your part of the world.

“I take it you are a long way from home?” You chewed on a chunk of potato, watching as the man nodded.

“Aye.”

“Your ship-“

“-Vhagar.” So that’s what its name was, “Sunk to the bottom of the sea, I presume.” His lips pulled down at the sides.

You nodded solemnly, “Was your family-“

“-No. No family. Just me and my crew.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly before nodding, “I’m sorry. Though we have the Gods to thank. They favoured you when they washed you ashore.”

Aemond, the man before you, scoffed, “Favoured. Sunk my ship and my men. Drowned me.”

You sucked your teeth, feeling slightly guilty about your choice of words, “Yes, and yet you are here. I prayed-“

“-You prayed?”

A nod, though his gaze seemed more intrigued than mocking, “To the Drowned God. Prayed to anyone who would listen to spare your life.”

You watched as the corner of his lip twitched, “And why should a Lady such as you, pray for a sailor such as me?”

“I’d hardly like to deal with a corpse on my beach." You stirred your stew, "And I am no Lady, I have told you this.”

The snort from his nose made way into a smile that was contagious.

At least you could be blunt.

And in some ways, you supposed that he liked this bluntness.

You shared your meal together quietly, the crackling of the fire and sound of rain and occasional thunder outside. You found, much to your displeasure, that you did not mind having his company after all.

He did not talk to fill the space, and seemed to think deeply before he spoke, at least when he was not irritated or slightly offended by your own remarks. All in all, he was a welcomed presence in your modest home.

And that was what scared you.

“Do you often have drowned men wash ashore?” His spoon was delicately placed in his bowl, bread devoured shortly after given to him. The way in which he ate, the manner in which he sat back, rod stiff, indicated to you that he came from some form of high society, far higher than you, and likely came from money and wealth that you could do naught but try to imagine.

You smiled coyly, “You’re the first. An achievement to some end, I am sure.”

The corner of his lips pulled again, yet this time, it developed into a full smirk, “Then I am honoured to have been the first, Miss.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you had to look away.

The way in which he spoke, the way his voice became deep and smooth like the whiskey in your cupboard, had sent shivers down your spine with the implication that perhaps there was a double meaning to what he said.

To what you had said.

But then he continued, “And how does a woman of your stature become the keeper of this Lighthouse?”

“My Pa. He was the keeper before I. Taught me all there was to know. It was just me and him on this island for a long, long time, and now it is just me.”

“Is your father-“

“-Dead.”

“I see.” Aemond nodded, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” You gave him a small smile, “He died doing what he loved.”

A silver eyebrow raised above the man’s seeing eye, “And what was that?”

“Drinking on the job.” You poked your tongue in your cheek to stifle the laugh as you watched Aemond’s composure become flustered, “It’s okay,” You reassured him, “You can laugh. My father was not a solemn man. I like to think he enjoys my humour.”

A hum was all you received, though he did not smile as you had hoped.

You had not fully seen him do so yet, and although there was glimmers of a more playful and relaxed man, you wondered in that moment if perhaps he was simply just a rather stern and serious sailor after all. That his nature was to be stiff, and bold, and unbendable.

And if he was to be that, a small flicker inside of you wished to make him bend.

Gods, what was wrong with you?

Had you grown so lonesome in your isolation that the first man to wash upon your shore, literally, was whom you would grow some sort of desire for?

Sure, you were no stranger to pleasure, chasing your own peaks with your hands as often as you’d like, of course, if it did not endeavour to endanger the care of the lighthouse. And now, that a man was sat before you, kept in the confines of your home by storm and ailment, you wished to taste what it truly meant to be pleased.

It had of course crossed your mind once or twice on your rare travels to shore. Speaking to the locals in shops or on the street, friends of William, or any decent man who cast you a glance. You had thought about it seriously, allowing some sort of dalliance to form, to warm a mans bed and then leave on the morrow to go back to your life of solitude.

In fact, it had almost happened.

A sailor named Dalton Greyjoy had caught your eye on the occasions he would be on shore at the same time as when you were. He was sailor from a well known, and well to do family. He came and went as he pleased, and it was no secret that he liked his women. Dalton's hair came below his ear, curling slightly atop his head, the colour as black as night and with his eyes to match his hair; a piercing, deep black which captured and lured anyone who caught his gaze.

And you had caught his, on more than one occasion, and each time, he had tried to woo you. Tried to offer a trip on his sturdy ship which carried more than one hundred men. Or a tour of his home which lay on bountiful lands on shore.

He had even offered a drink in the local tavern, and a meal, with a desire to speak to the ‘beautiful woman who keeps my ship from ruin’.

And you had thought on it, had almost given in, and when you had rejected him the last time, you had meant to offer him refuge on your island, should he ever so need it. If he was ever so inclined to have a tour of your own homestead, of your lighthouse which kept him from ruin.

But when you had moved to tell him thus, he was gone, back to the seas for the Gods only know how long, perhaps months, before he returned to shore. And that had been two months ago, and you had almost kicked yourself at the missed opportunity of having a man warm your bed, and then leave.

The convenience was lost.

You were under no impression that it would be anything more than a release for the two of you, and in your eyes, it was perhaps, a perfect arrangement. Yet, you had strung him for too long, and the seas had called him once more.

You had thought to wait to look for his ships arrival as it passed from you to shore, and lowered its anchor within eyesight. You had thought that perhaps at the sight of it, you would send your pigeon to her, the large ship, or to shore to send word of your request of his presence. But then, you thought, perhaps you would make a quick stop to the markets, weather permitting, and keep your eyes widened for the dark black hair which you sought.

But now, as the man you had come to know as Aemond, grew stronger with each day, the desire to meet your desires with Dalton faded, and were now replaced for the desire of a man who was the stark opposite.

No black hair, only silver. No black eyes, only lilac.

Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

Would he hold you passionately? Whisper in your ear? Give you pleasure that you had only read of?

This was what you thought of, thighs clenching as you pulled the old wick from the lamp to replace it with a new one, careful to not spill any oil around the lamps enclosure or yourself. You were exhausted as you lit the flame, night crawling towards you rapidly.

There was not much rest that you could get when sleeping on the worn down lounge of your home, mind reeling at the thought of the handsome man not too far from you in the warmth and plush of your bed.

Once you were positive the lamp was fine and well lit, you trudged down the stairs, eyes struggling to stay open as you made your way back to the cottage, the wind blowing your hair roughly as you closed the door behind you.

The fatigue dragged you down, limbs feeling as heavy as stone as you moved to make yourself some tea, feeling all the more exhausted than before, eyes half shut.

Once your tea was made, you sat on the couch and stared at the fire, blowing the steam away and sipping on it to warm your chilled bones. The lighthouse was cold inside, no warmth but the lamp, and despite wearing your warm layers, the cold still nipped you to your core.

There were no thoughts as you moved half asleep around your home, pulling the heavy waxed coat from your shoulders to place on the hook by the door.

Your boots came next, and then your socks, and finally you pulled away at your dress, untying your stays as it slid down your hips to the floor.

You trudged to your room, having extinguished the lamps and candles in the cottage, leaving the fireplace to burn through what was left of the night.

It was dark as you pulled back the sheets, mind in memory and eyes already shut, as you slid into bed in only your slip, pulling the sheets up to your neck as you lay on your side.

Then sleep came just as quickly as your eyes closed.

It was hot.

Too hot.

There was a warmth that radiated around you as you slowly rose to consciousness.

Then, came the weight.

A weight of something wrapped around you, behind you, heat seeping into your spine. You blinked sluggishly, confused as to what it was as you shifted, feeling whatever that warmth was shifting with you. Solid.

Arms.

Two arms.

One under your head, the other draped over your middle, hand splayed across your stomach as your back was pressed into the flush of someones chest.

Not someone.

Aemond.

You jerked, suddenly awake and out of the bed, looking down at the man who looked tiredly up at you, corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he fought away a smirk. Heat rose up your neck and into your cheeks in embarrassment.

You had been in bed.

With him.

Tucked into him.

Oh Gods.

Your mouth opened and shut as your brain misfired, unsure of what to do our say.

Do you apologise?

Gods, you had been so tired you hadn’t even realised.

You were suddenly mortified at the thought of what he must now think of you.

He must-

“-If you want to get into bed with me, all you must do is ask.” Came the low timbre of Aemond, who now smirked freely at you.

Your heart raced in your chest as you became flustered, a small squeak escaping your lips.

Aemond’s eye bore into your own as you stood there, bare feet on the cold flagstones below, chest heaving as you were at a loss of words. His eye then roamed lower, taking in your appearance as you felt the heat of his gaze blanket over you.

It was then, that you realised, you were in nothing but your thin shift.

“Gods. Fuck.” You swore, turning quickly to throw on an old dress, foregoing your skirts, stay and stockings.

You kept your back to him as you hastily did up the many buttons, suddenly cursing each and every one of them as your fingers struggled to do them up the more you become flustered, all the while you could still feel his heated gaze upon you from the bed.

You uttered an embarrassed apology, too ashamed to even raise your eyes to look at him, before you fled from the cottage, forgetting your coat, and not even doing up the laces of your boots as you shut the door behind you and raced towards the lighthouse.

You had never quite climbed the steps as fast as you had in that moment, desperate to get away from his salacious gaze, and your burning embarrassment.

What had you been thinking? Climbing into bed with him like that? He must think you desperate. Depraved. Unkempt.

Gods be good.

The embarrassment made tears prickle at your eyes.

Though the lamp in the lighthouse was fine, and there was no true reason for you to monitor it, the worst of the storm having moved away, you did not return back to your cottage. You stayed in the cold, no coat and shoes half tied, shivering in the stone walls of the lighthouse to avoid the mortification of that morning. And yet, despite trying to avoid him physically, there was no possible way, you had tried, to avoid thinking of him.

Thinking of his touch, how warm he had been behind you, how his large hand had completely spanned across your middle as he held you to him, how his fingers had twitched and pulled as you wriggled in first wake. How he smelt of the sea, and sweat, the stew you had cooked him, and the smell of your own sheets, but beneath it all, there was his natural scent, something earthy and musky and like sandalwood that surrounded your every waking moment.

If it wasn’t for his legs and his near death, you would think the man was a Siren.

You thought of how cold he had been when he washed ashore, how pale and almost blue he looked, and now he burnt hot, and although he was still pale, the flush of life coloured his cheeks and lips. His lilac eye devouring you every chance he had.

At first you had thought you were mistaken, that he was simply looking at you, but now you were sure of it. His eye, the seeing one, unclouded by injury and simmering a bright lilac, watched you almost always half-lidded and ablaze with something you now thought could perhaps be lust.

Gods.

You buried your head into your hands, deeply exhaling before standing up straighter, trying to erase the images and thoughts of him from your mind, but it was hopeless. He was all you could think of, all you could smell, or see behind your eyelids, and you yearned to reach out and touch him. Hold him. Caress him.

Your thighs instinctually squeezed together and you sighed, feeling a wetness that had settled between them.

Gods be good, you were in trouble.

You shivered again, rubbing your hands together as you looked out at the sea, mentally cursing yourself for not having more than two chairs on the island, but you had never needed more than that.

Your legs ached from not having sat in the hours that had passed, and you had turned to pacing the small landing back and forth to try and keep yourself warm.

A soft clunk came from the bottom of the lighthouse.

You mustn’t have shut the door properly.

You continued your pacing, back and forth, breathing into your icy palms as you tried to warm them, mind straying to a body of warmth that you knew, if you pressed your palms against him, would warm in an instant. Your hands coming beneath his tunic to splay against his stomach, working their way-

The sound of rustling came from behind.

You spun on your heel in fright, breath caught in your throat to find Aemond behind you. Now standing straight, the man towered over you, looking down his sharp nose at your shivering form. His hair was slightly wet, stuck down to his shoulders and dripping from its ends onto the floor of the lighthouse. The tunic he wore, stuck to his skin where spatters of rain wet the material.

In his hands, your coat.

“Gods be good.” You cursed at him, hand immediately shooting out to press against his forehead, having to rise slightly on your toes to reach, “Have you gone mad? You’ll catch cold and grow ill again.”

Snatching your coat from his hands, you threw it up and around his shoulders, pulling it together tightly at the front, watching as his brows furrowed at you.

His hands caught your wrists as you fussed over him, and you immediately could no longer meet his eye. The warmth of his hands seeped into your bones, and a barely contained sigh fell from your lips.

Aemond was so close, so close to you, you could feel his warmth, smell his-

“Go back to the cottage before you become feverish again.” You tried to pull your wrists away from his hands to push him back to the door, but the man did not budge, his grip only tightened.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Came his low response, jaw tensed as he watched you.

You swallowed, looking anywhere but his eye, “No.” You lied terribly, hoping he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened at your wrist, “I have to tend to my duties.“

“-You’re a terrible liar.”

You bristled, heat rising in your cheeks again before you met his eye.

Exhaling shakily, you tried again to get him to release your wrists with no avail.

“Please let go of me, Sir.”

Aemond’s cheek twitched, before finally he let go, and you begrudged his warmth leaving you the second he did.

As his hands dropped to his sides, your eyes flitted to the exposed skin of his chest, if only for a moment, where his tunic was ripped down the middle. He moved, arms coming up again as he pulled your coat from his shoulders, stepping towards you suddenly.

You stiffened, feeling his warmth envelop you and the subtle scent of salt and sandalwood engulf you as he wrapped you in your coat, pulling it tightly against you at your front. Your arms were trapped beneath it as he kept his hold on you, the coat pulling tighter as he stepped closer.

“You’re cold.” He whispered, head ducking slightly as he looked at you, long strands of silver cascading over his shoulder.

Okay. You were sure of it.

Perhaps he was a Siren.

And now he was going to drag you to the sea and-

You watched in a confusion, or horror and delight as his head began to dip down towards your face, eye watching you intently as you held your breath.

Oh Gods, was this really happening? Was this man-

“Sīr gevie.” Came a deep purr from the back of his throat, and there it was again, that half lidded gaze.

You parted your lips instinctually, feeling his nose brush against yours, your eyes fluttering as you looked down to his lips which were parted a hairsbreadth away from you, “I don’t know what that means.” You whispered, feeling his breath fan across your lips warmly.

“Beautiful.” Came his response, less purring than the last, more of a whisper, more delicate, like the silk that spun his hair, ready to break.

His face loomed closer, the tip of his pink tongue coming to wet his lips, and all you could think of was how you wished to close the distance, to press against him, taste him, have him.

Your lungs ached from the breath you had been holding, and a sudden gust of wind knocked at the windows of the lighthouse. It seemed to have broken the spell, jerking you away from the man in front of you, who blinked longingly at you.

Swallowing thickly, trying to ignore the ache in your core, you uttered, “I need to prepare supper.” Before you dashed away from him and down the stairs, almost tripping over your half laced boots in the process.

As you wound down the stairs, you felt a pang of guilt leaving him up there.

Would he be fine to get down himself?

What if he grew ill? It was cold, and he had no coat, and you had just-No. If he had made his way up those stairs, then he could surely make his way down them.

You wasted no time preparing dinner, darting about the kitchen noisily as you began to prepare your meal, cutting the vegetables on the chopping board, and moving for some more dried meats to add with it, soaking it in some bone powdered broth you had made days earlier.

When the door of the cottage opened, and then clicked shut, you ignored the mans arrival, keeping your back to him, pretending that you were all too busy preparing the dinner to spare him a second glance, and not only that, you were far too engrossed of thinking what was coming next, and not at all how his lips might have felt on yours.

You heard him settle at the table by the fire, and without looking, cast your voice behind you, “I still have my fathers belongings,” You told him, voice shy, “Seemed a waste to be rid of them when he passed. You may fit them. I’ll let you look through the trunk after supper so that you may have some cleaner, warmer clothes.”

A hum, and then, “Thank you. You are a gracious host.”

You blushed at his compliment, thankful that your back was turned to him so that he would not see you shy once more. Once your meal was cooked, you brought it over to the table for the two of you, including a plate of some of your scones, as well as the jam from Celia to go with them after.

It was a mostly silent affair, a tension strung between the two of you, pulled taught as the minutes went by. That was until-

“You are not married.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of fact.

You blinked, taking your eyes away from your meal as you looked up at him.

He was already watching you.

But there was nothing malicious about his statement, more so curious as to why.

Aemond continued, “You are a beautiful young woman, a shame that you are not out in society.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling vulnerable at the turn of conversation.

You knew it was unheard of a woman of your age to be unwed, and not only that, alone in a usual mans position. You knew that the townsfolk at shore talked about it, whispers behind your back at why that was.

There had been a cruel rumour once that you simply enjoyed the coming and goings of the many different sailors who came to and from the port. It didn’t help that Dalton was not quiet about his interest in pursuing you, at least, not as his wife anyway.

“I am content where I am.” You sighed, “I have no desire to be flaunted on a mans arm as merely decoration. I have a responsibility to those on shore and on sea, and I doubt any man in town would know more about the mechanisms of working such a lamp than I do. They would be more of a burden than a blessing.”

Aemond blinked before lifting another steaming spoonful of food to his lips, “And do you not grow lonely on this little island?”

Did you?

You didn’t think you did.

At least, not until he arrived on your shore.

“Not at all.” And unconvincing lie, or perhaps not a full one, “William comes to bring my reprieve, and I go to and from shore as I wish for the whims of societal company.”

The man swallowed his mouthful of food, head cocked as he looked at you, “William?”

“An old friend of my fathers.” You explained, watching as he relaxed at the explanation, “Brings food and goods to me when I cannot get them my own, which is more often than not. His wife and daughters join him here on occasion.”

Aemond hummed, “It is a shame you have no feelings of loneliness.”

“A shame?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “I thought you might have enjoyed my company.” Before you could respond, he spoke again, “Though, perhaps it is not a shame after all. There is no husband that I need worry about.”

Heat rose into your cheeks fast, and a flush of hurt crept up your throat.

Of course he would make a comment about you being unwed.

He was just like the others in town.

“You mock me.” You grit angrily, hands twitching on the table.

You watched as a flash of regret creeped over his face.

“I don’t.” His tongue darted out to lick at his lips again, the hungry look in his eye not at all for the food on his plate, “I would worry that my attempt to court you would be burdened by a disgruntled husband.”

Court you.

Court.

Your stomach turned tightly, and you found yourself pushing your chair behind you quickly as you stood, grabbing your empty plate as you moved to take it to the kitchen, unsure of what to say, mouth dry and mind reeling.

As soon as your back turned, you heard a deep chuckle behind you, making your cheeks flush with heat once more. You did not even bother to clean your plate, instead dumping it into the dry sink before you snatched your coat off of the coat hook and moved to open the door.

“You cannot avoid me forever.” Came his low purr, and would if you tried.

The door thumped behind you as you swept yourself outside.

By the time you finally returned to the cottage, the night had flown away from you, having spent the majority of it trying to cool the heat in your body that he had stoked, resting your cheeks against the cool class of the lighthouse, anything to soothe the molten blood that coursed through you.

The storm had mostly passed, and your home was quiet as you snuck back inside, darkness filling the majority of the space bar the fireplace as you pulled your coat from your shoulders, back facing the room.

When you turned to walk further inside a small gasp pulled into your lungs.

“You’re awake.” You blinked at Aemond owlishly, watching as he leant back on the small worn couch, his long limbs stretched out in front of him by the fire, with one arm resting against the back.

“I am.” You shifted on your feet, unsure of what to do or say.

Damn your anxious mind, reeling in circles at the thought of him, and his desires and if he desired you as much as you desired him. And what if-

You shook the thought away, “Well, you must be tired. You need to rest so that you may go home. The storm is passing, and I’d wager that you could return to shore now.” You wrung your hands together.

You didn’t want him to go, but you knew it was logical.

He would have to leave. He would have to go home. To his family. To his friends. To his land. And then, you would be left alone with the spiralling 'what if's' of his stay.

“You speak of fatigue as if you sleep more than I, and do less.” Came his pointed remark, “I am well aware of my need to recover, and my abilities.”

Speechless.

That was what you were.

The fire crackled loudly between you as you watched him shift, moving to lay himself down onto the couch which was comically too small for him. His long legs stretched over the arm, feet dangling almost to the floor whilst his head was tucked at an awful angle on the opposite arm.

He looked like a doll that had been carelessly tossed onto the couch by a child.

“You need rest.” He mused, eye roaming over your body shamelessly, “I shall sleep where I am.”

Your brows furrowed, “You can’t suggest that you wish to sleep there.” Your hand pointed to where he was uncomfortably lain, “You do not fit. You shall see no rest and I will have to nurse you to health once more.”

“All the more reason for me to stay here.” His eye slid shut, seeming to make a point of sleeping on your lumpy and aged lounge.

You guffawed at him and his brazen flirting, mouth hanging open as your hands moved to your hips, “Go back to bed.”

His brow lifted, but his eye stayed shut, “A command or request?”

You blinked, “A request, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Will you be joining me?” Came his purr, eye cracked open at you, the bright lilac having turned as stormy as the sea once had been.

“No.”

Another hum, something you had grown used to by now, his eye sliding shut, “Then I shall stay put.”

You stormed towards him, looking down at him, trying to not notice how soft his hair looked, or how the pale skin of his chest looked like a cozy place to-

“Really, Sir.” You sighed, exacerbated, “I must implore you to sleep in the bed tonight. You will only hurt your neck and back. I am far smaller than you, and-“

“-Sīr byka.”

The language was smooth, the r curling in the front of his teeth, all creamy, and soft like syrup and warm. It sent heat straight into your core.

“What does that mean?”

His eye opened again as he sat up, “Would you like to know?”

Gods, he was infuriating.

“Yes.” You grit out, “Or else I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I said you were little.”

Embarrassment curled in your chest, but not only that, something else that sent heat striking through you.

You tried to blink it away, “An obvious observation. And the bed would fit you perfectly well, if only-“

“-Nyke kessa mazverdagon ziry-“

“-Would you stop that?” You snipped, chest heaving as you blushed, watching as the tall man pulled his legs down and sat up, looking at you predatorily.

You were in trouble.

Every hair on your body stood up as he watched you beneath his lashes.

“Stop what?”

You wet your lips, “T-that.”

“What, byka ōños?”

“That!” You pointed, running a hand through your hair, “You- You make a mockery of me.”

His head tilted, “I do no such thing.”

“You do.” You countered, looking anywhere but him, “You speak in tongues that I do not understand. For all I know, you could be throwing insult at my person. I know that I am not as educated as you-”

“-Do you want to know what it means? You only need ask.”

“What does it mean?” You breathed, watching as he stood from the couch, sucking all the air from the room as his head slowly came up to your height, then finally looming over you down his nose.

“What does ‘what’ mean?”

“Fine." You huffed, "You shall stay on the couch, and I shall send word tomorrow-“

“-Little light.”

You lashes fluttered against your cheeks as you felt him step closer to you, your chest heaving as one of his hands reached out to caress a lock of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as his fingertips grazed a path down your neck, his eye intent on you.

“W-what?”

“Byka ōños,” Aemond purred, “It means ‘little light’.” He took a step closer to you, his chest brushing against yours, warmth immediately seeping into your dress as you craned your head to look up at him, "Byka perzys.”

“And what does that mean?” Your voice was quiet, unsure, the air around you crackling with the tension that had been building for days.

“Little flame.” He translated, large palm moving behind your neck as he gripped the back of it softly, fingers tangling in your hair. Your breath hitched as he moved forward, his eye on your lips, yours on his.

“Byka jelevre.”

“What does t-“

Aemond’s lips crashed into yours hungrily, silencing your question. You squeaked, eyes widening before they slowly slid shut, hands coming to the front of his tunic as you fisted them tightly, rising on your tip toes to meet him. His kiss melted you, a fire being stoked in your gut steadily as the fingers in your hair tightened.

Then as sudden as it came, it stopped.

You were both panting, looking at one another as his tongue wet his lips.

“Fuck.” He growled, before crashing into you again, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as you sighed into his embrace.

His other hand wrapped around your waist pulling you tightly against him as his tongue licked at your bottom lip. It was unfamiliar, uncertain, and your lips parted in a small gasp, immediately feeling his tongue lick tentatively at your mouth.

You were still, frozen as you thought of what to do as the hand on your waist moved to pull at your skirts hastily, dragging them up your legs.

And then, it was as though the fog was cleared, and your mind re-emerged. You pulled back with a gasp, hand gripping the wrist that was pulling at your skirts, your eyes searching his face with uncertainty.

And then, slowly, it dawned on him, realisation washing over his features.

“You’re untouched?” Came his quiet breath.

You swallowed, shutting your eyes to avoid his prying gaze, too afraid of his next reaction as you answered him.

“Yes.”

The warmth of his body left yours, and you almost subconsciously followed it, eyes reopening.

He looked at you with a new expression you could not quite understand.

Your chest ached to be held again, to feel his want and his hands pressed against your body. To feel his chest against yours, his lips on your own, his tongue teasing yours as you sighed into it. You wished to feel the calluses of his hands, and smell the salt and sandalwood that lingered around him.

You felt stupid for having told him, for having stopped him. You wished you hadn’t. You wished you had just let him have his way-

“-Apologies, Miss. I did not mean to overstep.”

Any thought that you had vanished, and you found yourself gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“I shall retire for the evening.” He took another step back, his eye not once leaving yours as he shifted his body towards your bedroom, “But if I do take your bed, I would like to earn my keep around your home as I recover.”

If this man did one more thing out of the ordinary, you thought your head may spin off your neck.

“Your keep?” You echoed, feeling the tingle in your lips from his kiss. '

Did he mean-

“-Work around the island. Cleaning, gardening. Anything that you need or want from me. I am yours.”

You felt that his last offer meant more, but you did not have the wherewithal to ask for elaboration, nor did you have the courage.

Gods, what was it about this man that turned you to syrup?

You nodded slowly, watching as relief washed over his features, “It is much appreciated, though I will be hard pressed to find things for you to do yet.” You shifted on your feet, hands wringing together once more, “I shall send word soon of your survival to shore. My pigeo-“

“-No.” Aemond said hastily, to which he recovered a moment afterwards, “No need until I am hale and healthy again. There is no point for false hopes, I may turn on the morrow.”

You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your lips, “I see no possibilities of you turning to meet the Stranger tomorrow. You-“

“-Please.” Came his voice once more, rough and quiet, and more strained than before, “Let me stay dead for a while longer.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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beebundt · 3 months ago

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guys im going to be a little cringe for a minute strap in.

made a one off unserious gorillaz oc just to play around with but the week long outage from the recent hurricane gave lots of time to stew on it & unintentionally develop it more so this is how this came to be. some context + an extra doodle under the read more!

everyone knows her by Angel/Ángel, real name is Ángelica but only her parents & aunts/uncles ever call her that & she hates it (she thinks it sounds "prissy"). she's more locally famous than anything because she made a ton of connections from her partying days (phase 1 & 2) & really helps out her community. she's one of those people who has done an absurd amount of cool, bizarre shit throughout her life & has many crazy skills but never really settled down into one thing. shes been a street racer (one of her absolute favorites & still does), tattoo artist, lifeguard, radio host, in a band for a brief time (dissolved due to infighting or infucking, rather), arctic fisherman, actor (once as main cast in an obscure horror movie, but mostly as extras), modelling, seasonal wildlands firefighter, freelance ceramics artist, skydiving instructor, lots of volunteer work + odd jobs, so on and so forth. she is currently running a bar in London right now though. Ángel has a habit of when she gets too used to something, she moves onto something else to keep things interesting, her bar is the only real consistent going in her life atm. has a passion for vehicles of all types as well, has amassed a collection of bikes and cars mainly but also loves to get her hands on planes & boats when she can. custom repairs and fixes up vintage cars/bikes in her free time as a hobby. born in LA, has traveled all over the place, but seems to be drawn back to the gloominess of London eventually even though she claims how much she hates it there (it was the first place she moved to w/ a friend when she became independent from her family so its a soft spot for her).

she first met 2d in LA while they were on tour (phase 4, humanz) and she was back visiting family and had a few brief meet ups but the band had to move on to finish out the tour, so they separated & didn't actually see each other again until several months later by chance, when Angel moved back to London in the mean time & started working at a bar there, where they started dating. it took a few months before the two actually committed to it officially, but they've been together since then. she joined him on the now now tour in full and in part of the later ones. some of the doodles above are from the song machine era during peak covid where they had to long distance

2d & Ángel did actually meet before (as seen below) but neither actually remember it because they were both plastered & high af at the time (this was during phase 1). she ended up going to a Gorillaz album celebration party but didn't know who they were, just came for the party & cheap drinks w/ a friend

i hope to make another post later abt her & more abt her background because im really having fun w/ it rn!

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

Text

Want to Go Home With You (Bring Me a Home)

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change With Future Chapters) CW: None, at least for now Tags: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Took Canon Out Back And Pulled an Old Yeller, Mer!Steve Harrington, Fisherman!Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Confused Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Wants to be Loved, Mermaids with Animal Like Instincts, Future Propositioning, Lowkey Might Involve Some Omegaverse Aspects in the Future (Not Sorry)

This is chapter one of ????. Also this takes place in Oregon because that's what I know and the idea of a merman living in an Indiana lake-beach is odd to me. So...bear with me. This is my first like actual alternate universe, completely separate from Stranger Things, so be nice.

Also, I've written Steve here as a merman who's had no contacts with humans—his English is choppy and his understanding of basic human communication is weird. If that's a turn-off for you, turn back now.

Read Part Two Here

Can also be read on AO3

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ Fishing wasn’t the ideal career to be going into after high school, but Eddie had to do something while he waited for his dreams to kickstart. Granted, going into this business was easy because his uncle owned the local bait shack. But it didn’t make the job any more appealing in the end. Not even the many beaches he had the chance to truck out to. There was Cannon Beach and Seaside’s, but he stayed close to home in Newport’s.

The beach wasn’t anything super spectacular. Sure, there were parts of it inhabited by the native seal population, some of the areas overloaded with crab shells. And it was damn near majestic during the summertime. Eddie, however, didn’t see the gist of spending time there, though. Maybe it had to do with how every single one of his work days would go, the hours spent sitting in the serene stretches of water. But nothing was intriguing or worthwhile about spending his time there.

That is, until one particular early summer day.

June isn’t a busy summer month for Eddie and his uncle. It was the right temperature, but there was still the risk of storms. Heavy duty kind of storms. Business didn’t stop, though. He woke up at 5:30am, when the sun was still acclimating to the baby blue sky, and readied himself in coveralls, thick and tall rubber boots, and a bucket hat that protected his lopsided mop of curls. His hair remained back in a bun and his skin was doused with paste-like sunscreen. In one hand he carried a red fishing rod and in the other, an old black lunchbox transformed for tackle.

He went out to the docks. To the few run down boats. And climbed aboard his uncle’s tried and true, S.S. Lenore—a tiny thing, made for up to four people, overrun with nets and crusted muddy footprints, and equipped with a singular cooler. The engine always took a few pulls to start up, jostling and crunching like food run through a garbage disposal, but it did the trick. And then he was off.

Eddie always took the chance to float out for a handful of minutes. Sometimes fifteen. Sometimes ten. Set himself up stagnant in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nobody, with no chance in hell he’ll be interrupted. Today he just needed to get a cooler full of trout. Rainbow trout, to be more exact. They’re easy fish to gut and debone, good for baking in the oven, and stuffing full of herbs for marinated fish stew. He’d gone out previously to hoist in mackerels and herrings. This was the last trip he’d need to take for a good two weeks, but he was going to do a damn great amount of work for it.

“This should be good,” he mumbles to himself, just barely breeching the edge of his boat. The ocean underneath him moves in subtle pushes, rocking him lightly against itself. Its color is bright and shining—bluer, somehow, than the last time he visited just a few days ago. He can see schools of trout idling underneath the sheen of the water. And so he rigs one of his nets, tosses it over the side of his boat, and slowly sinks it into the water.

And he waits.

It isn’t until half past when he came out that the net begins to rustle. Tugging and splashing, but it doesn’t settle the way it does when it’s some regular trout. No, this threatens to topple Eddie straight into the cold depths of the water below. To sink his boat and turn it over of all its resources.

He grips to the ropes holding the damned thing up. Pulling at it hard enough to give him the starts of burns on his soft palms. And he heaves. Groaning with it. Panting unrelenting in the face of this thing trapped inside his net. Whatever he caught is surely not some common fish for his soup, this is something more—maybe even more dangerous. And he hadn’t thought to bring anything with him to ward off danger.

There had been one time where a shark got caught. Eddie happened to have a knife on him that time. He gave in, cut the ropes on the net, and let it free—which cost him the equipment, but luckily saved his life.

This is a time where having that knife would be spectacular. But as he hefts the net, he realizes that this creature caught is no ordinary thing. It’s not a shark. Not a seal. Not a school of fish. However, through the floundering waves around him, he catches on a fish-esque glimmer. Scales of some sort shifting with the catch of light breaking through.

He wrestles with the net for a few minutes more before eventually getting a good enough grasp to tie it down. Pulling up the rest with his hands, he’s met face to…tail with this creature. It has scales—pearl white and baby pink and pastel yellows—they shine iridescent in the high rise of sunlight. The end of the tail sports two fins, both of them crescent shaped, thicker towards the base of the tail, and spindly where it faces Eddie. Before he can stop himself, he’s poking at the scales, where they taper into absence at the creature’s fins. It’s then that the creature really notices him.

In one fell motion, grand and heaving, the boat rocks. Teetering into flipping. The creature turns its head to him and…hisses. Like the guttural bubbling hiss of a harbor seal. It rocks in the net again, as it lunges towards Eddie.

Immediately, Eddie pulls his hands away and steps as far back as the boat will allow him. Granted, it’s only four feet in width, but that puts space between him and this thing. The thing that he calculates slowly with his eyes. Tail—yeah, he already knew about that. But then he rakes up to the torso of the fish like creature, where his tail is ombre with the glistening, golden skin of a nude torso.

“That—That isn’t right,” Eddie finds himself stuttering, surveying the torso once again. Sure enough, there’s skin. Dotted with moles and freckles. Dark brunette chest hair that could almost be mistaken as black. Toned arms and big, veiny hands. At the ends of this creature’s fingertips are short, curved towards the palms, white claws. Gills where its ribs are. And then Eddie goes to its head. Square-ish jaw, more freckles and moles, smile lines and baby crows feet. Thick eyebrows, triangular nose with a bridge that angles slightly to the left. Ears that threaten to point at the tops. Brunette hair that swoops to the right, falls to its collarbones, wavy and stringy with saltwater.

And its eyes.

Human eyes. Hazel, glowing honey in the sun. Long eyelashes. Drooping eyelids. Pupils that are pinpoint small, dilating with every hiss that leaves the creature’s throat.

A mermaid.

Eddie Munson is looking at a fucking mermaid.

Or…merman? It doesn’t have the seashell bra like all the mermaids he’s heard tales about, but maybe that’s just fable. He’s played all kinds of fantasy games, but he never thought what he described would be looking at him. Wild eyes and baby shark-like teeth, though without the second row. Hissing.

It struggles in the net again, lunging. Wrapping its hands on the edge of Eddie’s boat, squeezing at the metal material. The force of this merman’s grip enough to cause the edge to creak. Eddie’s stomach drops.

“Woah! Alright, okay!” He exclaims, hands up and placating. Briefly, he wonders if it has a good sense of smell and hearing. Like it can scent the excretion of his sweat even in the cold air. Or how his heart beats like the galloping of a race horse. “Easy! I ain’t—I’ve got no reason to hurt you!”

It seems to know what he’s saying, as it relaxes in the net for the first time. But it shoots him a pitiful, pleading look. Petulantly whining at him, though the sound is gargled.

Eddie wipes his sweating palms on his coveralls and takes a tentative step forward. “Easy,” he murmurs, “I’ll free you, but you have to stay calm.”

But the merman shakes its head. “No,” it croaks, “No free.”

Okay, so the guy speaks. It knows English. Even as choppy and awkward as it sounds.

“No free?” Eddie questions, “You don’t want me to free you?”

It shakes its head again. Whines, gargling again in the back of its throat. Its hands grip to the boat again, this time lugging some of its weight. As if it’s trying to…climb in.

Eddie startles back once more. “Hey, no,” he barks, “no climbing in. You can’t come onto my boat.” Though he wants to take it all back the moment he locks eyes again. If it didn’t have scales and gills, Eddie would almost think it was a sad puppy hybrid. He can almost imagine the droopy tail paired with the glistening, fearful, and pleading eyes. “Why shouldn’t I free you? My boat isn’t your home and I can’t take you back with me. You belong in the water.”

“Home,” the merman echoes, croaking. “Your home…warm?”

“Uh—“ What the fuck, he can’t help but think, exasperated. “—uh, sure. Home is warm. My, uh, home is warm. I live by the sand with my uncle, selling worms and cooking fish. The sun hits my skin every morning.” He doesn’t know why he’s answering the guy, but something in its stare, the broken words—Eddie’s allured. “Can you please answer my question? I’d like to go home. So, why shouldn’t I free you?”

The merman points a clawed finger at itself. “My home not warm. Cold.” Eddie nods along because—of course, duh, the ocean is cold. But it murmurs, “Love.” And now Eddie’s confused all over again.

“Love?”

Its voice is soft and sweet, curious. “You have love?”

Eddie shouldn’t be indulging this. He shouldn’t. But maybe the merman is a siren with how he’s drawn to answer. “I don’t have a partner, if that’s what you’re asking. But my uncle loves me. And I love him. That’s—I have love like that.”

It nods like it understands. Looks away over its shoulder, to the cold, salty water. And visibly shudders before facing Eddie again. “No love,” it says, pointing at itself again. “I no have love. No warm.” It tries to climb in again, even as Eddie’s moving to pry its hands away, but it holds tight and hisses again. “Want warm. Go with. Want to go. Go now,” it demands in a low timber.

And even as pretty as this merman is, Eddie has to refuse. He shakes his head softly. Gently, he says, “You can’t. I—I don’t know you. And…I don’t have an ocean in my house. You’ll die if you come with me.”

“Steven,” it mutters.

What? “What.”

“Know me—Steven,” it says. “Know you? Name?”

Tentatively, Eddie relaxes again. Realizes that this won’t be an end all conversation. “My name is Eddie. It’s short for Edward,” he answers, “but I like Eddie more.”

It hums, observing. “Eh-die,” it sounds out. “Eddie,” it whispers. Without warning, it trills at him. High pitched, chirping and bubbling from the back of its throat. Smiling with the sound, squinting its pretty honey eyes. Something in Eddie stirs. “Like that,” it chirps. “Short and easy. I want.”

“You want a short and easy name, too?” Eddie clarifies. It nods at him, squeaking an affirmative thing. “How about…Hm, what’s a good name for Steven?” He ponders as the merman continues to look on at him, eyes bright and curious. “How about Steve? Is that good enough for you?”

“Steve!” It crows. Trilling again, higher pitched than the last, squirming again in the net, closer and closer to heaving itself into the boat. “Easy, easy, easy,” it says at him.

Eddie can’t help but chuckle. “So…Steve, am I able to call you a he? Like…His name is Steve?”

He nods at Eddie. Wriggling again as if he can’t contain his excitement.

“Well, now I know you, huh? It’s a shame I still can’t take you to my home.”

And now Steve frowns, eyes saddening again. “But…My home is cold. You have warm,” he says solemnly.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, “but I don’t have space for you, Steve. Your home is in the water. If I take you out of the water for too long, you’ll die. You need the water.”

“I will see you again?”

Eddie shrugs. “If you see my boat again, you can visit me. How about that? And…what’s special about that, is that I can bring you things that aren’t in the ocean.”

“Man’s stuff?”

Befuddled, Eddie asks, “What are man’s stuff?”

“Stuff I see from up here. From Eddie’s home,” Steve answers. “I find and I keep and I hide. Nobody knows. Just Eddie. Eddie is nice, though. You make me happy.”

Humming, Eddie assesses Steve again. Smiles softly. “You’re nice, too, Steve. Even though you scared me earlier. But you were scared, too, huh? Caught in my stupid net.” He takes a careful step closer, standing over where Steve rests in the net still. He places a hand on one of Steve’s, tentatively, but purposefully. “But if you see my boat again, you can come visit. Maybe next time I’ll bring some fish soup? Do you eat fish?”

“Fish are tasty,” Steve says as a response.

Eddie chuckles again. “Okay, Steve. I’ll bring you fish soup. Tomorrow, though. I have to free you and go home, okay?” He reaches down for the ropes that he tied down earlier. Tugs on one of the knots and frees one side. Steve yelps.

“Promise you come back?” Steve meekly asks.

“Promise,” Eddie murmurs intensely, unraveling the last of the rope. “Look for Lenore. She’ll bring you back to me.”

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ If you'd like to be tagged in future updates, let me know. Taglist for this is open <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #mer!steve harrington #fisherman!eddie munson #hurt/comfort

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fuumiku · 9 months ago

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Selkie AU

Ok so on discord we went off. A lot of this is just paraphrasing or copy pasted from buddies hii guys. It’s honestly a fun concept to play with no matter how you turn it around~ I’ll start off with the version I drew these doodles for but it’s all under the cut because it got so long... There’s also always place for different flavors like if they realize the other’s a selkie immediately or over time, etc etc so this is all just food for thought. Marcille is always the instigator though lol, obsessed with him no matter the universe. As a selkie wants to learn more about this human and as a researcher is chasing after this secretive mysterious sea-guy while he very much tries to escape everyone’s attention.

Fisherman Chil & selkie Marcille

Old sad fisherman Chilchuck… He drinks out at sea even. Divorcee dad who’s got nothing waiting for him on land anymore. He’s on the sea every day to get fish to sell at the wet market or to the butcher, the sky and sea’s grey and everything’s dull and tedious. Seals are nothing special either. The only stuff he knows about selkies really could have some selkie storybooks he reads to his daughters. Meanwhile selkie Marcille… You could go a lot of different routes I feel. You know I feel like being a selkie fits with Marcille and her mom, with that interaction of "you’ll have to let others go and deal with that", like in this AU she’ll always be different and will have to leave people behind for the sea eventually here and there and whatnot…

Chilchuck and worksongs... Fisherman Chilchuck singing sea shanties while selkie Marcille sings her songs of the sea and then she hears him and gets curious and follows him back on land or something…… Tries to blend in with humans just so she’s like. What’s his deal. But them only meeting out at sea is very cute as well. Eventually she gets on his boat and they hang out. Melancholic psychological horror sea tragedy-romance would be fun idk. Maybe he starts hearing a woman sing out at sea randomly and thinks it’s the alcohol. But he’d be a goner already lmao. Like don’t get me wrong it’d take a while of actual interactions for him to actually fall in love, but also ~~he’s lonely~~ pretty blonde woman waaaa. Siren imagery hehe. "Hmmm I didn't know selkies had hypnotic voices as well" (they don't. he's down outrageous and he knows it.) Mr "in denial so bad maybe magic is the answer yep for sure". I want her to hear him singing something he used to for his daughters/wife etc and shes like 👁️👁️ who hurt this man........... (Could also work for selkie Chil) What’s his tragic backstory…..

I think marcille also deserves to go silly and catch a carp between her teeth, giving it to chilchuck batting her eyelashes like teehee... I'm such a good assistant right... He needs them undamaged if he wants to sell them but he still makes use of her gift anyway... Puts it in a stew and shares it with her... Something we made together..… Marcille being able to taste human food with actual spices and actual heat and actual cooked meat... His home is the warmest place on the surface. His hugs are more comforting than even the water’s. AGH and how long hasn’t he eaten a real homecooked meal you’d bet 😭 Marcille notices he’s underweight and is like "he’s always fishing though??? Does he just need like, a lot??" and takes it upon herself to bring him more fish to feed him. "He NEEDS to blubber up. I know it." Do you think when his wife was still there he'd come home to the smell of cooking.... but now there's nothing......... He’s on his own, he sleeps in the boat… It just smell like fish all day. The stench gets to him and even the burn of alcohol in his nostrils is a kinder hell. NOW he comes back to the stench of roting flesh and he's like :))) ahh.... my gi rl firned 💖 /j

Selkie Marcille getting onto his boat out of nowhere and slapping the beer bottle out of his hand. It’d go hard if he’s so drunk once that he’s leaning over the railing with his bottle hanging down from his grip and the beer goes into the sea and she tastes it and is like. Now what the fuck is this. Ew. He doesn’t look so good maybe I should splash him with water. She could save him from drowning... Girl who puts him on a rock somewhere until he wakes up and hides in the water as soon as he comes to… Peekinh at him from the surface of the water because, oh dear we're shy now because it's face to face… Drawing parallels between swaying (drunk) and swaying (motion of boat on the sea). She sways his world…… Makes him feel dizzy in a nice, light airy way…… He crashes into his bed in his home and still feels the rocking of the waves under him, and he falls asleep thinking of her…

Go out to the sea in a storm because you can’t stand feeling useless. The sea is your livelihood, it's where you're good and useful. On land you never know what to do with your hands. Maybe he should just let the sea pull him under. let it sweep him away. Marcille does exactly that, but it's not something that erases him. It's not something that swallows him whole. It's something that shows him a whole other world- The coral reefs, the schools of fish that exist below, the lush seaweed forests that Marcille treasures so much. It's all been there for him to see, theres so much beneath his feet. And all he had to do was let her take his hand. This world full of fish and creatures he's caught and gutted... that he gets to see in a different light…… The idea of him trusting her enough to let her lead him underwater... I think the time that Marcille leads him into the water should be on one beautiful evening, with the water shimmering, and the sun casting rays onto the waters surface- enough that it's still scary at first, enough that Chilchuck still struggles against the salty grasp of the waves, but when marcille takes him under he can see just how the light of the sun casts its spotlight on the seafloor- and how even in the shallows therein lies a thousand wonders, ones he's stepped right over before. I'm just obsessed with chilchuck experiencing a whole nother world in there. Give me childlike wonder. Give me a Marcille who wants to show her grump fucking fisherman boyfriend the cute fishies and the minnows, the pretty hermit crabs. Something about the sea looking different from beneath the waves... The parallels of him on the beach stepping over shells and urchins in the shallows with his boots and just crush them right over, not even noticing he did from force of habit and routine having dulled everything… Him working on the sea all the time but never really seeing it because he’s so absorbed in his own shit and he always just uses the harbor so there’s never real contact with it anyways. When the sea water laps at his forearms when he reels the net in but they feel like lashes of frost against his skin. She'd look really pretty with her hair flowy in the waves............ Marcille’s hair should get used for creepy compositions more… In the water she takes him under and her hair tangles and latch onto him against his skin. Her hair is long, underwater it could engulf him probably, he likes blonde hair he'd be happy with that… Not the lowkey suicidal ideation of letting the sea take him and how he’d be happy suffocating in her hair when doing a dive wow ok

I keep thinking about the Dredge AU… The video game yes yes. It’d be a mess but ohhh ohh the sea and its wonderful world but also its dark secrets, Marcille researching the depths and finding dark powers and idk the tragedy of a man at sea who can’t forget what he’s lost and the mythical gf he made that was never meant to be and it’ll destroy them both idk idk. Bc of Marcille helping him fish from below as a selkie, Senshi like YOU ARE OVERFISHING YOU ARE DESTROYING THE ECOSYSTEMMM @ them lmao You are feeding the whole town and making big bucks but you’re fishing so much that some fish are starting to get stale without being bought, the sea is bleeding and the leviathan is hungry

Maybe one time, one of them gets upset at the other and holds the seal fur hostage, its sooo mean but it also feels very them. When I think selkie I think of the movie Song of the Sea and in that movie the father of the protags loved a selkie, the mother, but she had to leave at one point for the sea because that’s her nature etc etc, but he didn’t want her to leave so he hid her skin which like. Ruined everything and hurt her. And ohhh the parallels… Leaving him… Just food for thought.

Selkie Chil & marine researcher Marcille

The reverse of that where Chil’s the selkie, Marcille’s fascination for him has the reverse angle, almost like admiration too. Crying she’d be like "who’s this mysterious guy, why’s he look kinda ethereal(selkie fairy blablabla)?" and investigates meanwhile he doesn’t want anyone to see him transforming and such so he’s like "leave me aloneeeeeee!!" Selkie chil? secretive man who just wants to chill gets grabbed by the most enthusiastic fairytale-obsessed girl out there. She WILL almost drown trying to say hi. C’mon mister mythical let’s have a storybook romance <3 Jumping in da water and he has to rescue her and immediately gains 100 grey hairs. She gets her storybook ‘saved by the merman’ moment but at what cost. "WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGG" screaming, she gets scolded very much but it all goes in one ear out the other tbh. Selkie Chilchuck is even better with his secretiveness... How do you get around the fact you’re a seal? Iunno I’ve never been a seal Obsessed with the implications of his family in this. Except if his wife and daughters were humans and so his work travels are instead selkie shenanigans going out at sea for months on ends, I imagine they’d be selkies too… Did they get separated? Die? Is Chilchuck’s cowl in this one Flertom’s fur? :( Once more mentioning sea shanties Chilchuck btw, Roll the Old Chariot comes to mind… Ooough Song of the Sea from the movie that he sung to his daughters <33 I’m fine

With the researcher angle actually being pushed there are interesting plots and scenes you could think of obvi, but uh we kind of went off on the fisherman Chil Marcille selkie AU instead haha. It’d be cute if she ends up teaching him how to live on land in the end. Dresses him up like a funky lil guy. I went with tallman Chil when drawing it and selkie Marcille’s more elf-like, and for selkie Chil I’d imagine it’s the reverse where she’s tallman-like and he still looks like a halfling… Sea-related AUs are my weak spot <33

No matter how you turn it, Marcille is the instigator lol. Selkie Marcille: this little man… I want to know more about this human! Selkie Chilchuck = tries to avoid everything but this Marcille keeps chasing him! It’s her job to, Chilchuck minds his business!! He sees a sliver of something weird out at night? Not his job nope keep your nose out of that it’ll only bring you trouble. It’d have to really itch him at him for him to crack I think… Honestly he’d make a great lovecraftian horror protagonist lol. We love a girl with no chill and her nose in everyone’s business

Shout to to @dayundying, @cabinette, @soappox and @lucky-fydraws!! These people were there for the brainstorming and the writing of the scripture…

#Dunmeshi au #marchil #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #dredge au #Irish chilchuck ftw #also let’s be real chil would see a naked woman monster and be like oh… i am listening #Mean old fisherman ily. He wonders how seal jerky would taste. Surprisingly kind tho. Would pet the seal #If ppl want more specific credit or parts edited out just lmk #Tallman chilchuck

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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 5 months ago

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╰┈ 𝓶𝔂 𝓳𝓸𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓸𝓵𝓭 ┈➤

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : when sailing, pirates, fishermen, and the navy alike follow three simple rules. one, respect the sea and all of its wealth. two, stay alive. and number three, when you see any kind of merfolk, don’t wait, just shoot.

𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : mentions of injury, blood, shooting, drowning, descriptions of anatomy,

𝓪/𝓷 : based on @francixoxoxo's beautiful pirate!billy x mermaid!reader au! i haven't stopped thinking about this au so here is my take on it! hope you enjoy!

Every sailor knows that the ocean hosts the biggest mysteries of man. From the gaping depths that not even the dead can reach, to the beauty of the reefs and fish that swam the waters blue. And, yet it is still unknown to man the difference between a mermaid and a siren.

See, sirens be a dangerous thing. Heavenly and beautiful, but deadly nonetheless. They’ve got no human in them, making humans their number one prey. They’ll lure you in with a song so sweet, you’ll hear the tune for the rest of your life. They’ll trick you with their beauty. Their scales shimmering in the light, even offering them modesty by covering the swells of their breasts. But, as soon as any sailor lets their guard down, they reveal their fangs.

They drag sailors and fisherman alike down, drowning out their screams as the sirens sink their fangs into the flesh of man. Which is why, sailors alike all follow three very simple rules all of equal value.

Number one, respect the sea and its wealth. Do not take it for granted for you may find your fishing nets empty or even your ship wrecked.

Number two, stay alive. This one should be very self-explanatory, yet some still decide to throw themselves overboard anyway. They clearly didn’t get the message.

And number three, when you see any kind of merfolk, don’t wait, just shoot.

Billy never understood these rules, he always thought they were contradictory. How can one respect the sea when one is expected to shoot its people on sight? He loved the sea and would never dare to shoot someone who called the deep blue home. Which is why he prayed that he would never encounter any merfolk on his excursions at sea.

Even his family, a family of sailors and navy men alike, had never encountered merfolk. Billy had grown up with a father that told stories of his and his crew's trips out on the sea. His mother had grown up right on the beach, sharing stories that her fisherman father had told her. His own brother, Jo, had always dreamed of sailing away on the deep ocean blue and finding adventure. Jo would often beg his older brother to take him out on the small sailing boat that their father had made just for the two of them. And of course, Billy would oblige.

He’d get the sail ready and he would hoist Jo up and onto the boat before pushing away from the shore. Billy would quickly jump on to the mini boat, causing it to rock back and forth as the sounds of Jo laughter and their parents shouts of care. He would steer the ship left and then right, zig zagging on the ocean. Finally, once night fell, Billy would help Jo lay down on the deck, pointing out constellations.

“You see that one, o’er then Jo? That one is called the North star.” Billy would point up, his finger seemingly touching the bright star as it glimmered in the dark night sky.

“N why is that Billy?” Jo would ask, bringing his hand up next to his brother, reaching his hand so that hopefully, it would be as long as his older brothers. Billy would chuckle and lower his arm, noticing his little brother. Billy would then wrap an arm around Jo as he helped Jo sit up, slowly steering them back to shore.

“That’s cause it leads true north Jo. It’s mighty helpful to us sailors so don’t you forget it.”

Once they reached shore, their Ma would already have dinner cooked, most likely seafood stew or grilled fish depending on what was caught that week. Their Pa would be awaiting them, blankets in hand, asking about their adventure. Jo would then happily tell his Pa everything Billy had taught him, from how to steer the boat to everything about the stars.

It was on nights like those that Billy wished that he was with them. The stars glittering in the skies while Billy sailed never failed to make him homesick. When he had finally become old enough to sign himself up on a crew with his friend Jesse Evans, Billy waved bye to his parents and Jo embarked on a fishing boat. He continued to write to his brother about his adventures as a sailor as the crew slowly but surely grew. Billy found that he had more and more to write about as they traveled quite frequently, selling all that they fished to the locals in the town or even trading them for other commodities. Slowly, their crew grew and their ship became lively with the chatter of the boys dreaming about the ladies in the next port town they anchor in.

Billy never joined in on conversations like those. He didn’t dream about one night stands with women who’ll forget your name by morning. No, Billy dreamed about love so grand that it’d contest his love of the ocean and his family. He yearned for a love so wrong that it felt right. He couldn’t help but look at the ocean, praying to the big blue that he would find someone who'll love him as he loved her.

As he gazed up at the stars that night, Billy played the fiddle and sang to the ocean about adventure and love hoping that it would sing right back to him.

You had always wanted to see the stars.

Your father, however, had forbidden it. You see, your father was part of the surface guard, a special force that protected the mermaids and mermen from reaching the surface where the sirens and human sailors were. Of course, as the daughter of the captain of the guard, you had a duty to your father to set a good example for the others in the reef you lived in. Yet, that didn’t stop your curiosity towards humans and the upper world. Your very own mother had been the same way, a likely reason your father hated you took after her. After all, it was that very wonderful curiosity she had that ended up leading to her death.

You were young when she was harpooned. Your mother had been checking up on your father since he was on guard duty that day. She loved visiting your father not only because she got to see the love of her life but also because she got glimpses of the surface. She even kept a detailed log of what she observed every time which she had passed on to you.

But on that fateful day, she wouldn’t be able to write about the cruel sailors that caught a poor turtle in the net. She would never be able to tell you how your brave father had frantically thrown his spear to cut the net your mother was about to get herself tangled in. And even your father would never be able to muster enough courage to tell you the sound he made when he saw the harpoon cut straight through your mothers chest, smile on her face as she whispered to your father one last time…

“I love you.”

He had changed after that day. He hated humans, even more than sirens who plundered their food stores and murdered mermaids and humans alike. He hated how you took after your mother, her eyes reflecting in your own. He couldn’t even bear the thought of losing you like he had lost your mother.

So, he cracked down on the siren and human infestation. He shot and killed any man that drifted close into their reef. He also made sure that no mermaid or merman ever reached close enough to the surface to get harpooned.

Of course, that didn’t stop you from breaking your fathers rules. Turns out, there was a shipwreck not even an hour swim away from your darling reef. You loved visiting it even if it was well within harpooning range of the sailors that sailed right above it. That didn;t stop you though. You loved looking through the chests of treasures like human clothes and even a human gun. You loved all the thinga-majigs you found, even if no one was with you to admire it.

Although, your favorite part about the shipwreck was that it was close enough to the surface for you to get a glimpse of the bright lights that littered the night sky. You had never dared to go above the surface. The old women in your reef telling stories about mermaids who became sirens the minute they breathed in fresh air. No mermaid in their right mind would ever want to become a siren so of course, all the young mermaids did their best to stay away from the surface. Even you were still a little afraid of the surface and the air above.

And yet, that didn’t stop you now.

Although in truth, the position you found yourself currently in was just a big instance of wrong place at the right time.

You were just swimming to your little hideaway when you suddenly got caught in a big confrontation between a group of guards and sirens. One of the other sirens had pulled you into their group, not realizing that you were a mermaid. But of course, out of fear, you had clammed up because who knew what they would do to you if they found out you weren’t one of their own. You had followed them, making sure that your hair covered your breasts in fear they would see the peaks and murder you in an instant.

So you swam, watching the sirens in fascination. Soon, you came upon a human ship, nets in the water and anchored down. The sirens surely got into position, swarming around the ship, slowly humming. One of the sirens pushed you, shoving you into formation. Slowly, each of the sirens started singing. The tune was haunting yet beautiful. Yet, as you slowly reached the surface, you heard another voice singing. This one wasn’t as perfect or smooth as a pearl, it was deep and rough. That’s when you spotted him.

Up on the ship, sat a human. His face twisted in concentration as he hummed the harmony to the stringed instrument on his shoulder. His chin rested on the tail end of the instrument as he used a long, hairy stick to hit the strings producing a tune so unique and unlike anything you had ever heard. His lips pursed as he hummed louder, the softer. He had hair that looked so soft as if it were the algae that stuck to rocks. And once he opened his eyes, his deep blue ocean eyes widened in panic as he pulled himself away from the raised edge of the boat.

The other sirens had started to sing along to the tune of the human, lulling some of the sailors to whisk their heads over the edge, nearly falling overboard. Some ran back and yelled commands at the others. Your heartbeat spiked, and you felt your skin grow colder and colder with each breath you took of fresh air. You had even forgone looking up at the stars you had so desperately wanted to look at. Your chest started to heave up and down and in fear, you looked down at your breasts, relieved to see that they were still peaked. Those old ladies were just lying, truly a relief.

What wasn’t a relief was the fact that Billy had been so ignorant of his surroundings while he was playing his fiddle that he didn’t see the merfolk that had flocked to the ship. They had started singing the song Billy had been playing, an old sea shanty about a sailor named William. Their voices creeped up on the sailors as Billy had rushedly started yelling to the crew. Yet that didn’t stop mermaids singing. He rushed to the weapon stores, as did Jesse and many others. Billy rushed as he quickly reloaded the rifle while jogging to his station.

The sirens continued to sing their haunting tune, their voices growing as they moved closer and closer to the ship. You had followed them of course, adrenaline running high in your veins as you felt your heartbeat in your ear. The sirens had all started to claw their way aboard the sailors ship, all reaching up to the sailors demurely. They put their arms out in front of them, as if inviting the sailors to hoist them up onto the deck.

Suddenly, a loud bang rang out and the sirens hissed as their fangs came out. They used their specially made algae nets to latch onto the sailors and pull them down into the water. You hurriedly swam away from the commotion as other sirens had also started to flee.

“Filthy little mermaid.” You heard hissed before suddenly being thrown back. You were tossed around as the sirens pushed past you as more and more bangs were heard. You felt small bullets like the one you had found in the human gun whizz past you. You turned to the ship, looking up at the skies that were littered with dots of bright lights. You closed your eyes and prayed that Poseidon would allow you just a few more minutes before sending you to see your mother again.

Billy was frozen, rifle in arm, aimed right at one of the merfolk. His finger was on the trigger, ready and waiting to release a bullet, yet his finger lay frozen as well. It was pure chaos on the ship. Sailors yellin’ and shootin’ the damned sirens that surrounded their ship, trying to pull the sailors down for a quick bite. They were fighting tooth and nail to scatter the merfolk. Many of them had fled and very few were still trying to drown them.

Still, there was one that lay just below the surface of the water. She had seemed different to the other sirens. Her hair was long and flowy and her breasts were nippled just like a woman’s. But it was her tail that completely threw Billy off. It was slowly moving back and forth, its iridescent color changing in the moonlight as she moved. Once it was pale pinks and blues, then it was bright green and purple. It was like no gem Billy had ever seen yet his gun was aimed right at her. The other sirens' tails were murky colors, drained and tired. Her’s was bright and full of life. Her eyes were trained on the starry night sky just like Billy’s were not even ten minutes ago.

“Oh Kid, ya’ gonna shoot ‘er or what? What’re ye’ waitin’ for?” Jesse yelled at him, Billy turned around and saw Jesse with the harpoon ready and waiting. Billy panicked and shot without really aiming.

In a flash, you also panicked and swam as quickly as you could to the underside of the ship where most of the sirens had hid. Blood started tainting the water red from where the ocean eyed sailor had shot you. Red hot searing pain rippled through your body as you clamped a hand over the wound on your torso. You looked around, curious because none of the other sirens were attacking you viciously as the people in the reef believed. That is when you noticed how they were working together, slowly rocking the boat left to right. They were going to topple the ship over so that the sailors would drown. The other sirens continued to attack the sailors as more and more bullets whizzed through the water.

Billy had noticed the ship slowly starting to rock. His heart raced as he prepared himself for the worst. He quickly ran to Jesse explaining what he thought was happening. Billy believed that there were sirens underneath the ship, rocking the ship back and forth to topple it over. And that the sirens attacking them were merely a distraction to keep the sailors busy instead of sailing away. Of course, Jesse slowly also started to notice the rocking.

Jesse yelled at the crew, opening the sails and getting the row boats ready just in case. They slowly started to rock more and more. Suddenly, rain started pouring and the wind picked up, moving the ship slowly as it started to rock more and more.

One of the newer crewmates screamed as he fell overboard, barely catching the taffrails of the ship. Billy ran over to help the poor guy when a siren latched onto his legs, trying to pull him down. The boy's cries for help grew louder and louder as Billy reached for any weapon he could pry the siren off of the sailor with. He found a harpoon in hand and Billy paused. He knew he shouldn’t but it was either the young sailor or the siren. Billy aimed and then the siren screeched out in pain falling down, down, down. He hoisted the young boy up as the boat continued to rock.

You saw the siren harpooned in front of you, the sirens screaming out in madness. After all, the sirens were one big family. They cared for each other, that much you could tell as all the sirens banded together to avenge their fallen sister. You wondered if that was what your father had seen when your mother was harpooned. Had he seen the skin go sickly pale and red enveloped his vision? Or had he seen her scales go brittle and her tail seize up? In honesty, you didn’t want to know because if he had seen something even remotely similar to what was in front of you, you knew you wouldn’t want to relive that nightmare again.

You swam up to watch what the sirens would do. All at once, sailors and fish as cool as ice were falling into the sea as the sirens ripped and gnawed at the sailors ship. You saw the sailor shoot more and more of the sirens as you had been shot. But, one of the sailors, the one with deep blue eyes, was weaponless. He was trying to get some of the other sailors to put away their harpoons. Why? You didn’t know or understand.

Suddenly, the ship started to sink, more of the sirens pulling the sailors down. The ship suddenly split into two, pieces of wood covering the sea and your view. You started to swim when you saw sailors swimming away or continuing to shoot and harpoon the sirens. Slowly, prey in tow, the sirens started swimming away one by one. You too started to swim away when you noticed the blue-eyed sailor. His face calmed as he shut his eyes and moved his lips slowly.

When Billy had been pulled underwater, the first thing he thought of was his poor mother. How would she take the news of his death, he wondered. How would lil Jo take it? His father would be furious, that's for sure. Not only at the ocean but the merfolk as well. Would anyone else mourn Billy? That, he was unsure of. He had closed his eyes, resigning to his fate. And yet, he was happy to have died this way. In the arms of his favorite place. The water didn’t feel cold or deadly, it was suddenly warm and enveloping. He thanked God like his mother had for being granted this life, no matter how short it was. He thanked Poseidon as his father had for being granted this death. Slowly Billy lost consciousness as could no longer hold his breath, letting water take over his body and wash him away from the land of the living.

You, on the other hand, had started to hoist the sailor up towards the surface. He was by no means light, making your tail work extra hard just to slowly reach the surface. Once you had, it was just a matter of where the closest beach was. You didn’t want to leave the man for dead because after all, he tried to stop his friends from outright harpooning them. Sure, he may have shot at you with a gun but wounds like those were easy to heal. You had started to swim to shore, remembering every so often that humans couldn’t breathe underwater. Once you finally reached the shore, you lay him down on the sand. His eyes were still closed so you checked if he had any life left in him. You pressed you ear to his chest, hoping that men too had hearts that beat like yours. You felt the slight rhythm so you decided to hit his chest hoping that it would get the water out of his weak human lungs.

Up close, he was beautiful, you thought. He looked so different to the mermen in your reef. You traced his jaw with your hands as you felt the slight roughness of his chin. You moved the hair away from his forehead, noticing how light it felt. You pressed down on his chest again, hoping that it would finally wake him up. What good was it if he just ended up dying after you had brought him back to land? You opened his mouth, noticing how soft his lips felt. You recalled how your father said that humans breathed out deadly gasses while merfolk breathed out air that humans could breathe which is why sailors alike looked to be kissed by mermaids many moons ago. Then, you lightly pressed your lips to his, breathing out air into his lungs.

Billy woke up with a start. He turned to his side and coughed out water, his throat burning from the salt and expelling the water. His eyes squinted underneath the harsh sun he found himself under. He looked around, taking in the beach that he now lay upon. That's when he finally saw you. His eyes trailed down from your face all the way down to your gem-like tail.

Billy noted your beauty that was incomparable to any other woman he had ever seen. Your hair was silky and your eyes were big and bright. He saw your bare breasts that seemed like they would fit perfectly in his rough hands. You were looking at him with those glowy eyes of yours, your head tilted.

“Well good morning sunshine.” You smiled brightly at him.

“G’morning darlin’,” he smiled back, you noticed how boyishly he smiled much like the young boys in your reef, “Ya’ wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would ya?”

“Well, no, I don’t. But,” you practically sang, you voice sweeping over Billy like a tsunami,” its land. And there should be a human town somewhere over there.”

“So not only did ya make sure I didn’t drown, ya also brought me to land where I can breathe?”

“Well isn’t that a silly question,” you giggled, chuckling at how silly he was. You found yourself entranced by him and you didn’t even know his name.

And that feeling was reciprocated. Billy found himself enchanted by you, of course, probably because you were merfolk. He didn’t think you were a siren though, but he had been taught that sirens and mermaids are one in the same.

“Well, since ya did all that for me, thank you. Really.” Billy had sat up and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. You then pressed your cheek against his hand, reveling in the warmth of his palm.

“Then I suppose you're welcome, human.”

“I do have a name y’know,” he laughed.

“And yet you still haven’t told me exactly what that name is. Shame, I suppose I’ll just have to call you human from now on.”

“Then I suppose I'll have to call you darlin’ from now on. Though I wouldn’t mind you calling me Billy, seein’ as it’s my name ‘n all.”

“Sounds like a deal, sailor.” You smiled, slowly splashing your tail around in the water. He asked your name so you told him in that sweet voice of yours. Billy found himself wanting to talk more and more to you, he wanted every single laugh and chuckle to himself. He was selfishly in love with you.

And you had found yourself wanting to know more and more about Billy. You wanted to know more about the story behind the sailor, wanted his deep and smooth voice to drown you like the sirens had drowned the humans. Both of you willing to drown as long as it was with each other. Billy had found that the sea did sing his song back and you had found that the sea led you right to its biggest treasure.

Respect the sea and all of its treasures, they said. And it, too, will give you treasure.

I had so much fun writing this and would love to hear your thought on my rendition of this au! Love love love @francixoxoxo's beautiful mind and this beautiful au!

#billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid pirate au #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #pirate billy x mermaid reader #LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS AU!!#welcome to emi's insanity #emi-sanity

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drgngutz · 6 months ago

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5 - Coast - Luffy x f!soulmate!reader

Chapter Five

Taglist: @mystic60 , @louisechec , @pinksh1t

Masterlist!

Happy reading!

Bit of angst in this bad boy.

I don't love making things so back and forth, but trust that it's for a good reason. We need that character development yk yk.

Also, the story takes place right after Alabasta.

---

It's a gorgeous day out on the sea. The skies are clear, with the rippling water shining and glittering in the sunlight, calm as can be as the wind brushed softly against my skin.

Nami was looking out at sea with the spyglass, ensuring that the weather wouldn't change on us, as well as keeping an eye on the horizon for any ships or islands we might be approaching. After all, the Log Pose had been pointing in this direction for a little while now.

Zoro was exercising at the top of the flagpole, using only his thumb to do some kind of upright push-up. I had sat there and watched in amazement as he never faltered, up until he had reached the eighteen-hundred-sixty-eighth push-up; by then I was just bored.

The three teenage boys all stood next to each other with their fishing poles in the water, still having yet to pull up any fish for dinner. I stood beside Chopper, watching the little bobber float in the water as we lazed over the railing, waiting for something to happen. Robin sat reading the second book in her series, not far from us.

Finally, it dunked beneath the water, Chopper and I perking up.

"I got one!" He shouted, before yanking the stick backwards and nearly smacking me in the face with it. The fish wriggled in the air as it was plucked from the water, before Chopper dragged it on board and carried it by the lip.

"Look!" He showed it off to Luffy, who was all smiles in return. Crouched next to Chopper to observe the first catch, I peered around the reindeer up towards my soulmate, who seemed to vibrate with excitement. I could feel the blush creep up my neck by just looking at him, still dressed in the white cloth from the crew's previous adventure. He never looked at me, though.

"Amazing!" He praised Chopper, who giggled happily in response. Snapping my attention back to the youngest, I smiled and praised him as well.

"Good job, Chopper. That's a big one!" He grinned with pink cheeks, before trotting away to put it in a bucket that Sanji had placed for each catch. He was planning on making some sort of fish stew, or chowder, which I was pretty excited for.

In a moment, Chopper's line was baited and back in the water, waiting patiently for the next fish to bite with excitement. A minute passed, and then another... then five, then ten. I was wilting with boredom.

"Um... Hey, Usopp?" I asked timidly, twiddling my thumbs as their lines lay vacant in the ocean.

"Yeah?"

"Any chance you have another rod?" I turned to look at him as he perked up, "I kinda' wanna' try it. I've never gone fishing before."

"Really?" Chopper asked, sounding surprised.

"Here you go!" The rod was shoved in my face and I took it into my hands. Looking back up at Usopp, he had a proud grin on his face, his eyebrows furrowed in confidence.

"You're in luck, missy; It just so happens that I'm an expert fisherman, and an excellent fishing instructor! In fact, I was the greatest fisherman on my island! I even held the record for a five-hundred ton Sea King!" He boasted. Chopper and Luffy looked at him in awe, stunned words like 'awesome' and 'so cool' from their lips. I was not so easily swayed, though. One thing I had learned was that Usopp loved to make up stories.

Surprisingly, just in time for his show, Usopp's rod began to bend and creak as something big tugged on the other end.

"This is big! This could be the guardian fish of the sea!" He grunted, pulling back against the weight of the fish on his line.

All three of us looked over the edge with baited breath, excited to see what he was going to pull up. The sight had me doubting my previous thoughts. Maybe he actually was a good fisherman, and this wasn't just one of his exaggerated stories...

"Really?" Chopper delightedly asked.

"That's amazing!" Luffy was thrilled as well.

Usopp wrangled the creature from the water with a great splash, yelling in excitement once he finally felt it lose the fight. The boys yelled with him, not yet seeing what was on the other end of the line as I had. I pursed my lips, waiting for the disappointment to ensue when they saw the fish.

The smiles did indeed fade after seeing the baby swordfish, no larger than the size of a finger, squirming like a worm on the hook.

"'Guardian fish?'" Chopper deadpanned.

"It's not even a good snack." Luffy sighed, dissatisfied.

I shook my head with a grin. I should've known that Usopp was only talking big game. Still, he looked pretty upset.

"It's... cute." I shrugged honestly at him, meaning it as a compliment. He didn't see it that way, apparently.

"That's real nice coming from you guys!" He barked at me and Luffy, who stared at him in shock as I backed away at his abruptness.

"Have you two ever even caught anything?"

"Woah," I tried to defend, "I didn't mean it like that--"

"You'll see!" Luffy shouted back, tossing his line into the water with confidence.

"Watch this!"

Again, a few minutes pass, and nothing happens. Usopp begins cackling at his captain while Chopper stands there and pouts at the water, standing on tiptoes to look over the edge. Luffy begins bickering with Usopp about how his fish wasn't any better, before an argument starts to ensue.

Throughout this, I had managed to sloppily put some of the bait on the end of the hook, struggling not to pierce myself in the process. They still hadn't stopped yelling at each other even as I put my own line in the water.

"You sure you can even get one?" Usopp taunts.

"Course’ I can." Luffy grunts back, eyes furrowed in concentration.

My bobber stayed floating gently in the water, ripples bouncing from its surfaces and reflecting the white color with each movement. I kept my eyes locked on every sway, not sure when I would know if a fish was on the line.

A while passes, and the bickering has mostly subsided, save for the few times it swells back up again as Luffy still hasn't caught anything. As Usopp teases the boy that he should 'just give up,' a dark shadow begins to form in the water beneath me. The rod jerks for a moment, before stilling again.

"Um... guys?" The two fighting with each other don't hear my words, but Chopper does.

"What's the matter?" His concern matches my own, seeing my wrinkled brow and beginning to trot over.

"I think there's something on my--'' The bobber shoots beneath the surface so quickly that I don't have time to finish my sentence, nearly losing the rod from my hands as the line goes taut with a drawn-out twang. Gripping as tight as I can, I felt my knuckles ache from the pressure. Whatever was on the other end of the line tugged hard, nearly sending me overboard as I’m yanked forward and slam my ribs against the guardrail. The spot aches and I choke on a whine at the pain, then pull backwards as forcefully as I can, arms shaking. I don’t get very far, practically hanging over the edge of the ship.

"Oi... oi!" Sanji shouts from somewhere behind me, Nami joining him and yelling my name in shock as I brace myself as best I can, but it's not really working. The rod bends harshly, and I can't muster the strength to pull it up any farther. Chopper is at my leg, holding on and doing his best to help, but his small form wasn't doing much help.

"Do you have one?" Luffy asks, excited, and apparently not paying much attention.

"Let go!" Nami screams before I can answer, "Or it'll pull you overboard!"

"But what about the rod?" I cry back at her, voice strained, "I-I don't want to lose it!"

My palms burned, feeling the wood beginning to slip from my grasp; but I couldn't let it go yet, not after Usopp had let me borrow it. We used them to get food, after all.

"Just let the damn thing go!" Sanji shouts angrily, "We can get another rod; you can't pull that up on your own!"

"Hold on!" Usopp begins to make his way over, but is ultimately shoved out of the way by Luffy, rod clattering to the ground and laying forgotten as he bounds over.

"Lemme' help!" It's swift, but I can feel the warmth of his arms wrap around me, leaning so close I can feel the muscle of his chest pressed against my back. He reaches down and grabs the rod with his own hands, skimming over mine before clenching his strong fingers around the pole.

Feeling goosebumps rush down my skin from his closeness, I nearly let the rod go as his arms squeeze at my sides; then he’s backing both of us up and away from the guardrail, and I go willingly, limbs weak from the feeling of him all around me. Safe and away from the edge, I hear him grunt in my ear as he gives the rod a harsh yank, and the giant thing comes out of the water with an enormous splash.

Both of us fall backward onto the deck as it flies over us and slams on the floor. I’m laying with my back on his chest, feeling dazed as the mist spreads over my heated skin.

I tilt my head backwards, matching Luffy as we both look at the creature he had fished up; some kind of shellfish-squid-looking-thing, which landed a few feet from our heads.

"What the heck is that?" He says, the words rumbling beneath my head that, and the sound seems to soothe my aching muscles. For once, I feel fine. It's... comfortable.

Then, he rises, and I go with him as he tilts his head to look down at me. I feel my cheeks burn bright red, head still angled backwards, looking up at him. He's smiling, for some reason.

As soon as that fact registers, my face lights on fire. I scramble up and away from the boy, every nerve alight with the realization that I had just been laying on top of him.

In the background, the rest of the crew begins to gather around the strange object, voicing similar concerns to Luffy's earlier question. I put my hand down to get up from the floor trying to properly hoist myself up, but stop and hiss at the burn that follows. Quickly flipping it over, I find that they're raw and red; skin peeling and blistering, with a few splinters dotted along my skin that sting every time I move my fingers. The other doesn't look much different.

"You're pretty weak, huh?" I wince at his condescending tone, before glancing behind me. He's grinning, hands propping himself up from behind as his legs lazily sprawl around me.

"Yeah. I guess I'm just... not cut out for fishing." I respond quietly, eyes tracing over the frayed skin of my hands and deflating.

Once again, I wasn't up to par. At least for the person who mattered most.

"Huh?" He sounds bewildered, and I look back at him. His brow is creased with a frown, coal eyes looking at me like I was crazy.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I--" I began to stutter out, trying to look anywhere but at him. I hated when he looked at me like this.

"You got the biggest catch of the day!" He leans forward, pointing at the creature behind us, which topples over with a metallic clang. I blinked at it, then back at him. I could tell there was a pained expression on my face when his frown deepened.

"But... you caught it," I started, looking away again, "I wasn't even strong enough to pull it out of the water."

Suddenly, he's in my face, a big smile splitting his cheeks. Merely inches away, I barely registered that he must've leaned forward to make eye-contact again. I could feel his body heat radiating from his chest against my arm.

"Whatever! So what?" He started, scanning both my eyes as I did the same. My brows were still cinched, confused if I should be upset or happy about this scenario.

"Huh?" Was the only thing that could form in my stupid mouth. He laughed.

"So what if you weren't strong enough?" He continued, pointing a thumb toward the squid-thing, which seemed to begin opening via a hatch on its side.

"As long as you can get them on the hook, I can just pull 'em out of the water for you!" So... he wasn't annoyed, or disappointed, then. At least, that's what it seemed like. Why did this boy give me such whiplash?

"Oh." Is all I can muster, softly. He snickers as I look all over his expression for some sort of fault, some sort of trick. Maybe he was just playing with me? That didn't seem like something he would do, though. Then why was he so back and forth?

It's like he liked me one minute and then didn't the next.

"Well," I sighed out, sounding more disheartened than I would've liked.

"If you say so."

"Yep!" He grins, satisfied to have 'won' the conversation, "I say so, now lets do it again!"

"Wait--" I falter, putting my hands in between us as he stretches to grab the rod he had previously left forgotten. His arms whips back, fishing rod retrieved and smacking into place as his face falls into a neutral stare.

"Woah, what happened?" He's looking down at my splayed hands, wounded and ruined, but it's like there isn't a single thought behind his eyes.

"...I messed up my hands trying to keep the rod on board." I spoke dimly, pulling them back into myself as his continued stares made me uncomfortable. At their removal, his eyes snapped back up to mine.

"Oh." His tone is one that I can't place, and I feel something flip uncomfortably in my gut. His face was still blank. Had I ruined his mood? Probably. He didn't look excited anymore, so obviously his mood was ruined. But, what was that expression? Why was he so passive about my hands being wood-burned? Why did he look so... bored?

The panic button in my brain was going off.

"Chopper!" He had turned to shout across the ship, "Come fix her hands so we can fish again!"

"Right!" The little deer came rushing over to me, still sitting, as Luffy got to his feet and walked away. No goodbye, no wave, not even a glance. It was like I was useless to him now because I couldn't contribute to the one thing that he was set on doing.

I felt the twinge of annoyance begin to stick to my skin, but I didn't bother trying to quell it at that moment. After all my efforts, shared food and all, I was back to square one.

God. It was like taking one step forward and two steps back.

My hands were swiftly wrapped in a salve and bandages, Choppers medicinal abilities would have them healed in about a day or two. Then, he trotted back over to the others who were talking to a mysterious man in an orange suit. With each object each crew member had plucked from his stash, he went on a long-drawn-out speech about it being their top-product, before naming some ridiculous price. A con-man, or a salesman, working to get the highest pitch he could get; either way, I had seen many of these crooks in the city. I wasn't interested in seeing anymore of them.

I made my way towards the nearest door on deck, the storage room, for some peace and quiet. Anywhere that didn't involve my soulmate trying to talk to me for the moment.

---

I perked up from where I had my head rested on my arms on the table, hearing the door opening after some commotion outside.

It was Nami, carrying an assortment of parchment, quills, inks, maps and books. She looked just as interested to see me there as I was to see her.

"Hey, (Y/n)." She made her way over to the small table, and I moved my arms so that she could place her things down. She put the parchment paper, ink and quills there, but the books and maps were laid on a barrel nearby.

"Hey." I said softly, playing with the bandages on my fingers, which were falling off from the constant fiddling. Chopper wouldn't be happy.

"What's up?" She asked, but only after giving me a once over, obviously noticing my down-trodden appearance. I shrug, before clenching my fingers and forcing them onto my lap. I needed to stop messing with them, anyways.

"Nothing. What are you doing?" Avoiding the topic, I didn’t want to bother her so much with my soulmate-problems. We had little talks here and there about the topic, and I wasn’t about to disrupt her focus.

"I was gonna' start working," Nami replies, sitting on the other stool, "that salesman ran off and left some paper that I think will be perfect for my map."

"He ran off?" I asked, tilting my head as she grabbed her quill and began sketching.

"Yeah, after he found out who Luffy was." She grinned, before continuing.

"Sanji threatened to give him to the marines so that we could cash in his bounty and buy the paper for me." I snorted. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

My gut twisted uncomfortably as soon as the thought ran through my mind, and my skin vibrated in disapproval; a physical reaction that I assumed was from the soulmate bond. Inwardly, I wondered if Luffy could feel it, too.

I shook it off, watching as Nami continued to scratch notes and vague images of past islands onto ragged sheets of paper. When she decidedly moved onto the white, clean surface of her new parchment, I spoke up again.

"Your dream is to make a map of the world, right?" Nami hums a confirmation. Analyzing her finely drawn lines, I find myself impressed.

"I think your map is going to be really well-done," I start, "You pay such attention to detail, it's insane."

"Aw, don't make me blush!" Nami coos, and I grin a little at her mock-bashful tone, listening to the soft scrape of ink on paper. She was making the grid lines of her next map, now.

"In all seriousness, it's been my dream ever since I was little. It makes me happy to hear you say that." I give her a little 'mhm,' for a response, feeling a little bashful myself to hear her so gratified.

Some time passes as she begins to sketch out the bulk of the island, before she speaks up once more.

"Well, what about you?"

"Hm?" I blink, drawn from my haze, "Me?"

"Yes, silly. Don't you have a dream?" She laughs, still drawing.

The question makes me stop. I knew the answer. I had always known the answer, but to voice it out loud? Not once had I been asked what my dreams were, what my goals were.

It was quiet, save for the scratch of the quill.

"For a long time..." Voice quiet, Nami stopped moving. The air suddenly shifted to something less carefree.

"I just wanted a family. But, after a while, I realized what I really wanted was a place where I belonged. Where I would be loved, cherished, accepted... all that corny stuff." I chuckled, though it lacked a lot of emotion. Annoyance plumed in my chest once again.

"Then, my soulmate-mark appeared, and that was that." I sighed, feeling despondent, and Nami held a regretful look in her eyes. That made me feel worse.

"That's just it… Yeah, my dream was to find my soulmate. I guess it came true, right?" I gave her a comforting look, though I'm sure the smile didn't reach my eyes, and I couldn’t help the irritation that seeped into my words.

"Right." Nami confirmed, though she didn't sound confident in her words.

Then it was quiet again. We both stared at the paper in a reflective silence.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make it so serious." I said, sincerely.

"...did you not have a family?" She finally squeezed out after a moment, seeming hesitant. My heart clenched in my chest.

"No.” A deep breath, and then I continued.

“I lived in an orphanage for a long time and helped take care of the other kids once I was old enough. I did have one... for a while. But…” I stopped. Speaking the words out loud was difficult. Speaking the words only reinforced what had happened. They served as a reminder.

“They didn't want me." I bit back the tears, stubbornly refusing to let my sadness free. The words weighed heavily in the room as the past reared its ugly head within them.

"Oh." She whispered quietly.

"It's fine," I quickly tried to remedy, shaking my head to get rid of the bad.

"I have you guys now. I have you, I have the crew, and I do have Luffy." She must've been able to see through the mask of a smile splayed on my face, because hers reflected that she didn't believe me.

I didn't blame her, it was hard to believe myself; I had just laid out one of my biggest insecurities and pretended I was fine.

"It's fine, really, Nami. Everybody moves on at some point or another." I shrugged, twirling a quill in my fingers at her silence.

“Have you told Luffy, yet?” She asked, eyes squinted in disbelief.

“No,” I rebutted quickly, “I don’t want to.”

"...I could talk to him, y'know." She said slowly.

"I know." I started, "And I appreciate that you would... But, that's not what I want. It shouldn't come from anybody else other than him; if he changed because you talked to him, it wouldn't feel real... You know what I mean?"

"I understand." Nami looks at me, "But, you should talk to him.”

"...I know I should, I do. I just... I'm honestly scared, Nami."

"What?" She's taken aback, palms flat against the paper as her quill is dropped.

"I'm just-- Think about it like this," I turn fully towards her, "What if I do talk to him? I say what I want; be honest about how I feel, tell him about my past, all that jazz… and he just thinks I'm annoying or boring. And then, what if he loses interest? Just like he did today after we spoke for like, not even two minutes..."

“He’s just so… uninterested.” I sigh, tracing over the soulmate mark and biting my lip, feeling my throat clog at the words that I want to say. I just needed a moment to say them. The mark tingled uncomfortably.

"Nami, what if he just doesn't want me?" I frown, feeling like I could vomit at the idea. I was just feeding into the unending spiral that grew each time me and Luffy had interacted in the past few days.

"Then my dream is ruined." I finish, feeling defeated and empty at the ideas running rampant in my head.

It’s quiet, so I decide to risk a look at Nami, and nearly jump back as I look over. The woman is seething, fire nearly replacing the bright-orange of her hair as flames dance in her irises.

"How about I kick his ass for you, huh?" Nami snarls, "Treating his soulmate like that, making you feel like this... He's an idiot. Who needs boys, anyways?"

I sweat a little at how scary she had become in under a minute, a stark difference from the melancholic state she was in before.

"I'll kill him."

"...You can't, then I'll probably die, too."

"I'll almost kill him, then." She looks rearing to go, practically rolling up her sleeves.

The sight has me smiling, and then giggling.

"Sure, I won't stop you," I'm still laughing, and it's contagious as Nami joins soon, "Maybe it'll make me feel better or something."

We just sit there, giggling at each other by ourselves in the storage room. We chuckle until I wipe tears from my eyes, feeling a lot lighter after ending the conversation on a good note. Then, it's quiet again. A comfortable quiet, this time.

"He does want you, y'know..." Nami tries to comfort, and I find myself not believing her, this time around.

"Before you showed up, he would talk about his mark, from time to time, and about how 'cool it was to have somebody that matched him.'" She sighed, putting a hand on her head, probably remembering the scene and thinking about how dumb he sounded at the time.

"He just... doesn't know how lucky he is to have you, yet."

"I'll try to take your word for it." I ended, not wanting to think about it anymore.

"Okay." Nami responded, before she picked up her quill.

"Anyways, you told me a little bit about your story, so I'll tell you mine! Sound fair?"

"Sure, but you don't have to." I was just happy that the topic had changed.

"Oh, please. It's my turn to guilt trip you now!"

"Nami! I wasn't trying to--"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and listen to my sob story, girl."

Chapter Six (Coming soon)...

#luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy

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atopvisenyashill · 2 months ago

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im gonna finish adwd by the new year dammit

decided to start with davos chapters because FOR ME a davos chapter never misses (yall just have bad taste, sorry to say). gonna do this more like my got liveblogs, so this will probably be long because it’s all four davos chapters.

tldr of my thoughts on davos' adwd arc is:

davos is the common folk's superhero

manderly is RIGHT why is everyone discounting him as a loyal northerner when THEY MURDERED HIS SON MY GOD these people are asking to get baked into a pie

i am so so curious about the manderly family dynamics. i desperately want a longer and more intimate peek into that family!

wex pyke is iconic!!!!!

He had a sort of webbing between the three middle fingers of his right hand. Davos had heard that some of the lords of the Three Sisters had webbed hands and feet, but he had always put that down as just another sailor’s story.

love little details like this that really ground this story as a fantasy world!! just a trio of islands with people who still got webbing in their hands!!! i know this happens irl but usually that less "webbing between fingers" and more "fingers fused together" type thing - these people just have like, mermaid hands!

Those fingers do not lie. You are the onion knight.

they say this like he's batman omg THE COMMON PEOPLE'S HERO THE ONION KNIGHT

The galleys Oledo and Old Mother’s Son had been driven onto the rocks of Skagos, the isle of unicorns and cannibals where even the Blind Bastard had feared to land

RICKON AND SKAGOS MENTION

Part 30 in the epic love triangle of Salla, Stannis, and Davos, where Sallador begs Davos to come south with him and Davos refuses, going on his fool's errand to help win the North to Stannis' cause. Truly, whom else is giving me gay middle aged drama like this.

SISTER'S STEW. Damn I'm very hungry right now too.

The Manderlys are no northmen, not down deep.

CAREFUL MAN. I ENJOY YOU BUT BE CAREFUL SHIT TALKING THE MANDERLYS LIKE THIS.

It's funny that they say the Manderlys only came to the North "900 years ago" but you wouldn't say that Dorne isn't part Rhoynish just because the Rhoynar only came 1000 years ago. Like a hundred years isn't that much of a difference to discount the loyalty the Manderlys may have to the Starks!

The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down. They say he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly. Jon Snow, she named him, after Arryn.

JON SNOW BABY THEORY. I know it's not true but I do wonder what happened to the fisherman's daughter that helped him. Did she have a bastard of someone else's? Was it just a rumor and her identity has long been forgotten, if she ever hears rumors about who jon’s mother is, what she thinks of them.

In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads it's true...but what if we prevail?

fuck i love ned so much

next chapter starts with a little tour of White Harbor, which is fun, getting to see a lot of the war refugees (bet Wyman feels stupid as fuck for leaving Lady Hornwood to die and not helping her escape Ramsay when he had the chance, Wyman you fucking jag off), then Davos just broods alone like "what am i meant for" FOR BEING A KING'S HAND YOU'RE JUST SERVING THE WRONG KING RIGHT NOW IT'S FINE YOUR KING IS STILL TURNING INTO A TREE BUT HE'LL BE BACK SOON

a slave revolt was raging in the east

DANYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

it’s interesting how “the last targaryen hatched dragons” and “there’s been several slave revolts” aren’t always connected as stories. probably just a comment on how slow news travels and how long the game of telephone going on is. i also love how when the men are talking about the targaryens that were in robert’s rebellion, a woman speaks up to be like “there was a girl too wasn’t there” AND she knows all about daena the defiant, very cute to me.

Robett Glover was in the city and had been trying to raise men, with little success. Lord Manderly had turned a deaf ear to his pleas. The Ryswells and the Dustins had surprised the ironmen on the Fever River and put their longships to the torch. And now the Bastard of Bolton was riding south with Hother Umber to join them for an attack on Moat Cailin. Some Hornwood men have joined them, and Cerwyns too. Ser Wylis, though, he's still a captive

just tracking northmen movements here

i love that the sloe eyed maid shows up all the way back in acok in a dany chapter, then we get to see what happened to it in a davos chapter all the way in adwd. once again, makes the world feel so connected, and the fact that it's davos, who understands the very specific pain of taking the risk to sail all the way to the east, only to die being tricked by a light in the Sisters......it's so good.

The knight wore silver armor, his greaves and gauntlet inlaid with niello to suggest flowing fronds of seaweed. The helm beneath his arm was the head of the merling king, with a crown of mother-of-pearl and a jutting beard of jet and jade.

the fact that the northerners never got any fit as sexy as they do in the books.....d&d when i catch you in these streets!!!

i forgot how infuriating that "robb actually killed all his own men by turning into a wolf" story is omg, the freys do have one thing and that's the AUDACITY because JEEZ the way they just keep going and going when even davos who doesn't know these people is like "hmmm wyman looks a little pissed off"

i am curious.....idk......robb turned into a wolf and murdered all his own men......sansa killed the king then turned into a bat and flew away...........am i cooking here?

i'm so interested in whether wynafryd is treated as heir apparent by wyman. wyman says she’s in on the plan, yet neither her sister nor mother are. this feels like a HUGE responsibility and secret he’s shared with her.

Davos asking for a book so he can keep at his reading...my heart...the little librarian in me started crying omg

king hon stark name drop…..the wolf den raised to defend against raiders….

I rose up from flea bottom to be a king’s hand and I learned how to read and write.

i’m sorry…..i’m crying again…..he learned how to read and write, on part with being the hand of the king….slight personal story but my great uncle dropped out of school in 6th grade to sell newspapers (he wasn’t a newsie, his dad has a truck, they did it together, which sounds slightly less like a dickens novel) but anyways he had very poor reading and writing skills and idk it’s just always something that gets to me about davos, that the reading is what he holds so dear, as dear as stannis’ favor!

PICTURE ME SCREAMING “ROBBEEEEEEEEEEEETT” AND RIPPING MY SHIRT OFF. NORTHERN POLITICS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

i had to calm down i was so excited i was doing that thing where your eyes keep jumping down the page so you’re mixing up you’re reading.

They crossed the castle’s godswood, where the heart tree had grown so huge and tangled that it had choked out all the oaks and elms and birch and sent its thick, pale limbs crashing through the walls and windows that looked down on it. Its roots were as thick around as a man’s waist, its trunk so wide that the face carved into it looked fat and angry.

britney_yeah.gif

What Did I Just Say Up There. So stupid to think Wyman isn’t just as Northern as the rest of them. If we wanna start getting tacky with it, Wyman is so ready to get tacky with it. Sorry to Freys & Lannisters but I think the pies is a cooler war crime!

“PORRIDGE FOR THE DEAD MAN.” Garth the gaoler is a comedian actually omg promote him to court jester!!

The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer’s farce is almost done. My son is home.

Wex is soooooo fucking funny, like setting Theon up to feel up his own sister on Pyke & being way too pleased about it, then being the first to join up for Theon’s last stand and forcing a bunch of proud old dudes to die for that idiot but managing to survive by hiding literally inside the Weirwood, and then over dramatically throwing a dagger at the island of skagos on a map to show Davos where Rickon is. This kid is funnier than most adults i know lmao, Wex Pyke you’re an icon.

#rani liveblogs asoiaf #davos seaworth #wyman is gonna do so many war crimes in twow in so fucking excited for the north to get in on this bad behavior akskdj

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