#pirate!steve harrington

[wheneverfeasible]

pirate!Steddie AU

wc: 2.5k || rated: M (to be safe) || cw: reference to suicide, non-consent, and other general piratey things || ao3

When one thought of the phrase ‘Pirate King’ there were always certain expectations involved. An older pirate, grizzled and uncaring beyond his own interests, vicious with blade and pistol, quick to stain his hands red with anyone he deemed foe. To be fair, that had been his father.

The former Pirate King was truly a degenerate, disgraced nobility who stole from his provinces, who cheated and lied and stole from commoners and royalty alike. His failed coup would have had him and his young pregnant wife on trial for treason had he not escaped to the sea on a pirate ship with what portable wealth he had managed to secret away.

He had taken his wife along, at first, before dumping her at some port town to focus on his new rise to power. And rise he did over the next decade.

He was cunning, and ruthless, and he knew the tricks of the trade from how often he had hunted pirates in the past. He made a name for himself, dubbed The Fallen Noble, until that had not been enough for him. No, this time, he was determined not to fail the coup.

Eventually the Pirate King before him fell to his blade and he took it upon himself to pick up the crown, striking fear across sea and land both. His exploits were well-known, his viciousness the stuff of nightmares, and his taste for violence bloodthirsty. He had gone back to his wife and young son then, had stopped by occasionally during his rise though his son feared each one of those stops, and swept them away back into the world of deceit and power.

The son, only a young boy at the time, was raised like a prince, the Pirate Prince, and taught to be just as cruel and bloodthirsty as his father. And for a time, he was. The boy’s mother tragically passed away one fateful night when she was swept off the bow during a storm, though for the life of him the boy did not remember any such storm that night.

The boy, though raised first in negligence and then in violence, secreted the softness in his heart away, playing the role given to him to the point where he almost started believing it himself. Until he fell in love.

She had been stolen from her home with her young brother, with the boy meant to be inscripted into service while she was meant to be a prize for the Pirate Prince. She was unlike anyone he had ever known before and it wasn’t hard to fall in love with her. She would not be cowed, however, and he was not his father who took what was not freely given.

However, despite his love for her, in truth she loved another.

It would have been all too easy to dispose of the boy who held her heart, but that thick shell he had hidden within to be his father’s son had been cracked beyond repair. He aided her in her and her brother’s escape, watching the small boat drift away from his father’s ship and exchanging a solemn nod with the boy she loved who had come to rescue them.

His mask would no longer fit, he could no longer be who he had once pretended to be, and it was then that the boy became a man and in an act of defiance fought and slew his own father to end his tyranny once and for all. This young man stood above his father’s corpse as the new Pirate King.

Despite his young age, the Pirate King was not to be underestimated. When a mutiny rose of his father’s crew who remained loyal to the fallen tyrant and those who sought the power for their own greedy hands, the young man stood firm and dispatched those who coveted his crown. He would not bow to another monster.

Imagine his surprise when, only a year under his crown, the young brother of the girl he’d once loved returned to him to join his crew of his own free will. He did not come alone either, bringing with him a small pack of youths who wanted more than what society dictated for them, who heard of the fabled Pirate King, youngest in history, who refused to be the evil that had been his father and who protected those who bent the knee.

Though they had nothing in common, the Pirate King felt a kinship with these brave youths who wanted more, wanted to be more, and who stubbornly would not take heed when he tried to banish them off the ship. There was fierceness in their eyes, a hunger he knew all too well, and so while it at times made him feel more like a babysitter than a Pirate King with their youthful exuberance, he could do nothing but accept their honest fealty.

Along the way he met other wayward souls, including the sister of one of his greater rivals and the daughter of the man currently spearheading the hunt for pirates, as well as the young woman so desperate for a life of freedom, a life to be herself, that she soon found her way to being his second-in-command and who was almost as feared as he was.

Well. Feared by everyone except her and the youths he’d taken under his wing.

“Captain Dingus, sir, the rodent is on board.”

Steve Harrington, Pirate King and Captain of the Loch Nora, glanced up from where he was carefully sliding his dagger against the stone in his hand, a less than pleased expression pulling at his face at his quartermaster’s continued insubordination. He only sighed, however, since she at least had the decency to only do so when they were alone or among very select company.

Dropping his feet from his desk where he was leaning back in his thick, ornate chair that was more like a throne than anything else, Steve stood as he wiped his blade on a scrap of cloth before sliding it into home on his belt.

“Come now, Buck. He’s at the very least a snake,” he teasingly reprimanded with a grin as he moved towards her to follow her out of his cabin. “And just like one, he may be crawling on his belly soon enough if he isn’t prepared to pay off his debt.”

Robin was uncharacteristically quiet at that, and when Steve glanced over at her, he could see her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. He raised his brows at that under the swoop of his hair, something telling him that he was going to find something far more interesting than the coin the man in question owed them. Whether that something interesting was going to be good or not was still to be decided.

It took only moments to move onto the deck of his ship, eyeing his crew as they stood encircling the kneeling figure in the middle. No. The kneeling figures.

Steve cast a quick glance Robin’s way at the sight before them, taking in not a chest or even bag of coins to pay off the man’s debt, but rather a younger man around Steve’s own age, bound and gagged kneeling next to the proverbial snake.

“Munson,” Steve drawled, and both pairs of dark eyes snapped to him. It was almost uncanny, making the resemblance even more obvious between the two kneeling men.

Alan Munson gave Steve a briefly panicked looked, before his mask of bravado settled over his features and he, neither bound nor gagged, shot Steve a smile that might have soothed his ruffled feathers had he not grown impervious to such looks thanks to his younger crew members’ own beguiling smiles. Munson clasped a hand over his chest above his heart.

“My liege, it is an honor to see you once more,” the older man formally intoned, bowing his head as though Steve were a real king and not just one who roamed the seas. His tone was light though, only the slightest tremor and the sweet dotting his brow belied the man’s nervousness.

Steve stopped in front of the two men, resting his weight on one leg as he brought his hands to settle on his hips. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he took in the tableau before him. Alan tried to meet his gaze with confidence he obviously did not feel, his eyes skittering away whenever Steve glanced at him, while the younger man glared up at Steve with all he was worth.

The young man’s eyes were rimmed with red, glassy in the way that spoke of past tears, and his thin chest heaved with the emotions swirling in his brown eyes so deep they were nearly black. The glare was not reserved only for Steve, however, as those dark eyes kept landing on Munson with anger and heartbreak and betrayal.

“Tell me, Munson. Are you hiding my money somewhere on your body in a questionable location, or are you planning on being another stain on my deck?” Steve said in an almost conversational way, though he had to withhold a snort as both pairs of identical dark eyes moved as one to look down at the dark stain inches from where they kneeled.

(The stain was actually due to Robin’s clumsiness spilling her dinner one night, but it made for a good impression.)

Munson recovered first with his smile only slightly shakier than it had been. He looked up at Steve in what he obviously hoped was a charming as disarming way. “I would never do you the disservice of cheating you, your majesty,” he said, and Steve might have believed him had the man not been infamously known in town to be a swindler and a cheat.

Munson’s eyes darted over to the younger man beside him before looking back up at Steve. “I regret that I don’t have your money at the moment—but I have something better!” he hastened to add on when the sound of drawn steel began ringing out as the surrounding pirates began drawing their various blades.

Steve held up a hand halting his overzealous crew mates, though he had to suppress a smile as well. Though most of the youngsters had once been squeamish at the darker aspects of the pirate lifestyle, they had since grown accustomed to the needs and requirements Steve placed on them. It helped that Steve did not needlessly shed blood, even when faced with the likes of Alan Munson.

“I am a very particular man, Munson. You will find that when I request my coin, it is not a request at all, nor am I interested in substitutions,” Steve's tone continued to drawl, though it became sharper towards the end as his wrist moved to settle meaningfully over the hilt of his sword at his waist.

Munson swallowed thickly with a jerking nod. “I understand, your majesty,” he rushed to say, before settling his hand on the young man’s shoulder beside him, causing said young man to flinch away with a shout muffled by the cloth in his mouth. When he tried to jerk away, two strong hands moved to force him back to his knees, courtesy of Steve’s crew.

Steve did not so much as bat an eye, merely lifting a brow to encourage Munson to continue. Without looking remorseful at all, he did so.

“My son, Edward,” Munson clarified, indicating the young man beside him though he did not reach out to touch him again. “I offer my own flesh and blood, my only child and son, into your generous hands. He is a hard worker, stronger than he appears, and capable of whatever task you set him.” There was not even a hint of a trace of hesitation on Munson’s face as he sold his own some out. “I give him to you to cover my debt, whether you keep him or sell him for profit.”

More angry, muffled noises came from the young man, from Edward Munson, son of Alan Munson, who was being treated as little more than chattel now and a bargaining trip to clear his father’s debt. Steve wanted nothing more than to slide his blade through Munson’s neck in that moment. His face hardened, but he let a deceptive smile curl over his lips.

Steve was, in the end, a pirate. And the Pirate King himself at that. His hands were hardly clean. The idea that a father would sell their child into slavery just to save their own neck, however, seemed far more evil than anything he had ever done, up to and including killing his own father.

Stepping towards the bound young man, Steve reached out to grasp the young man’s chin, squeezing sharply when Munson Jr. tried to jerk away. He angled the young man’s hand this way and that to examine him, before roughly releasing him to face the elder Munson.

“I will accept this trade only with a provision,” Steve began, Munson’s ecstatic expression dropping to one of wariness as Steve’s tone turned darker. “If your son does not perform his duties properly, or if he does not return to me what your owe with interest, I will gut him like a dog in front of you before doing the very same to you. Do I make myself clear, Munson?”

Munson’s eyes widened, his face rapidly paling, but he was nodding quickly once more. “Y-yes, I understand, your majesty. He won’t disappoint.”

“Let us hope so, for your benefit.” Steve glanced at the crew behind the kneeling man with a subtle jerk of his chin, the silent communication having them hauling him roughly to his feet and shoving him towards the boat they’d dragged him in on. Steve then cast his eyes towards Robin. For the benefit of the bound man still kneeling before him, he spoke his next order out loud, despite Robin already knowing what he would say.

“Mr. Buckley, see to it that Mr. Munson is left with a reminder as to why it’s important to always pay your debts promptly and fully,” he said with a small smirk, dropping his gaze to the young man who was struggling against his bonds and gag, his eyes desperately on his father. “Just something he can live without. Maybe a toe, or his little pinky finger,” he grinned.

Robin unsheathed her own blade strapped to her thigh with a dark grin of her own. “Gladly, Captain,” she replied with a nod, and he knew he would soon hear the pleasant music of a scream of fear and pain.

Steve’s eyes cut to the pirates holding Munson Jr. down. “Let’s be gracious hosts and escort our guest here to his quarters,” he said, tone ripe with sarcasm. “And then let’s get the hell out of here once the riffraff is gone.” He smiled as, at that moment, Munson’s scream filled the air, causing Munson Jr. to flinch as Keith hauled him to his feet and began pushing him to the brig below deck.

Steve had been correct, he thought as he gazed out to the sea, feeling the winds of change in the air. Munson’s payment had been interesting. Now he just had to decide what he wanted to do with his payment.

To be continued…

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

[szczurherbacany]

hmm

[emchant3d]

They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.

It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.

He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate. 

He isn’t expecting a mer.

Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.

And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.

Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?

It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.

He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back. 

His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.

It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.

“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.

“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.

There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.

The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.

Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair. 

And he’s a mer, but different.

“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.” 

“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.

“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him. 

He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.

“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.

It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead. 

It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.

The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.

Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.

He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.

Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.

He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.

“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.

“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.

“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh. 

“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.

part 2 💕

[corrodedcoughin]

eddie going in to scoops ahoy dressed as a pirate and saying he’s here to ‘plunder scoops’ treasure chest of ice cream yarhar’ only he gets to the counter and it’s Steve serving, not Robin. He was expecting Robin. What comes out of his mouth is ‘I’m here for your pleasure chest’. Cue eddie turning on his heel, walking out of scoops and sitting himself down in the fountain of the food court, hugging his knees while the corroded coffin boys throw pennies at him.

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

[ladykailitha]

My steddie brain never rests. And neither will I!! Bwahahahaha! *cough cough* Sorry about that.

Eddie is a pirate captain. He is a known terror of the Seven Seas. His ship The Hellfire is known by its fearsome Jolly Roger. The skull has devil's horns and has a cutlass and musket on either side.

His first mate is Jeff and his cabin boy is Dustin.

He has a very dedicated crew. They are loyal to a fault and fiercely protective of their captain.

He is a thorn in the side of Lt. Jason Carver. The man tasked to bring him in.

Eddie has been captured a few times, but always his crew mounts a daring escape.

Final Eddie is caught and Carver isn't going to wait until morning to hang him and give his crew time to save him. He knows he'll catch hell for it later, but Eddie must be stopped.

When Carver comes to get him, he finds Eddie looking out the window at the night sky.

"Praying, Munson?" he sneers. "I didn't think your kind believed in God."

Eddie shakes his head. "No God. I worship starlight."

"Starlight?" Carver mocks. "What's so special about starlight?"

"When the moon is new and the stars stretch on forever," Eddie explains a little breathless, never taking his eyes from the window high above him, "you can find your way if you let the North Star lead you. That's what I believe in. The North Star."

Carver scoffs. "You sound like you're in love with a distant twinkle, Munson. I always knew you were mad, but this takes the cake."

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. "Oh that I could love a star, that it could love me back."

Carver motions to his men and they haul him to his feet.

They take him out to the scaffold where the noose is waiting for him. They put the rope around his neck and he whispers. "Goodbye, sweetheart."

Tears run down his face as they tighten the noose. He closes his eyes.

But before they could pull the handle that would send Eddie plummeting to his death a bright light appears blinding everyone but Eddie because his eyes were closed.

He feels a soft warm hand touch his cheek. "Keep your eyes closed for me, won't you?"

Eddie nods. He doesn't know what's going on but even through his eyelids he can tell the light is too bright.

Suddenly there are sounds of screaming and of people being ripped apart. Eddie squeezes his eyes further shut.

Then the rope is being removed from his neck. "Don't open your eyes yet, love," the warm voice murmurs in his ear.

Eddie shivers but not because of the chill of the night, but because the voice sent a sharp thrill straight to his gut.

Then he's being picked up and carried bridal style. Whoever this is keeps telling him he's all right, that he's safe now.

He get set down gently on his feet.

"You may open your eyes now."

And Eddie does only to be greeted by the most ethereal being he's ever seen.

His hair is dark brown with golden highlights and he has hazel eyes. He's wearing robes that shimmer in the light and he gives off a subtle glow.

"Thank you," Eddie murmurs.

The man gives him a gentle kiss. "I will always watch out for you, my beloved Eddie."

"What's your name?"

"Stella Polaris."

Then in a flash he's gone. He makes it back to his ship and tells them the tale.

They don't believe him at first but whenever a battle is turning against them, a light flashes, blinding their enemies and ensuring their victory.

Eddie makes it back to England and is talking to a scholar, getting the old man drunk in a bar.

He says he's an amateur astronomer and Eddie pumps he for information because of his own love of the stars. And he brings up the North Star.

"Ah," the old man says with a nod. "Stella Polaris, the star that is polar. The one star in the sky you can always rely."

And Eddie is floored. His rescuer was the actual North Star.

That night laying in bed at the inn, Eddie says, "My own star. Well, I'll be damned."

Then Stella Polaris arrives in his room.

Eddie leaps from the bed and kisses him senseless.

"Stella Polaris is a bit of a mouthful for every day, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs between heated kisses. "What should I scream when you fuck me?"

The star laughs. "You can call me Steve."

"Well, come on, then, Stevie," Eddie coos wagging his eyebrows. "The night is young and I have been aching for you since you rescued me."

They tumble into the bed and have sex. The next morning comes, and Eddie wakes up to find a small little starburst scar just a above his heart that he'll later get tattooed.

For the star that fell in love with a pirate and the pirate who loved it back.

[sparkle-fiend]

Finally finished this mermay piece!! (Better late than never right?)

[marya-blackbone]

sexy pirate!eddie and merman!steve?

it works because:

- steve is a great swimmer

- eddie just gives sexy pirate vibes and his ship would be called the corroded coffin

- i can see steve combing his hair on a rock flirtatiously and eddie running aground... probably on purpose

- i’m sure i had more ideas but i distracted myself with that last point

[imfinereallyy]

Steve Harrington was not a treasure.

His family had treasure for sure: more gold than they could count, family jewels passed down from generation to generation, and an estate with more rooms than servants. But Steve himself was nothing worthwhile.

Women were worth something; well… daughters were. In Steve’s mind, it all seemed a bit twisted. The women he knew were only as good as their selling price, not seen for their minds or strength. It confounded him most days, considering they could rule better than he ever could. They probably should rule instead. Still, in most family’s eyes, although their worth was demeaning, but it was still worth.

Steve Harrington didn’t hold any value. Most saw him at best as the damaged heir, broken and bruised beyond repair. Others saw him at worst as his father saw him, as a disappointment who would only make good helping running the ship under the man Richard wished was his son.

Steve was almost certain he could be lost at sea, and no one would ever bat an eye.

So Steve is baffled, really, when one of the few times his ships is back in port and he stays a rare night in his family’s estate.

Perplexed when the rooms are broken into and raided in the time before dawn by the ruthless crew of Hellfire, that they come looking for more than gold. He is baffled, and downright alarmed when, instead of killing Steve as they had for many of the guards, they rip him away and steal him, much like the gold that lined the halls.

And when he meets the dreaded Captain Munson for the first time, where he brushes a thumb across the scar on Steve’s lip…Steve can’t help but be stunned into silence when Munson mutters under his breath, “Looks like we found our hidden treasure.”

[flowercrowngods]

"Captain."

The quill scratches roughly along the page, too aggressive for the paper softened and hardened over time by wear and tear and seawater air. Ink spills, making a mess of the log's entry, splotching over fingers and staining them almost black in the cabin's dim light, a flame flickering in its hold to the right, unaware of the tension in the air. Unaware of the captain's rapidly beating heart and his hands clenching around the quill until he fears it might break.

Although the fear he feels is not on behalf of the quill in his hand.

"Captain."

His first mate is insistent on gaining his attention, but he refuses to acknowledge that she already has it. He knows it can only mean one thing if she comes to him at this hour, if she seeks him out despite clear orders – or, rather, because of them.

"Steve."

He looks up, his jaw clenched, and the quill breaks, spilling ink all over his palm where the sharp tip is cutting into his skin with a spark of pain that pales in comparison to what he can find in her features.

Robin nods, imperceptible to every other soul in this universe. Every soul that is not him, attuned to her every move, every twitch of a brow, every hint of a frown, and every gesture that she dares him to overlook if only to have an excuse later on.

But she nods. And Steve swallows.

"It's him. He's back."

It's the captain who nods now, incapable of doing anything else, and feeling as his sanity slips away from him, through the cracks in the floorboards and sinking down to the bottom of the ocean to join his heart and his conscience. All have long been lost at the cause of one man.

"Thank you," he says, though his voice does not feel like his own, and the candle beside him flickers once more as if to signal that, really, he shouldn't be sounding like that. He blinks, deliberately, because he has been staring for too long and she doesn't need to know that he has been losing himself since the second she appeared at the door.

"Steve–"

"That's Captain to you."

She swallows, defiant, but choosing her battles wisely. He is grateful, for he hasn't the strength to argue any more than he has the strength to stand upright in this moment.

"Captain," she says, deliberate but gentle, because she knows and she forgives. "Are you alright?"

"No," Steve says, and his voice remains remarkably steady in this confession. "I'll be out in a second. Make sure they do not to say a word to him. Shoot everyone who does, or throw them overboard. Nobody talks to The– to Munson but me. Understood?"

"Understood," she says, straightening her posture, though her eyes remain worried and wary. There is more she wants to say, but Steve dismisses her before leaning his fists on the table and breathing deeply. The tip of the quill buries deeper into his palm and he closes his fingers around it, hard, to keep himself anchored and distract from one pain with another.

Theo is back. Theodore Munson. Though he will have a new name, Steve knows. But those eyes... Those eyes never changed, not once in all this time, and Steve fears that he will break apart if he has to look at them again and find no ounce of recognition. No memory of words whispered in the dark, of gentle touches to roughest scars, of time spent together in different lifetimes.

Steve plucks the tip soiled in ink and blood from his palm and reaches for a book hidden underneath a false bottom in the first drawer of the desk. A book with the initials T M pressed into fine, deep red leather.

He writes, with blood and ink in unsteady hold,

27th March He came is back. I wish he weren't.

@vampeddie remember me talking about this before i disappeared? remember how you went insane? remember that you like me?

[szczurherbacany]

its mermay so an obligatory siren eddie is in place 🫡

[emchant3d]

siren steve and pirate eddie, part 2 pt 1

Steve heals slowly.

He’s irritable and restless, bedridden, and he doesn’t have the strength in his injured tail to support himself if he were to be tossed back into the ocean.

The crew helps him to the deck for a change of scenery and some sunshine - he seems more settled when he can hear the waves and feel the sun on his skin. He’s less snappish, at least, those sharp teeth tucked away behind his pink lips instead of bared in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie had panicked briefly about how much saltwater Steve needs, and he’d rolled his eyes at him. “Keep it near and I’ll be fine,” he tells him. “Half human remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “but the fish part is looking a little dry, sweetheart.” 

Steve slaps him with a tail fin.

He finds himself spending most days with the Mer. Part of it is pure fascination - it’s difficult to not want to spend time around a story come to life. And if he neglects his duties as Captain a little, well - that’s what his crew is for.

Slowly, he pulls more from Steve. He finds out what caused his injuries - “the deep holds a lot of creatures that like the taste of Mer,” he tells him. “I swam right into a nest. By the time I realized, they already had me by the throat and were dragging me to the seabed.”

“Gods,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve hums in agreement. “Evil little things. Razor sharp claws and teeth, and their tails are like whips. They move in schools, so if there’s one, there’s dozens others.”

He speaks of these kinds of creatures so casually, monsters that have worked their way into human lore and others that are unknown to them, but the idea of them still makes Eddie’s skin crawl.

It’s like Steve has a sixth sense for his discomfort. He’s lounging in a long basin Freak and Jeff put together, a shallow amount of salt water in it to keep him comfortable, and he rolls his head to the side, peering up at Eddie.

“They probably wouldn’t turn down a human, either,” he muses, dragging those unnervingly deep eyes up and down him, “but your little lungs wouldn’t survive that deep down, so you’re probably fine.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie snorts, and Steve breaks into a laugh.

As friendly as they’re becoming, Eddie knows Steve still doesn’t fully trust him. He’s excellent at reading people - he knows when someone is keeping secrets, and Steve is locked tight.

He doesn’t blame him. He knows it’s difficult to believe Eddie’s help doesn’t come with strings, and he catches Steve watching him and his crew sometimes, tense and on edge as if he’s waiting for someone to lash out at him.

Eddie hates it. But he doesn’t know how to settle him, not fully, and so maybe the solution is to craft those strings he’s looking so hard to find. Let him find what he’s looking for, but show him that they aren’t as bad as he’s built them up to be in that pretty head of his.

“So what other gifts are you blessed with, Highness?” he asks one cloudy day, the sky gloomy and overcast. A little rain won’t hurt them, but he’s hoping the darker clouds on the horizon will dissipate before they reach them and upend a true storm.

“Divination,” Steve says like he’s bored, and Eddie’s head whips around to stare at him. Steve holds his gaze, his own a little hooded, and he yawns softly.

“What,” Eddie asks flatly. Steve waves a hand dismissively. 

“Just about the ocean,” he says, like that isn’t still one of the most incredible things Eddie’s ever heard. “I can tell when danger’s near. When something isn’t quite right. Whole lot of good it did me,” he snorts, glancing down at his scarred torso.

The bandages have been removed, and pink skin is healing slowly where there used to be gaping wounds. His tail is faring much the same, scales missing from where he’d been bitten and ripped at, but the new flesh is beginning to blend in with the bright shades of his lower half.

“Everything was dangerous down there, I just tried to pick the safest option. I’m still pretty sure I chose right.” Eddie frowns. “You were almost eaten alive,” he says, can’t help it, and Steve cuts him a lazy smile.

“Almost,” he repeats, and Eddie supposes that’s an answer.

He takes a breath, calms his heart, and tries to act like the Captain he is. “So, if you stuck around, you’d be able to tell me what I’m heading towards.” Steve closes his eyes and lets his head hang back, arms resting on the sides of the basin. 

“Yes.” A cloud sweeps over them, blocking the sun from shining on Steve’s face, casting him in shadows. “I could tell you if you were sailing into an ambush, or if the waters were acting up, or any number of other useful little tips that could keep you and your crew alive.”

“You’ve thought about this,” he says, and Steve snorts.

“Of course I have. I have no home. No family. Going alone almost got me killed. I’m pretty but I’m not dumb, Eddie.” He opens his eyes, fixing his gaze onto Eddie’s. “So how about we make a deal?” he offers, and Eddie grins.

It’s an easy negotiation. Steve wants freedom. He wants to see the world. And he wants safety while he does it. Eddie wants an advantage, wants to keep his crew safe, wants them to thrive in this difficult life they’ve chosen.

They shake on it. Steve moves lightning fast as their hands meet, a sharp claw nicking his own palm and then Eddie’s, making him hiss.

“Fuck–” he grunts. A burning sensation shoots through him from hand to chest, fire hot and searing. He gasps, fingers locked around Steve’s, who stares at him impassively. “What…?”

“You’ve made an oath with a Mer,” Steve says simply. “You’ll be held to your word, Captain Munson.”

Eddie pulls his hand away and looks at his palm. 

A black mark surrounds the cut from Steve’s claw, a swirling spiral that snakes from the center of his palm in three little loops. Steve holds his hand out without being asked, showing the matching mark on his own skin.

Eddie’s no stranger to ink and tattoos, but this is decidedly different. It hums with an ancient kind of magic, a connection that he doesn’t - can’t - understand. Something unnameable settles into his bones.

This is a test, he realizes. Or maybe it’s insurance. Either way, it’s something Steve felt necessary to take Eddie at his word, and so he won’t ask questions - not yet, at least.

“Well, I’ve had worse deals, I guess,” he says, and when he meets Steve’s eyes again, some of the caution has seeped out of them. 

Eddie’s sure there’s more to be found out about this creature in front of him, but contrary to popular belief, he can be patient when it counts. 

For now he’ll take what he’s offered - a wary friendship. A slow-growing understanding. And a certain type of care, of gentleness, that curls warm within him and grows with every smile and soft look that Steve throws his way.

part 3 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Part Three

Part One | Part Two

I got side-lined by the Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins fic for a hot minute (that big boi is at, like, 73k; he hefty), but here's the next part!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

In the port city of Socotra, past the first big plaza and down a few side streets, is a small two-story shop with a sign that reads "C. C. Elixirs and Solutions." The shop is owned by a very nice young witch named Chrissy Cunningham who, currently, is doing her absolute best to not laugh in Eddie's face as he spins his tale of accidentally entering into courtship with a merman.

"Anyway," Eddie says, pacing in front of the counter with his hands splayed and his hair a mess, "I was wondering if you'd have anything that could help me."

Chrissy covers her mouth, swallowing down the bursts of laughter threatening to bubble up her throat. After a moment, she asks, "With what, exactly?"

Eddie turns to look at her, gesturing to the shop as a whole. "C’mon, Chrissy, you gotta have something here for me, right? Like, I don't know, a fucking manual or whatever."

"Of course I don't have a...," Chrissy trails off, frowning slightly as she looks at the storeroom door behind her. She's getting a very familiar feeling. It settles at the top of her spine like a shiver that's just waiting and waiting to happen but never does. Usually, this means something.

"Give me a second," she says, barely hearing Eddie's agreement before she heads into the back.

Her storeroom is a chaotic mess that only makes sense to Chrissy. Precarious stacks of books are randomly scattered across the floor, some of them holding plants or knickknacks on top. A few tables are filled with potion ingredients, magical artifacts that still need cataloging, half-filled notebooks, and dozens of pens. A few bookcases line the walls, and Chrissy wanders over to one of them.

She scans the spines, passing over books about fae marriage customs, common selkie family traditions, and in-depth essays analyzing Phoenix mating dances. Finally, her gaze lands on a thin, unassuming book. Its cover is made of sea-foam green leather, with waves etched into the spine instead of words. When Chrissy pulls it off the shelf, the front cover is blank. She doesn't remember getting this book, but this can happen in magic shops. Sometimes items just appear where they know they'll be needed.

Chrissy flips the book open, landing on the front page and grinning at the dedication that reads, "To all the hapless fools in love with a sea dragon's descendant. Here's to hoping you don't royally fuck it up."

Yeah, that's perfect.

She heads back to the front of the shop, immediately noticing that Eddie has placed trinkets and rocks on the counter. She recognizes a few of her protection charms (made of genuine silver, she'd like to add), some quartz of varying colors, and a ring set with a prismatic shard. Chrissy stares at the items before looking up at Eddie with a raised eyebrow.

"Stevie would love all of these," Eddie says, shrugging with absolutely no remorse or shame as he drops a coin purse onto the counter.

Chrissy sighs and digs a few coins out, ensuring they're all gold and all real by biting them before nodding. "You know, land-based magical items don't actually work on merfolk," she says, pushing the purse back to Eddie as she places the book on the counter as well. "So those protection charms and that prismatic ring won't do anything for him."

"Yeah, but they're pretty. He'll like them," Eddie insists. He then notices the book, and his eyes light up hopefully. "Did you find something?"

"Yep, seems to be exactly what you need," she says, sliding it closer to him and watching as he opens it to a random page.

"A common practice among merfolk is to collect trinkets during their pod's travels. Some trinkets won't be personally interesting to the merperson, but can be later used as courting gifts if they're relevant to the intended mate's interests or likes," Eddie reads, tilting his head slightly with a genuine interest that Chrissy usually only sees when he discusses new songs he's learned during his travels.

"Consider that one on the house. But I expect to meet this merman once you've finished your honeymoon phase," Chrissy says, pulling out a small velvet bag and placing the other items inside.

She gives it to Eddie, smiling once more when he nods, digs into his pockets, and drops another small pouch onto the counter. "Almost forgot. Here's some of that 500 year old ginseng you mentioned before," he says.

Chrissy blinks, staring at the pouch. Before she can say anything (like, for example, demanding to know how Eddie got his hands on so much of such a rare ingredient that only the most qualified of practitioners can even dream about seeing), Eddie has gathered his things and practically run out of the shop with a hurried goodbye thrown over his shoulder.

Excerpt from "The Lovelorn Fool's Guide to Merfolk Courtship"

The most important thing to know about courting merfolk is the levels of courtship, of which there are three. In order, they are:

Gift-giving: merfolk collect various trinkets throughout their life, including items they personally do not find interesting. Upon finding a potential mate, they will go through their collection and gift items they think the potential mate will like. To learn more about trinket collection, refer to Part II.

Harmonizing: unsurprisingly, singing is important to merfolk. In addition to being an enjoyable pastime, singing is another mode of communication. The ability to harmonize with a potential mate is vital, as it proves the two are well-matched. To learn more about song types, refer to Part III.

Pod Introduction: the final stage of merfolk courtship, pod introduction is the most important. Pods are sacred, and introducing a potential mate to the pod is an incredible show of trust and commitment. To learn more about pods and their structure, refer to Part IV.

Of these levels, gift-giving often takes the longest. Some merfolk give hundreds of gifts before moving to harmonizing, and others give one. Be patient and try to return each gift you receive.

While these are the levels of courtship, the actual establishment of mateship (consider this the merfolk equivalent of marriage, only it's far more permanent), involves the gifting of scales.

You can find more on this in Part V.

----

Steve stares longingly at the small window in Eddie's cabin, tracking the clouds and lingering on birds that soar by. He knows he can't be on the deck when they've docked, but scales, he's bored.

Are his guppies bored, too? Do they still play games, or are they too worried about Steve to sweep through the waters? Has Robin lost a few scales from exhaustion and stress? How quickly after hugging him is she going to kill him for being away for so long?

With a sigh, Steve drags his eyes away from the window and looks at his tail. Kelp is still wrapped around the wound, but he knows it's almost healed. He can flick his fins without hurting, and the wound has mostly scabbed over, fresh scales beginning to creep over the cut. Maybe a few more nights, and Steve will be ready to jump back into the ocean and find his pod and guppies again.

But that would mean leaving Eddie behind, and...Steve really doesn't want to do that. Because Eddie is the closest Steve has ever actually come to finding a potential mate.

He starts to sink into the water to submerge his head beneath the surface so his disgruntled and stressed air bubbles can rise from his gills. Before he can fully slide under the surface, though, Steve hears the familiar sound of Eddie's excited, hurried footsteps.

Steve perks up, gripping the edge of the tub as Eddie slams into the door, cursing at the pain as he opens it and stumbles inside. He looks at Steve immediately, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide and a grin tugging at his lips to reveal dimples. He's carrying a small pouch in one hand and a book with a sea-foam green cover in the other.

"Stevie!" he says, kicking the door closed and walking over to the tub, "I got you stuff."

With that, Eddie crouches in front of the tub and holds the pouch out to Steve. He doesn't seem to notice how Steve's gills flutter, air pushing out in an excited, flustered pattern that would have made Robin tease him. Eddie doesn't know that, though, so Steve tries to ignore his gills and takes the pouch.

He opens it carefully, his gaze immediately caught on a ring set with a rainbow-colored stone. Steve's eyes widen, his mind swirling around the pretty color and how well it matches his tail and how it looks to be the perfect size and how it would still glitter even when Steve is deeper than the sun can reach.

He pulls the ring out, turning it over a few times before sliding it onto his left ring finger. He was right; it fits perfectly. It has a strange but ultimately harmless magic attached to it. Steve grins brightly, a small, barely noticeable hum bubbling from his throat as he looks back into the bag.

He pulls out each rock, studies them intently, and approves of their color and shimmer. With a nod, Steve places them carefully in the tub, clustering them on the left side of his tail, the side further from the door, for protection.

Finally, Steve pulls out a few of the protection charms. They're small and made of a material Steve immediately recognizes as something that tarnishes in water. He really likes them, though, and it would be a shame to not use them for something.

"Eddie," he says, looking up to see Eddie staring at him, his excited smile turning dopey.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his arms on the tub.

Steve leans forward, taking a lock of Eddie's hair and studying it carefully. After a few seconds, he decides it's good enough. "Turn around?" he asks, his gills fluttering again when Eddie does so without question. After taking a second to calm himself, Steve asks, "Can I do your hair?"

Eddie hums, leaning his neck on the rim of the tub, giving Steve full access to his hair, the ends of which are dipping into the water. "Of course, Stevie. Whatcha wanna do?" he asks.

"It's a surprise," Steve tells him, moving some until he's partially sitting on his tail so he can properly face Eddie's hair. He places the pouch on the edge of the tub, letting it precariously balance, before running his fingers through Eddie's hair.

He's done this enough times for Max to know how to fix tangles without pulling. As he works, Steve relaxes, falling into a familiar rhythm, and starts to hum softly. It's a lullaby, one that he doesn't get to sing the guppies to sleep with anymore, but they tolerate it when he's caring for wounds or helping them scrub their tails or braiding their hair.

Steve divides Eddie's hair into sections and starts braiding. Every other inch, Steve takes one of the charms from the pouch and braids it into Eddie's hair. By the time he's done, the braid is decorated with silver charms, standing out nicely against Eddie's brown hair.

"Okay," he says, using a thin piece of kelp to tie off the braid, "It looks good."

Eddie hums, reaching back and carefully running his fingers over the braid. Steve watches, suppressing the urge to grab Eddie's hand. "Did you not like them?" Eddie asks, dropping his hand and turning around. The charms clink against each other, creating a quiet song that makes Steve's heart light and happy.

"I liked them," Steve says, pushing the pouch on the edge of the tub into Eddie's lap. "They tarnish in water, though. And their magic felt too strange. They look better on you."

"So, you gave me a gift?" Eddie asks, his smile hopeful and his eyes bright. Steve can't help returning the smile with a nod. In response, Eddie leans forward even further, like he's acting on impulse more than anything else, and presses his lips to Steve's cheek.

Steve's eyes widen, his gills burst, and his ear fins flare in response. To the untrained (human) eye, his reaction is similar to a cat puffing and bristling when faced with a threat. To the trained eye (Robin. And other merfolk, but mostly Robin), Steve's reaction is entirely common for especially flustered merfolk.

It's never happened to Steve before, and that just makes him feel more flustered. He doesn't want Eddie to see his flared fins, so he does the first thing he thinks of; Steve pushes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie's shoulders, hugging him tightly so he can't pull away. "Thanks," he mumbles, "for the gifts, I mean."

He hears Eddie laugh and feels Eddie's hands slide across his side and to his back to return the hug. "Of course, Stevie," Eddie replies, his breath warm against Steve's gills and sending a subtle shiver down Steve's spine. "I'm glad you like them."

Steve is gone. He can't imagine being away from Eddie. He can already see Eddie and the guppies meeting, and he can see Robin fucking with Eddie just to see how he reacts. Steve can see Eddie in the water with him, grinning as his hair floats around them. Steve can see Eddie and him lying together on a beach, warm on the sand and basking in the sun.

Most of all, Steve can imagine giving Eddie a necklace or bracelet of his scales. Maybe that should scare or worry him, but all Steve can feel is excited and warm, and he's more than happy to bask in that feeling for a while.

----

Tag List (the tag list is full! I wasn't able to fit everyone, so if you aren't on here, I'd suggest following #high seas steddie. I think you should still get updates on your dash if you do)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg, @littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow

@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle, @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona, @sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed, @xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma, @m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie

[slowandsteddie]

Eddie: “permission to board your vessel, Captain?”

Steve, trying to remain in character: “permission granted.”

Eddie, grinning so wide and sliding into the passenger seat

Steve: “you know how I said I’d do anything for you?”

Eddie: “aye, I remember that decree.”

Steve, breaking character with an arched eyebrow: “I’m not cutting my hand off for you just because you have a pirate fetish.”

Eddie, having the audacity to look disappointed

[sparkle-fiend]

@steddie-week day 1: pining

A little mermaid au for both mermay and steddie week