#lightkeeper!eddie

[moongirldreamer]

I will BEG ON MY KNEES FOR MORE OF YOUR MERMAID AU!!

SIREN!READER X LIGHTHOUSEKEEPER!EDDIE IS MY SOUUULLLLL!!!!!

thank you sm for this ask ughh I'm so glad someone other than irma(@theold-ultraviolence) is a fan of this au 😭😁

Here is Eddie finally finding the source of the never-ending singing. (click for quality)

I wanna talk a little about her design the blue for her tail was inspired by whales, they're all a shade of gray blue or black, so this makes it easy for her to camouflage often her tail is mistaken for a fish only if she intentionally shows herself then people realize what she is.

The redish pinkish lines are jellyfish stings. She lives in the sea so ofc she's run into one or two while not paying attention hehe

And again inspired by whales I put barnacles growing on her titties. I didn't want to do the typical shells or seaweed bra so I thought this was a cooler option. Thinking about it now that probably hurts like hell ahjsksdk.

sweetheart im soooooo sorry it took this long for me to reply but you can tell me if it was worth it or not :) 💕

Tagging some beaties @acrossthesestars @realfernmayo @1800-fight-me

[honourablejester]

5e Homebrew Spelljammer Background

While I’m talking about strange and terrifying god corpses in the Astral Sea, have a homebrew background for the Luminous Order, a homebrew organisation of mine, an almost paladin-like order of lighthouse keepers who set up lighthouses and lightbuoys in the Astral Sea to warn ships away from dangers like, well, mind-warping god corpses and sundry other dangers.

LIGHTKEEPER OF THE LUMINOUS ORDER

The Astral Sea is vast and dangerous, full of unexpected peril, and no one knows that better than the Lightkeepers of the Luminous Order, those brave and resilient souls who man the lightbuoys and lighthouses that the Order erects to warn those nearing the deadliest of those perils. You’ve spent untold years out in the silver, perhaps manning the tiniest and most isolated of tiny lightbuoys, perhaps more secure in one of the larger installations of the Order. Either way you have developed a sense for danger, a keen eye and a watchful mind. The Sea is vast and treacherous, and so the Lights of the Luminous Order keep watch, not only for their own sakes, but for the sakes of all who sail the Silver Sea. For whatever reason, perhaps simple loneliness, you have left the Order, but you will carry their lessons and the things you experienced out on the lights with you always.

Skill Proficiencies: Perception, and your choice of one of the following: Arcana, History, Religion

Languages: Two of your choice

Equipment: a set of common clothes, a spyglass, a belt-pouch with 10gp, and an enamelled pin of the tower-and-light which the Luminous Order gives to all who have served with them. These pins, worn honestly, invite respect from travellers and voyagers across the Astral Sea.

FEATURE: EVER WATCHFUL

The Luminous Order trains its keepers to be ever alert, and to always maintain the light. As a result of this training, you gain the Alert feat from the Player’s Handbook, and you learn the light cantrip. Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma is your spellcasting ability for it (choose when you select this background).

PERILOUS STATION

All members of the Luminous Order, no matter their station or function, serve time out on the lights, manning one of the Order’s lighthouses or lightbuoys. Some of these are tiny rickety buoys, two or three-roomed stations floating in the void of the Astral Sea, while others are more well-established, perhaps full towers and lighthouses built on firm asteroids or even gardened mini-worlds, courtesy of some of the Order’s druids and mages.

Where did you serve? Did you man a tiny buoy in some poorly-mapped region of the Sea that barely saw traffic (or resupply), or one of the larger lighthouses near well-known and well-trafficked dangers, or something in between? The table below suggests some locations your character might have served at, or you can work with your DM to come with one more suited to your character and campaign:

d6          Station

Buoy Nine Zero Azimuth (‘Last Stop’), a tiny, recently-established buoy guarding the edge of a newly-discovered (by the Order) section of the Sea that no vessel has yet successfully returned from. And there have been no shortage of attempts. Far flung as it is, the Order has had some difficulty in getting supplies and shift changes out to B90-A in timely fashion.

Sector Eight Great Light (‘Greengarden’), one of the Order’s larger regional hub-lights, standing guard over a well-travelled section of the Sea known for strange eddies and sudden colour pools, often to the Feywild or Limbo. An order of druids who pass often through the area have put their efforts into growing a small habitat and air envelope on Greengarden’s asteroid base.

Installation Five Four One Nadir (‘Station Dark’). One of the least desired posts in the Order, I541-N keeps watch over the approach to a dark mass of strangely-glistening rock that drifts erratically, and perhaps purposely, through the Sea, the remnants of a dead dark god that seeds madness into those who stray too close. The lightkeepers are not immune to the rock’s effects, despite many efforts to shield the station, and so keepers are rotated off the station considerably more often than at other posts, in an effort to keep the long-term effects to a minimum.

Light Four Two Helix (‘Wreckship’), an ancient lighthouse that warns vessels away from the Stargasst Eddy, a well-known yet still utterly unexplained mass of wrecked spelljammers and astral vessels that no one knows the cause of. Ships who enter the Eddy hoping to salvage their predecessors all-too-often follow in their footsteps, but the prospect of so much salvage still lures ships in. There has been a longstanding debate within the Luminous Order on whether they have any further responsibility to ward off or even forcibly stop ships from entering, but the Order exists to warn, not to quarantine, and so ships venture into the Eddy even still. A different question, and perhaps one that comes down to individual lightkeepers, is whether the crew of L42-H have any responsibility to try and rescue anyone who makes it most of the way out again …

Buoy One Six Intersect (‘Rickety Town’), a buoy in a very turbulent area of the Sea where several nearby Wildspace systems weirdly overlap onto more or less the same area, leading to a disturbed section of the Sea where one can traverse unexpectedly and without warning into Wildspace. Or where Wildspace can traverse unexpectedly and without warning onto you. Rickety Town, proudly named by some of its long-term keepers, is manned exclusively by autognomes and warforged, in case of sudden intrusions of vacuum and the passage of time.

Sector Thirty One Watch Light (‘Sentinel 31’). Some areas of the Astral Sea contain more colour pools, links to the other planes, than others, and some contain darker pools than others, links to more dangerous planes. Sector 31 is one of those. For whatever reason, colour pools to the Abyss and the Far Realms are common in this area of the Sea, and those who man the watch light, Sentinel 31, have hair-raising stories of things they have seen traversing the Sea beyond the reach of the light’s great beam.

[c-estmabiologie]

how to be afraid of the dark (Candela Obscura fic)

I miss Arlo and needed to get one last little character study out before the next chapter of Candela comes out. :(

Also on AO3

“Are you here because you want to be a Lightkeeper?”

It wasn’t that Arlo hadn’t heard the question; she had heard it perfectly, but hearing it didn’t mean that it had managed to push its way to the surface of her thoughts. And at that moment she was preoccupied. Arlo was thinking deeply about fate. She often wondered about fate, about destiny. There were just too many things that had happened in sequences so precise that couldn’t be dismissed as mere coincidence. She wondered if her life was simply meant to fold back on itself, like a ribbon being tied into a pretty bow. 

If only it could all be pretty. 

Arlo’s father had cut off his donations to Candela after she’d come downstairs for breakfast and he had seen how she looked. The toast points had grown cold while he’d told her how he could not in good conscience put money from the estate toward something that had done this to his daughter— whatever this was, neither he nor Arlo could quite find the words — no matter how much she insisted that she was fine, that she was better than ever, that she was doing so much good for herself and for Newfaire. It was no use; every time he’d looked at her she’d watched a furrow deepen between his eyes. By the end of the conversation, it had become a grave for her. By the end of the conversation, he was pushing his chair back from the table and she was squeezing the edge of the tablecloth in her fists, begging not to be sent to a sanitarium. 

She’d pleaded to stay home and had thought she would win, if only because they both must realize that mere rest and mountain air would not repair her and keep her from being more monster than girl. A tidy glove and well-tailored clothes could no longer pass her off as presentable for high society, nor society at large for that matter. She could picture the other residents avoiding her as she strolled the grounds. Would she even be allowed her books?

“If it’s what I look like that worries you, won’t people at a sanitarium talk just as much as people here?”

“Oh, Lamb, we can pay for your privacy.”

Her father had reached out as he’d said this, as if to smooth her hair behind her ear, like when she was a little girl. But as she’d looked up at him he’d stopped and withdrawn his hand. Something invisible pulled him away, away, away. Except the problem wasn’t invisible, was it. She was too visible. Her appearance was unbecoming. He didn’t know how to touch her. 

That was it: she was unbecoming. The word made her think of Eddie, darling Eddie, no-longer-Eddie stealing her face away. The sight of the last time she’d seen him, with his tangled-up body and strange glowing centre, was seared into the backs of her eyelids. He’d done unspeakably inhuman things, but he had, in the end, recognized her, hadn’t he? He’d still been himself, buried inside the monster he’d become. She didn’t know if she’d turn out like him, no-longer-Arlo, or if she was turning into something else completely. At that very moment, watching her father leave the room, despite everything, she felt mostly like the same-old-Arlo and not something new.

##

“Sorry?”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Alexandra repeated, “You want to become a Lightkeeper?”

“Well,” she said delicately, “not particularly. Did you really want to become a Lightkeeper when you did?”

Alexandra snorted and that was enough of an answer.

She had had no choice but to leave that night; she had no doubt that a car would be there for her by morning. Men in gloves ready to whisk her away, dose her with ether if she didn’t come docile.  As Arlo had crept downstairs, she’d checked her glove compulsively. She was grateful that her parents didn’t know the full extent of her transformation. They accepted the glove as a strange affectation that she’d taken on after Eddie’s disappearance; if they had reacted this poorly to seeing her blackened scleras and the creep of dead skin across her face, they would never be able to handle seeing the state of her hand. She didn’t much like looking at it herself. Eyes were for seeing, and she couldn’t see anything through the eye embedded in her palm. She didn’t like to think if something else could. 

It had only taken mere minutes of venturing out on her own for Arlo to understand a few basic truths: one, The Varnish was an entirely different beast after dark for a woman alone; two, the professor’s trick for conserving night vision worked just as well if you only closed one eye; and three, despite everything she had seen over the years — or maybe because of it — she was afraid. 

As a girl, Arlo had been afraid of the dark in the way girls normally are — here comes a candle to light you to bed and here comes a chopper to chop off your head — and she’d outgrown her fear for a while the way girls normally do. After Eddie, after everything she had seen with Candela, she’d always kept at least one lamp burning at her bedside. Since her latest case she’d kept her gaslights in her rooms hissing a twilight haze from their sconces. She allowed no crazed shadows that could be entities from beyond the Flare, no guttering flame like when her bedside lamp ran out of oil or wick or both, and, best yet, no sightless darkness like what had overcome her when her face had been taken away. In her dreams she remembered facelessness and it felt like the last few seconds of holding your breath — all spasming throat and pleading lungs — without the relief that comes from sucking in air. She’d awakened from these dreams gasping (with a mouth!) and dragging her hand across her face (her eyes, her nose, all there!). Arlo had left the lights burning when she’d stepped out at dusk and she would be grateful to see them if she ever came home again.

In the Varnish the shadows were uncontrollable and alive and could hide all manner of unpleasant things. As newly unpleasant herself, she tried to make these shadows her friends in her mind and stuck to them when other people were milling about. She tied her hair back loosely enough that strands could come unbound and hide parts of her face. She’d even dug into her closets for her jacket with the highest collar. (It was an older jacket and precariously close to being out of fashion. She’d found an old program for a social dance in her pocket, a relic. She’d kept it and found herself reaching for it while she walked, her fingers velveting its corners.) Was she skulking? She supposed that if she were more of an unsavoury what she was doing would qualify as skulking. Hmm, how strange. 

A mere block from The Gilded Rainbow, a figure had broken away from the shadows and lurched toward her. It had looked like it could be a person, but she'd seen a faint shimmer of magick about him, so she couldn’t be sure. It had seemed to be coming toward her like it was coming for her.

Arlo had never punched a person before, and she hadn’t wanted to, but she’d seen the Professor do it. She didn’t think she could knock someone out cold like he could, but surely she could break a man’s nose and make his eyes water. She could see it in her mind’s eye: her would-be assailant holding his face while blood trickled through his fingers and she would get away to safety. 

In the end the figure lurched down an alleyway and away.  In another reality she saw a version of herself that scuttled down the alley after the stranger did something terrible to him. Tore him apart, perhaps, and lapped up the shimmer of magick she’d seen. 

Arlo relaxed her fist and shook out her hand. She’d been squeezing her thumb so, so tightly.  ##

“I want to stay with my Circle, but—“

“But you’re not sure how many more cases you can work before your body gives out, or your mind, or”—she gestured vaguely at Arlo—“whatever this is that’s happening to you.”

It was strange to be at The Gilded Rainbow without the others. Every object and surface, touched and touched again by members of Candela, held some residue of corrupted magick. The bookshop was haunted with it. 

When she’d come in she’d been greeted by someone she hadn’t met before. The man had looked at Arlo with an expression that she was still getting used to. To his credit, he had been quick to school his features into something more polite and had left to find Alexandra straight away when Arlo had asked for her. She’d looked around at the number of empty seats around the space and decided to stand in the middle of the room to wait. 

When Alexandra had entered the room, she’d moved like someone who inhabited her body fully. Arlo always felt a naked admiration toward her, the way she took up space. She tugged at the wrist of her glove, picturing herself entering a room with Alexandra’s gravity. She’d been pulled down into a seat by it when Alexandra had sat down across from her. And now here they were, deciding her future. 

Arlo smiled. “I think that I died during this last case. But only briefly! And this—” now it was her turn to gesture vaguely “— is something else completely. I think. I suppose it’s a side-effect of goetia.”

It was the wrong thing to say, of course; Arlo could tell by the way Alexandra’s brow crinkled.

“You were summoning demons?”

“More like I was un-summoning them.” Although, in the end, this last demon had been something that Arlo had wanted dearly, hadn’t it? Maybe she had summoned it without meaning to, had been summoning it, in some way since the beginning. 

“I just don’t want to be done,” Arlo tried again, “because of this.”

She couldn’t go back to who she had been before Candela Obscura, if that were even an option. Even if she could be the sort of woman she used to be, sitting in drawing rooms, drinking tea, and chattering like a bird, she couldn’t do it without thinking about everything she knew now that came from beyond the Flare. These biscuits are lovely and oh! Did you want to hear about the time I investigated a cosmic horror that had slaughtered men down by the foundry? And she couldn’t go to a sanitarium just to be trapped into clinical tidiness and enforced calm. She could never contort herself to fit into the shapes of the worlds that either of these options presented.

“It’s not any easier, being a Lightkeeper,” Alexandra said. “How do you know you’re up for it?”

“Suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m up for it. I was up for supporting my fiancé when I didn't know that he was working for the Red Hand and I wasn’t ready for it when it destroyed him. I was up for learning all sorts of rituals and lore and I wasn’t ready when it caused just as much harm as good, and I’ve seen it harm every member of my Circle.”

Alexandra sighed, out of resignation or recognition, Arlo wasn’t sure. 

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

Alexandra sighed again. She couldn’t possibly read how Arlo’s mind was racing, how she was desperate not to be turned back out into the night, how she couldn’t bear never seeing her Circle ever again, not after everything. 

“I still think that it’s going to be a shock for you. The lodgings here aren’t exactly what you’re used to. And, well, the problems that people bring are sometimes more than the mind can handle. I’m happy to have you on board but I am worried that being a Lightkeeper will swallow you whole.”

The sound that caught in Arlo’s throat wasn’t a laugh, but it was close enough. 

“So let it.”

[and-justice-for-eddie]

Hi! I’m Lizzie, longtime fandom tumblr lurker (mainly Stranger Things/Steddie, though I’ve written for other stuff too) who’s decided to make a blog so I can talk about my and others’ works :)

I’m currently working on a couple of Steddie AUs which I’m pretty excited about, so expect posting about those (though I’m a slow writer and a student, so no promises on when they might show up, lol). Looking forward to joining the community!

URL is a reference to Metallica’s …And Justice For All, and header is Roger Dean’s art from the Uriah Heep album Demons and Wizards :)

Fave fics of my own:

Through Death, My Arms Are Open [OFMD, Stede/Ed, one-shot, T]: Lightkeeper!Stede meets ghost!Ed.

Save A Prayer (Till The Morning After) [Stranger Things, Ronance, one-shot, T]: Nancy-centric introspection and a Ronance first kiss on the eve of the final battle.

The Making of a Love Story [Young Royals, Wilhelm/Simon, completed multi-chap, T]: a (s1) canon and post-canon story of them coming together, falling apart, and coming together again.

Slipping Away [Stranger Things, Eddie-centric, completed two-shot, T]: Eddie gets Vecna-d; this is what he sees, and how he escapes.

Best of the Myrmidons [The Song of Achilles, Patrochilles, one-shot, G]: Achilles’ reaction to finding out Patroclus is fated to die.

[official-lucifers-child]

that’s a yes then

The Lighthouse’s Friends

On December 15th, 1958, the lighthouse that guarded the entrance to Port Bismuth off the tip of Clarity Island went out. The iron-grey waves were peaceful that day, the unending sea calm, and the cloudy sky cast the world in a soft light that the inhabitants of Port Bismuth enjoyed immensely. There was nothing like waking up on a chilly day, knowing that the little town would be blurred and softened, the fog acting almost like the first snow of the season that hides the Earth and paints its canvas perfect and pristine in white.

The Port Bismuth Lighthouse, more commonly known as ‘Eddy’ by the locals for no clear reason— each one would tell a different story of how the lighthouse got its name, but none argued against it being called Eddy— was one of the oldest still-operational lighthouses. It was built in 1758 to mark the entrance to the harbour of Port Bismuth. It did not warn of a rocky shoreline, shallow waters, or anything of the type. It was merely a striking white and blue lighthouse that stood proud upon an island at the edge of Port Bismuth's longest pier.

On this December day, the light, a fancy electric thing that had been installed a few decades before, went out. It was a slow death, fuelled by the inability to handle such an issue, and on the morning of December 15th, the townspeople awoke to find their beloved ‘Eddy’ completely dark.

How fortunate that the day was lovely, they thought.

The lighthouse’s inhabitants, at the time, were a man and woman— brother and sister, in fact— that the people of Port Bismuth had never seen. Occasionally, curious children with too much time on their hands and too little supervision would come to the pier and see a worn wooden boat rocking by the lighthouse's tiny island. They would squeal and giggle, daring their friends to creep closer and closer to the edge of the mainland, closer and closer to the boat, until they scampered off, curiosity temporarily satisfied.

The wooden boat, of course, belonged to the siblings of the lighthouse.

When the light went out, the siblings emerged for the first time.

They looked sea-roughened and windswept, their eyes the colour of the churning waves and their calloused hands and strong limbs evidence of the work they put into the upkeep of the lighthouse. They were respectable; they were dirty; they were viewed much like the locals viewed the fog and haze.

“Those are the Keepers,” the parents told their children as the siblings strode down the main street toward the town hall.

“They’re the Lightbringers,” the fisherman said to each other, craning back in their chairs, poles and bait forgotten.

“They keep us safe,” murmured the grandparents to their grandchildren, who tugged at their trousers and begged to know what was happening.

The siblings did not stray from their path, not when a child dropped a marble that raced into the street, not when a clumsy schoolboy tripped and dropped his books beside them. They marched on, as steady as the light had once been, as steady as the confidence the town still had in them.

“The light went out,” the woman said, her voice unused and odd.

“The light went out,” the man repeated, his voice no better or worse.

“We saw it dying,” said the town’s mechanic, whose father installed the electric wiring many years ago. “I will fix it.”

The siblings left with the mechanic, who carried a bag of tools and a bag of his life. They marched back up the main street and down the worn path to the edge of the shore, where their little boat lay rocking, not tied to a post but not lost to the waters. The three climbed in, and off they went.

And that was the last time the mechanic was ever seen.

The Lightkeepers number three, now, and the light hasn’t gone out since. It marks the entrance to Port Bismuth, where the people are glad for their haze-blanketed days, and a new mechanic works to keep the town running. She took over the shop, which was found quite barren, not a worldly possession in it, when the old mechanic didn't return.

Some people wondered why the old mechanic stayed at the lighthouse after he fixed the light. Did the siblings ask him to? Did he volunteer when they came knocking at his door, so that the town would never again experience such darkness?

Whatever the reason may be, the mechanic stayed and became another Lightkeeper.

“They’re the Lighthouse’s Friends,” said a mother to her babe as she rocked the newborn to sleep. The light from the lighthouse swept over the waters, lighting the iron-grey waves and unending sea with a beam that would never go out again.

anyone wanna read a short story about a lighthouse?

[moongirldreamer]

CEE

I am in love with your lighthouse keeper Eddie Munson au!!!

Especially this paragraph:

"As he slept a voice crept into his dreams, singing a song of the sea, gently it soothed the aches from his bones and he slipped further into sleep."

FUCKING HELL HOW DO YOU WRITE SO GOOD!!!!

Thank you sm lovely you are too sweet im so glad you like it

I answered another one of your asks about it a while ago with a drawing idk if you saw it but thank you so much again for your comments you've made me whole day 💕💕

[moongirldreamer]

Lighthouse keeper!Eddie x siren!reader

Happy Eddiversary to those who celebrate (this is so late lol)

words: 1k

cw: none i don't think.

a/n: besties this is my first ever fic please be nice to me I tried my best.

Thank you to my friend @theold-ultraviolence Irma i wouldn't have come up with this au or written any of it, if it wasn't for you and our Self Indulgence Sundays. Thank you for nudging me i love you <3

Lightkeeper!Eddie headcannons

August 17 1824

It's been a week since the mysterious lass appeared on my doorstep. Two more till the supply dingy visits, it's been strange, readapting to living with a person but we’ve fallen into a routine. I've found a smile on my face many a time as I'm working. Her voice carries on the wind, it's almost as if it’s blowing it directly to me. 

E.M.

Eddie hardly counted the sailors he’d met and slept next to people, not civilized people at least, forced to wash with salt water to preserve the limited supply of fresh water. He spent many a night with a makeshift mask over his face to hopefully block out the scent of sweat and the sea but when she arrived, he found he didn't mind it, almost like he missed it. 

The keeper's house contained 2 rooms as the tending was intended to be a 2-man job, he never realized how empty the small space was until she occupied it. Grown used to the loneliness the sea brings he forgot that the ocean also gives, and she had given him a beautiful gift. He tried to be the perfect housemate before he went off to his tending. He left coffee already brewed in a small metal pot for her to reheat when she woke, fetched a bucket of water for her from the cistern and left a note on the kitchen table : back at sunset. Will cook dinner- E

Morning work was easy enough; take inventory, rain fell last night meaning the cistern had to be woken up with chalk and a good mixing and then any odd maintenance works the buildings needed. He would always know when she was awake no matter how far he wandered from their quarters, her voice seemed to carry on the wind straight to him. Often time he found himself singing along, whistling is a bad omen on ships he remembers this even on land. He knew quite a few sea shanties, picked up a few local songs while he was on the mainland, but she often sings songs he's never heard before and sometimes he thinks in a language he can't understand.

At noon he returns to a simple meal tack and stew she so proudly displays to him half burnt and over salted, but he grins and eats it anyway. She told him in the first week with misty eyes

“I don't want to be a burden, let me….. Let me cook lunch at least you work so hard let me help you” lip trembling and how could he deny her.

“The poor thing” he thought “could make anything taste like salt water and gruel” but he eats anyway.

“Thank you darling, what would i do without you?"

“You're welcome" grinning she looks down at her plate before shyly muttering

"if you're not too busy, would you like to join me on a walk at sunset?"

"OfCourse, anything for you" he smirks leaving her with a kiss on her hairline.

Sunset at the lighthouse made it seem like the sky and sea were competing for your attention, seeing which could glimmer brighter, but Eddies attention was elsewhere. He was enchanted by how her beauty seemed to be enhanced in the golden light.

"Open your hand" she blinks up at him one her fists closed tightly. Wordlessly he gives her his palm and she places an oyster shell, no longer than his pinkie, in it

He grins "an oyster?"

"Yes, my mother told me they were a sign of good fortune"

"Huh I only know them as dinner"

She laughs, mouth opening to give him a clever word or two when she suddenly goes stiff looking over his shoulder. 

"What is it?" he spins to look at what could've possibly rattled her, and behind him on a boulder is a seagull, a bit unremarkable too no missing limbs or gnarled features.

So, he laughs” You're scared of that little thing?”

“Yes, they're retched beasts of the sky with no manners” she grips his bicep keeping him between her and the bird.

“Y’know on the ships they say they’re the souls of drowned sailors, so we treat them kindly just like our human shipmates” he laughs as she moves her glare from the gull over to him.

“I think they should be chum” she says, squinting at the bird, almost daring it to attack.

In a sudden move the gull swoops over their heads missing hers by a centimeter and continuing out to sea.

"Did you see that! that that monster nearly killed me"

"Maybe you need this more than i do" he dropped the oyster back into her palm

"What? no, no i want you to have it, besides you'll need it if you're going to try befriending those creatures"

He chuckled, the sound like warm honey in the cool sea breeze. "Alright, if you insist. But I promise, no more gull attacks on my watch."

Shakily she grabbed his arm again as they continued their walk down the shoreline.

"Do you ever miss it? sailing? "

"Hmm, sometimes" he sends a wistful look out at the water the sun spilling over it as the last of it slips below the horizon.

"it was my life, the only thing I was good at" he grins, but it's sad round the edges.

"but i needed the change, it was getting too repetitive"

"so you decided to tend a lighthouse? the same job day in day out" her eyebrows pull together eyes squinting in confusion

another smile this one woven with affection "well I'd travelled a while but i needed to return to the sea almost- almost as if something was"

"Was calling you back" her tone changes, her voice becomes layered whispers singing and screaming. her eyes gleam, a secret understanding.

"Yes like-like it was calling me" he steps towards her without thinking, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other, eyes locked on hers until he feels wet? Looking down he realizes his boots are drenched, shin length in the waves his brows furrow.

"What are you doing?" asks melodic laugh behind him and he turns to see her, face lit up with the last of the afternoon glee and a smile.

"Think I wanted to go for a swim" the end lifts like a question, he looks back down to his feet barely visible in the water

"But it's getting dark, we should head back" again her voice changes and he moves without remembering, until they're back to their quarters and she bids him goodnight.

That night as he refills the oil and cleans the lense at the top of the lighthouse out in the distance on a cluster of rocks he sees a figure bathed in darkness. He can only make out a humanoid figure with their hair whipping in the cold sea air behind them. Leaning over the railing to squint into the darkness his blood runs cold as a wail crosses the distance, then a soft whisper, as if it was said over his shoulder, of his name.

"eddie"

[moongirldreamer]

living my indie sleaze era with my oc and eddie cause i cant afford to do that financially or emotionally

[moongirldreamer]

….and because I’m feeling extra self indulgent. Could we have more headcanons about your mermaid au? Because I freaking love it and want to dive (pun intended) deep into that universe! 🖤 happy self indulgent sunday!!

Aw I'm so glad you like my fever dream turned fic idea 😂 I had fun frantically googling random facts and listening to my fic inspired playlist writing this thank you for requesting this since Sunday....

Lightkeeper!Eddie x Siren!reader headcannons :)

Ex Merchant Sailor Eddie Munson is looking for a quiet life after his short lived life at sea. It was less romantic than he imagined sailing the open waves meant being marooned after storms, threat of scurvy, low rations, and taking orders instead of fending off pirates and drinking at every port.

With no family or prospects waiting for him back home he quit at the end of his 4th voyage. Settling down in the sleepy village of Leeside, but he couldn't continue ignoring the call of the sea. 

So when a light keeper position opened up, on account of the last keepers mysterious disappearance, he applied. Ignoring the locals warning of every keeper either going mad or disappearing completely, some say they filled their pockets with stones and walked into the sea unable to withstand the light of the tower others say the sea witch seduced them taking them into the depths to be devoured.

The sea witch, a legend passed down generations only having been seen by passing sailors and keepers driven far over the edge of sanity. Both giving fantastical recounts of a woman dancing casting shadows in the tower light or on the beach, piercing eyes that seem to cut through fog, smile sickly sweet and her voice honey sweetened salt water. 

His first week of isolation went by without problem, this is what they couldn't handle he thought a bit of quiet, but soon his quiet would be interrupted by singing? 

As he slept a voice crept into his dreams, singing a song of the sea, gently it soothed the aches from his bones and he slipped further into sleep.

Days later a woman would appear on the doorstep of his tower, heaving large breaths, drenched, gown sticking to her skin. Crying over her lost family, victims of the sea, only she managed to escape the riptide by staying afloat on a piece of debris. “Thank goodness the tide took pity on me and brought me to your light. I dont think i had much longer out there in those cold, unforgiving waves” 

Are these headcannons or did i just write the first draft of the first chapter lol