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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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✨Love Amidst The Blue Part 1: Discovering the Siren✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Welcome to my little mermaid au world featuring sailor! Joel 💙 I hope you enjoy this story I put together, and please tell me what you think! Comments and reblogs always appreciated and thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for reading over this and giving me suggestions! 🥰

Summary: Joel sets out on the Tyrrhenian Sea with his crew in search for hidden treasure. What he doesn’t know is that he’ll meet a beautiful mermaid that will turn his world upside down. Will he win her over or will he introduce a long ago foe to the mermaids of the hidden underwater city of Capri?

Pairing: sailor! Joel x mermaid fem! reader

Word Count: 9.1k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Longing, feelings, eventual smut, Joel discovers a mermaid, mermaids try to drown Joel, slight angst

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

The crystal blue water of the Tyrrhenian Sea is calm, the wind gently blowing the sails of the Deep Blue Oasis as it rocks back and forth slowly. That was the name of Joel’s boat, one of his most prized possessions. A gateway to the unknown where he could clear his mind and get lost on the aqua ocean tides that have called to him for as long as he could remember.

A call to the side of him that loves history , ancient things, and to the treasure hunter in himself. He spent countless days out on the tides of the sea, always looking for hidden treasures that may be hiding under the deep blue water. His scattered map was marked with red inked circles and x’s of areas where there was said to be lost treasures down below. He swore to his father he’d find them one day and make him proud.

Joel’s father was a wealthy businessman, always focused on the clients in Italy and making a fortune of his own. Joel didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. He wanted to be out on the sea, out where the ocean breeze could ruffle through his curly locks and carry him into the unknown. He always loved the water and the salty sea air, always wanted to become a sailor to travel the world. His father never approved of it, though. He said it was a waste of time and money, until that dark day that he passed away. His last dying breath was him telling Joel to buy a big boat and sail. Make me proud, son. Follow your dream. Those words still haunt him to this day, the few words he begged his father to say his entire life. So on his thirtieth birthday, that’s exactly what he did.

Five years later Joel had his own boat, his own crew, his own freedom to do as he pleased. His crew wasn’t the most trustful men, but they earned his trust little by little. He befriended some filthy pirates on one of his sea explorations a couple of years ago. At first they threatened him, but he was smart and talked them out of stealing from him and taking over his boat. He offered them so much money that they couldn’t refuse. They agreed to work for him and show him parts of the sea that he’d never been to. Sure, they had their flaws and their bad habits, but he couldn’t do this without them. So he decided to give them a chance.

Joel unfolds his large map of the area and lays it out flat on the side of the railings, studying the area like he knows exactly where he’s headed to. He rolls up his white cotton sleeves and traces lines of the faded map, mapping out this specific area with the tip of his finger.

“Captain Miller, the boys think it’s in this area,” Jasper voices over the blowing breeze, making Joel stop to look up from his marked map.

“What is?” he asks with a raised brow.

“The hidden underwater city of Capri,” Jasper says with excitement in his flushed swampy eyes. His linens are tattered, his blonde hair outgrown and unkempt, his crooked smile waning up at Joel as mischief plays in his scattered mind.

“I thought that was just a folktale? The underwater city. People have searched for years and found nothing. What makes you so sure this place is here?” Joel asks with narrowed dark eyes, waiting for an honest answer from his so-called pirate friend.

“Mermaids, cap’n. They’re here in this area,” Jasper says with the gleam of his eye, sure of himself as much as he’s sure of how to sail this boat.

“Mermaids…” Joel questions, flicking his eyes out to the blue tides as the water gently laps at the large rocks in the water. “I’ve never seen a mermaid, Jas. Only seen them in some old books in my study. As far as I’m concerned, they aren’t here.”

Joel starts to turn around, but Jasper catches his arm. “I swear on my life, mate. They're as real as you and me. Seen one with my own eyes. Not long ago either. Beautiful creatures they are, their siren songs able to hypnotize anyone who dares to look them in the eyes. Saw one drown one of my men before. Grabbed him by the arm and pulled him under with her song. He was never seen again,” he says with sad eyes, looking out into the bright horizon as seagulls and pelicans flock the sunny sky.

Joel ticks his jaw and looks out amongst the miles and miles of open ocean, only seeing the lapping waves as they hit the bottom of the boat. “Jasper, I’m gonna have to see one with my own eyes to believe it. Maybe it was sun poison that made you see things.”

“It wasn’t sun poison, Joel! If you won’t believe me, then I pray one day you do see one. Am I one to lie?” he asks with a heated stare and a hand on his grimy hip.

Joel knits his brows together and stares for a minute at the pirate that swears on his life he’s seen a mermaid. While Jasper doesn’t usually lie to Joel, he’s still a pirate. Still willing to lie and cheat his way around the system. But he’s also the most trustful of his crew, so he’s torn. Maybe it wasn’t a mermaid he saw, but maybe another sea creature. Yes. That’s what it must’ve been. Something else.

Joel puts a hand on Jasper’s shoulder and nods his head. “Sure, Jas. But let’s keep our eyes out for this.” Joel puts his index finger on the red x that’s marked right around the sea cave that sits a few hundred feet from the boat. Supposedly there was a ship wreck that happened years ago, and men have tried and failed to discover what great treasures were lost to the sea that day. Those who go in, never come out. Joel would find out, though. One way or another he’d discover the secret of what happened so many years ago.

“Go on and have the men anchor the boat. Wanna stay here overnight and see if we can find anything.”

Jasper nods his head and huffs out a breath. “Yes, cap’n. Right away.” He turns and yells at the men to hoist the anchor and get ready to search the area.

Joel folds the map back up and places it in the pocket of his tan trousers. He sighs and looks out at the massive sea cave, watching the waves churn calmly against the rough rocks.

Mermaids. There couldn’t be any. He would’ve seen one before, would’ve remembered if he did. He lets his thoughts go back to the task at hand and clears his mind. No time to think of maybe’s and false folklore. It was time to find some treasure.

The water is crystal clear today, sunlight beaming through the long seaweed that sits tangled in the ocean. You swim your way past a pod of dolphins, waving hello to the newborn calves as they whistle out their greetings. You dive down hundreds of feet and hum your favorite lullaby. The one your mom used to sing you every night before you fell asleep in the comfy bed of a massive clam shell.

A school of colorful fish swim past you, and you smile up at them as you propel yourself faster to get to your favorite discrete area of the bay. You call it the moonlight sea cave because at night you can see the moon shine all the way through the entire cave system, even under the water. It’s beautiful, a place where you can go to think and relax.

You always have to sneak off to this area. Your sisters would never approve, and you shudder thinking how your father would react. How many times has he told you to never go up to the surface again? How many times had your sisters dragged you back home over the years? You couldn’t keep track, didn’t want to think about it.

After that awful day that happened so many years ago, you weren’t supposed to want to go back up to the surface. You weren’t supposed to look for treasure that humans always dropped off their boats, but you still did. And you definitely weren’t supposed to be this close to shore, but you were still quite a ways out. Your father would kill you if he found you swimming around these parts, but you chose to ignore his wishes like you always did.

You swim up to the surface and lift your face into the sunlight, breathing the fresh salty air as you inhale the warm breeze. You push your long hair over your shoulder and take a few strides through the water, floating in the waves as the salt water dries on your shoulders.

When you look up, you freeze as your blood runs cold. A boat, there’s a boat. It’s big, towering over the water as a crew of men work on casting nets and walk along the deck. You duck down in fear and hide behind a rock, hoping that they haven't seen you. You slowly peek your head around the corner and stop in your tracks when you see him. The most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

He’s tall, broad shouldered, and has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. His hair is dark, tousled curls blowing in the wind as a few strands fall near his eyes. Brown, warm flecks coat his eyes. Eyes you could get lost in, eyes that you’d now dream about for days on end. And his arms. They’re strong, built, powerhouses that could take down a large man. The top buttons on his white cotton shirt are open, exposing tanned skin that must bathe in the sunlight on a regular basis.

You’re supposed to hate humans. You don’t trust them, you don’t think you could ever trust them again. But him… he looks like a walking dreamboat, a sailor you’d like to get to know. He doesn’t look like all the other ones, no. He looks kind, caring, maybe even dare you say trusting. But he’s a human, and you’re a mermaid. This can’t happen, this can’t ever happen.

Scar bumps your hip with his large fin as he makes a circle around you, warning you that you could be seen. “It’s okay, Scar. They can’t see me, I don’t think. It’s alright.”

He bumps you again with his snout and looks at you with his big black eyes, his dorsal fin coming just above the surface. He tells you to be careful, tells you he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. You only smile and brush your hand against his sandpaper like skin.

“I’m alright. Promise. Go on, I’ll be fine. Just gonna stay here for a few minutes,” you confirm. He huffs out a sigh and dives back down into the deep depths of the water, but he stays close. He always stays close. Who knew that a great white shark would be one of your best friends in the sea? They usually don’t want anything to do with mermaids, but you saved him that awful day that was full of bloodshed and death. And ever since then he never left your side. You were grateful for him. He was the best protector you ever had.

You stay there against the rock and lean your elbows up on it, continuing to watch the handsome man look over what looks like an old map of some sort. You lap your tail up and down in the water and lean your cheek against the rock, daydreaming of meeting the man with dark eyes.

He was going to get you in trouble, but you didn’t care. You’d risk your life just to get a chance to stare into the maps of his golden brown eyes.

Joel clings to the side of the boat as he digs his nails into the warm, polished wood. He turns his head to watch his crew stay busy on the deck as they bustle around and drag their worn out shoes against the floorboards. He sighs and takes another look at his intricate map, tracing his finger over every crevice of the parchment until he gets frustrated and throws his head up to look out on the bright horizon.

As soon as he looks up, he stops cold as he spots the gleam of a sparkling tail in the near distance. It’s not just a tail, there’s a girl leaning up against a rock that’s staring right back at him. He rubs his eyes to make sure it’s not the sun playing tricks on his mind, but she still appears there in the same spot just staring blankly at him. He sees a young woman who’s beautiful, dreamlike, something he only thought was a fantasy. He sees you, a mermaid…

Mermaids aren’t real, mermaids can’t be real. But how does he explain what he clearly sees now? You are very much real.

His ears ring with white noise, the sounds of his crew scrubbing along the deck nearly nonexistent now. It’s just you and him, staring at each other as if you’re the only two people out on the calm waters. It’s just the gentle breeze kissing his tanned skin and the distant noise of waves lapping against the rock that you so subtly lean against, eyes locking with each other as if the world crashes on its side to bring the two of you together.

He grabs his golden telescope, looking through the lense as you come into view just inches from his vision. The sight of you nearly knocks the breath out of him, his eyes widen as he takes in the beauty that sits before him. He thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, thinks you’re absolutely divine, a treasure that should be well cared for.

His eyes trail down your lush curves, taking in the dusty coral colored seashells that cover your breasts, scanning every inch of your shimmering tail that’s soft pink as it flicks back and forth against the water. It’s almost sparkling like diamonds, maybe even soft to the touch. He wonders what you feel like, what you sound like. He bets your voice is like an angel’s, captivating and melodic like nothing he’s ever heard on earth. He wonders what your hands feel like, how they’d feel entwined in his own.

You should swim away, dive back underneath the blue water, but you can’t move. You can’t look away from the handsome stranger. You want to know his name, want to ask him all about what land life is like, want to know if his voice is as soft as his tousled curls look, want to see him again and again…

“Cap’n, whatcha lookin’ at?” Jasper asks as he comes up to Joel and nearly sends him over the edge of the boat. Joel drops the telescope from his unsteady hand, and it lands in a heap on the wooden deck. He scrambles to pick it up, and when he stands up and looks back out at the rock he sees that you’re gone.

He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head slowly. “It was nothing, Jas. Just thought I saw something. Was only a dolphin, nothing else,” he says with a hint of sadness on his tongue, wishing you were still on the rock so he could look into your entrancing eyes.

“Too bad it wasn’t a mermaid. Could’ve made you a true believer,” Jasper laughs as he hits Joel on the back of the shoulder with more force than he meant to.

“Yeah, too bad…” Joel says quietly as he stares at the vacant rock, doing nothing for his peace of mind as he wishes you were still there.

When he turns away from the rock, he sets his eyes back on the folded out map and grabs it up, heading toward the rest of his crew as they send down row boats to go inspect the area.

Joel makes a promise to himself then. Tonight he’ll go out late at night and look for you, hoping you’ll hear his thoughts that he wants to see you again. He will see you again. That’s a promise he will surely keep.

Later that night, Joel tosses and turns in his cabin quarters underneath the boat. He can’t sleep, can’t think as he tosses and turns back and forth in his bed. He thinks of you, the way your tail shimmered in the glow of the sun, how your eyes called to him from the deck of the boat. He needs to see you again. He needs to talk to you.

He crawls out of the bed and throws on his leather boots, lacing them up as he climbs up the stairs and enters into the glow of the full moon as the stars sparkle in the sky. He tiptoes around drunken pirates that are passed out cold on the deck, snoring and limbs scattered about as he passes them carefully to not wake them.

He paces the upper deck, sliding his hands along the edge, searching and searching for any sign of moment in the water. He only sees the faint laps of water against the boat, sees nothing out of the ordinary. He starts to doubt himself, maybe he saw nothing. Maybe it really was the sun playing tricks on his brain. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He sighs and starts to turn around, until he hears a soft melody carrying through the water. He turns around sharply and latches onto the wooden edge of the boat, eyes searching as he hears the sing-song voice start to come closer. It’s angelic, harmonious, nothing that he’d ever heard before. It sends him into a trance-like state, needing to find the owner of the beautiful song.

You wade through the water, flipping your tail as you hide behind the large rocks, singing the song of your people as you let your voice blow through the breeze, hoping he can hear you, hoping he’ll come.

Please, come. Come out to the sea, let me see your beautiful face.

You let your voice carry over the water, humming out melodic notes as you flip through the water. He has to come. He has to hear your voice, has to listen to you call him with your siren song. Come on, handsome sailor. Come find me.

You peek your head out from behind the rock and see him standing there on the deck, staring at you as his eyes go wide. You smile triumphantly as you duck back under the water, tempting him to come chase you.

Come get me, come get me. Find me under the water.

Joel wastes no time and lowers a wooden row boat to the water, climbing down a ladder as he jumps carefully onto the small boat as it rocks underneath his weight. He rows it out slowly to the middle of the water, searching his eyes every which way to find you.

“Where are you? Come out,” he whispers into the crisp night air.

He hears a splash to the left of him and throws his head in that direction. He sees small bubbles that form over the water, but there’s no sign of you. He sighs and pulls his eyes toward the rock and then he sees you.

He audibly gasps as you splash your tail and hide back behind the shelter of the big foundation in the water, nerves pulling in you as you’re so close to the human. The human with dark eyes and beautiful face. A human you want to meet.

He crawls to the edge of the little boat and places his hands on the edge, calling out to you in a deep voice that sends goosebumps down your arms. “Hey, come out. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. Please, don’t hide,” he says, calmly holding out an arm as if he wants you to take it.

You peek your head out from behind the rock carefully and see him leaning against the boat, a little too close to the water. He doesn’t know what dangers lurk beneath him, what things would reach out and drag him under the water.

You shouldn’t go, shouldn’t talk to a human. Humans are bad, humans are cold, cruel, vial. They killed so many of your kind, tortured your friends of the sea. But him… Well, he looks kind. He looks… safe. Safe? Could humans be safe? No. Could they…

This was stupid and reckless. You start to turn back into the shadows until he calls out to you again. “Wait, please. Don’t go. Stay,” he pleads, his eyes searching yours with some kind of intensity and longing that you’ve never seen before. It frightens you more than the horrors humans have caused in your life.

Stay. The word wracks your brain over and over as it pulls at your insides.

Stay. He asked you to stay. You decide then that that’s exactly what you’ll do. You’ll stay. You’ll stay for him. You might regret it later, but for now this is what you wanted. What you needed to do.

You start to swim slowly over to him, diving under the water and breaching just inches from his wooden boat. You come up for air, realizing just how close you are to his face now. He’s so beautiful, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life.

His skin is tan, the sun bronzing him as he seems to spend days on end on the water. His shoulders are broad, so strong as your eyes trail down his thick arms, ropes of taut veins spread wide over his lower arms. His hands look strong, big, calloused from working on a boat. You bet they feel nice, would like to feel them pressed up against your face or maybe have them entwined with your fingers.

His dark, tousled curls kiss his forehead as stray curls fall over his skin. You have to stop yourself from reaching out your hand to push them back into place. You think it must feel so soft, so smooth…

And his eyes. God, his eyes. They’re deep brown, flecks of golden warmth sprawled across the crevices of his irises. They’re beautiful, deep, intricate as they study you carefully.

He digs his hands into the side of the boat and leans so far forward you’re afraid it may tip over. You make sure that it doesn’t because these waters are dangerous to humans, dangerous to men such as himself.

He looks at you with wide eyes, his lips parting as he takes in your features. He’s so close that he can make out details he couldn’t see up on the boat through the telescope. Like your eyes. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes such as yours. They glisten like the stars, almost as deep as the ocean itself, captivating and breathtaking.

He takes in your long hair that sits over your shoulders as you nervously run your hands through the damp strands. And then there’s your tail. That glittering, magnificent tail that almost looks too intricate to be real. He focuses on each shiny scale, watching the way the colors go from a deep pink to a lighter flamingo shade of coral. He wants so badly to reach his hand out to touch it, see how it feels underneath the weight of his calloused fingers.

Just one touch, that’s all he needs. One touch to make this dream a harsh reality as a mermaid sits right in front of him, right in his grasp.

You see the way he stares all transfixed and in a trancelike spell. You might be insane, but the first words fall from your lips without a hint of hesitation there. “Do you want to touch it?” you ask shyly, pulling back a lock of hair behind your ear as you position your tail so it’s sitting out of the water, just inches from his waiting hand.

“What?” he asks surprised, eyes wider than the full moon in the clear night sky.

“My tail. Do you want to touch it?” you ask again with more courage this time, flicking your tail above the water as you entice him to go on.

“Oh-uh… yes,” he whispers out as he slowly but steadily reaches his arm out, ever so carefully extending his fingers as they brush over the side of your tail.

He gasps as his fingers come in contact with the shiny scales, like the breath has been knocked clear out of him. It’s nothing like he imagined it’d be. It’s softer than he thought possible, smooth as he glides his fingers underneath the cold water.

You almost stop breathing as you feel his fingers explore the magnificent scales on your long tail, almost sigh at the contact of his skin. No one had ever touched you quite like this, even if it was just the brush of fingertips. It feels… good. And you want more, need more.

He pulls his hand back out of the water, and you almost whine as you lose the contact of his fingers. You’d let him touch you again, let him marvel your tail all night if he wanted to. It was silly really, how attracted you were to him when you only just met him. He was just that beautiful, that mesmerizing. And for a moment you think he is the siren, not you.

“You’re a… you’re a…” he stutters, voice hoarse as he continues to stare at you with a starstruck gaze. He’d never seen a mermaid before, that much is certain.

“A mermaid?” you finish for him, almost giggling at his gaping stare.

“Yes,” he says in disbelief, nodding his head up and down. “I didn’t know you, mermaids existed,” he says with a look that says everything you need to know. He’s harmless, not here to hurt you.

“Well, we’re very much real. We’re just discrete, careful. We don’t really come up to the surface, not anymore,” you say quietly, shaking away the memories of distant screams and bloodshed that once was long ago. The memories are too painful to relive, so you lock them out of your mind and try to forget every day that you exist in a world that did that to your kind.

He doesn’t ask about the distant sadness in your eyes, you just smile and clear your eyes as you continue to gaze up at him curiously.

“What’s your name?” he asks slowly, eyes never leaving yours as you let your name slip past your tongue. You drop it carefully, giving him information that seems too personal, but you’re in too deep now. You want to know about him, and he clearly wants to know about you. So you’ll let him in, even if that’s a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He repeats your name slowly, going over every syllable so carefully as it rolls off his lips effortlessly. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. You could lean against the edge of the boat and lay your head against your arm as you look up and hear him repeat your name over and over again. Almost like a lullaby as it could put you to sleep with how deep and mesmerizing his smooth voice sounds.

“My name’s Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with deep brown eyes looking down into yours.

You repeat the name over and over in your mind. Joel, Joel, Joel. It pulls at you, calls you as you hook your fingers around the edge of the small boat and feel his hand brush up against yours. You gasp and pull your hand back, feeling an electrical shock run through your entire arm at the connection of skin on skin with him. You’d never felt that before, that kind of connection with anyone. This was new, this was scary, this was dangerous.

He notices the panic in your eyes and puts his hands up calmly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?” he asks as he surrenders his hands, letting you know he means no harm.

Darlin’. The name sends warmth through your stomach as you mull over his words. I’m not gonna hurt you. You let those words be a promise as you cautiously put your hands back on the edge of the boat. He brings his hands back down, just enough where if you shift your fingers they’d brush up against his. But for now you stay like this, just enough to still feel that electricity deep in your body.

“Darling, what’s that?” you ask with a raised brow, not having heard the word before.

“You’ve never heard the word darlin’ before?” he asks as he knits his thick brows together, pulling at the seams of your heart.

You shake your head no as droplets of water trickle down your back. “No, guess I haven’t,” you say with an even breath.

“It’s just a term of endearment where I’m from. A nickname, you can say,” he answers, his hand moving just enough for him to brush the outer edge of your pinky finger. You suck in a breath and try not to get too flustered at the action.

“Oh, I see,” you say quietly. “Darlin’, I like that…”

You ponder over the name and ask something else in return. “Do you have any other nicknames you use?” you ask, biting your lip at the question as you wait patiently.

He twitches his jaw and looks you over carefully before he responds. “I mean, there’s a lot I could use, I suppose. Darlin’ just comes naturally to me, but you…” His soft brown eyes flick over yours slowly before he speaks again. “Sirena, yeah. I like that,” he smiles to himself as your lips curl up slowly.

“Sirena, hmmmm,” you hum to yourself. “I like that, but what does it mean?”

“It comes from a Greek word. It means siren or enchantress, which you are. You are quite enchanting,” he says with a gleam in his eyes, his words in a trancelike state as he stares into your eyes.

You gulp at the meaning, eyes fixed on his intently. He called you enchanting, he thinks you’re enchanting. It shouldn’t make you feel so much closer to him, it’s only a nickname, a silly name. But it does. It does.

When you don’t speak, he asks another question. “What’s it like out there? Under the water? To be able to breathe and see things I couldn’t quite imagine myself?” His brown eyes sink into yours, shifting his weight slightly as the wooden boat creaks underneath him.

“It’s the most amazing thing you could imagine,” you say enchanted, your tail grazing above the water as you spin up a small current underneath you. “Unearthly, exquisite. There’s truly nothing like being able to connect with nature, to be able to see the wonders of fathoms below that no human has seen before. It’s freeing, beautiful, amazing, but…”

Your voice cuts off at the last part, thinking about all the things you wish you knew about the real world outside the waters of your home. Something you always wanted to know ever since you could remember. A taste for knowledge of the outside world, the human world.

“But what?” he asks quietly, almost putting his hand on top of yours before you shy away and move your fingers out of his reach.

“I just… I just wonder what the human world is like sometimes. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I just have that deep fascination with things I don’t quite understand. I crave to know the history of the land, want to know what it’s like to touch actual sand out of the water. Want to know how a…. oh, what’s the word?” you wrack your brain for what seems like minutes until you think of the word you once saw on a picture in a book. “How a fire burns,” you say proudly after remembering the strange words.

“Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about the human world. If you teach me about the underwater world.”

You mull over the words, think of what you could be risking. You could expose too much, you could open up a can of worms that you couldn’t close. You could risk everything. But for him maybe it was worth the risk. You could trust him, right?

As if he can read your mind, he places a hand gently on top of yours and you gasp at the contact. His touch is so careful, so soft atop yours. You think you like it, a lot. “You can trust me, darlin’. I swear on my life, I won’t hurt you. Do you trust me?”

Do you trust me? The words ring through your head as you question the words yourself. Trust was a big deal, trust meant you were putting your own life on the line. But as you look into his soft brown eyes and see the genuine smile curled on his plush lips, you can’t help but lose yourself as you automatically nod and respond, “I trust you.”

His face is so close to yours, so close that if he leaned down just a little he could brush his lips against yours. It’s as if he can hear the wild beating of your heart as it beats like a pod of dolphins traveling as fast as lightning through the water. Your eyes gaze into his, begging him to sink his lips down to yours.

He reaches his hand out and traces the edge of your jawline slowly, intimately. You gasp at the feel of him, as his calloused fingers trail gently over your skin. It feels warm, safe, so very right like his hand was made to touch you, to know you. He sees you. He sees you.

Just when he’s about to lean down and give you what you desire, the boat suddenly flips over and Joel goes crashing into the water.

“Joel!” you scream as you dive down to retrieve him, but he’s not there where he should be. Where is he? You call his name again, search below the dark depths below, twist your way through the seaweed and look frantically around until you see what exactly happened.

Your eyes go wide, a scream escaping your mouth as you find two of your sisters holding him down below the water trying to drown him. He fights their grip, trying to hold his breath as he looks terrified of what’s happening. Your sisters just smile vindictively to each other as their aquamarine and deep purple tails flick against the water and draw their sharp nails into his arms.

“Stop!” you beg as you swim desperately up to them and try to grab his arms out of their reach. They back up just enough so you can’t quite grab him.

Cleo stands her grown and flashes her white incisors your way as her blue tail fans out behind her. “He’s a human! A man, for crying out loud! All men should die for what they did to us,” she spits out, a snarl deep on her flawless face as your other sister Marissa agrees with her.

“He’s different. Joel is different!” you plead, reaching your hand out again.

“Joel. You know him by name? Can you believe that, Cleo? He has a name. How thoughtful of our sister to learn such information of this beast,” she laughs sadistically as she yanks him under again.

You watch his eyes start to close, watch his breath gasp for air as he slowly fades from the light. You grow desperate, hasty as you swim with all your might to grab his arms out of your sisters’ grip.

“Please, he’s kind! Don’t do this. Don’t take this one!” you beg as tears start to pour from your eyes, landing against your cheeks as they float off into the unsteady waters.

Your sisters drop their hands, eyes wide at how desperate you’re acting over a human. But he’s not just a human, he’s different. This one is different.

They both watch you take his body against yours as you wrap your arms behind the backs of his arms and start to hoist him to the surface. They stop you before you breach atop the water, grabbing your slippery fin as they stop you from swimming any further.

“You better be careful, sister. You don’t know what danger you’re putting us in. Interacting with a man? You’re foolish, selfish. How do you think father will handle this?” Cleo asks with narrowed eyes that could kill a man with how sharp she’s staring.

“Don’t you dare tell him, Cleo. Just… let me go. Please,” you beg as you try to squirm out of her hold. “He’s going to die if you don’t!” you scream, eyes wide as his head slumps against your shoulder weightless, almost like he’s already dead. Panic consumes you at the mere thought of it.

“Go on, then,” she says with a snarky look. “I won’t tell him… yet. But be warned. If he does anything to sway my judgement and I mean anything, I’ll have no choice but to tell him,” she warns as Marissa spits in your direction.

Cleo finally releases your fin as you swim frantically up, up, up until you break the seal and breathe fresh air again. Joel doesn’t stir, doesn’t even seem to be breathing as his head still rests lazily against the crook of your neck.

You look around desperately for anything you can lay him on, needing to stir him awake somehow. You need to get him someplace dry.

“Joel, just hold on. You’ll be alright. Please, just hang on,” you cry out as you circle around frantically looking for anything you can use.

That’s when you see it, a large flat rock that lays above the water in the middle of the sea cave you always find yourself in. You push yourself forward in the water, making sure to keep his head above the stirring waves. You turn on your back and hold his body above yours as you propel your strong tail in the water, trying with all your might to get there faster.

He’s going to die and it’s all your fault. Why were you being so reckless? The words taunt your mind like your sisters’ glaring warnings. You can’t think about them now, the only thing you care about is getting Joel to wake up. He needs to breathe, he needs to wake up.

You drag his body up on the smooth rock and lay him flat on his back. He has no sign of breathing anywhere, his chest is still as dawn like the sun slowly rising in the horizon.

You try to shake his shoulders, try to rub at his sternum forcefully as if that’ll wake him up. Nothing happens. You try again, calling his name and shaking him, screaming for him to wake up. But again there’s no movement, no breath coming from his mouth.

You crash down on top of him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting a tear drop from your melancholy eyes as it falls against his still chest. You whimper out a pathetic sound that sounds like you’re choking on your own words. “Come back to me, Joel. Come back,” you plead, face still pressed against his hollow chest as you let another tear fall in his presence.

You feel cold, hard pressed, wounded as if someone just took a sharp stake to your chest. You shouldn’t feel like this, shouldn’t let yourself feel so much for a human who you barely know. But he was going to show you his world, was going to teach you everything you wanted to know, and you were going to show him your world. But that’s no more. He’s gone. He’s gone.

You let the falling tears dry up on his cotton white shirt where the buttons lay half opened to expose tanned skin, can feel just how broad and strong he is underneath your weight. And you wish he’d wake up, wish he’d open his soft brown eyes so you could sink into them, sing him a melody while he grazed his fingers gently against your face. You want it so bad, want him so bad. But it could never be now. Not anymore.

You let your hand fall to his chest and wrap your fingers around his damp white shirt. You start to hum out your favorite lullaby, a way to soothe you over against the hurt you feel in your chest now as it aches and twists like a knife in your gut. Singing has always been a way to make you feel braver, a way to drown out the sorrows of dark days. Your mother always said you had the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard, but she was also gone now. Gone on that awful, dark day where blood filled the waters of your home. Gone.

You push the thoughts away, continue singing your song as if this will make the situation better. You close your eyes and drown out the lapping waves with your voice, making sure it echoes off every corner in the open cave.

Just as you’re about to push yourself off him, you feel movement underneath you. Just a faint lurch beneath you until he’s turning on his side and coughing up water out of his lungs rapidly, spilling it all over the glossy rock as he tries to catch his breath from all the choking and coughing his body expels.

“Joel?!” you ask alarmed, your hand shooting up to his face as you caress the soft, patchy scruff against his jawline carefully.

He lays on his back again and slowly opens his eyes, placing his hand over yours as he calls your name softly, his words still laced with salt water that still burns the back of his throat, but he answers anyway. And your name out of his mouth sounds like the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“You’re alive?” you ask quietly, eyes wide as you stare down at him with your mouth parted open slightly.

“Thanks to you, I am,” he says with a nod up at you, his hand still lingering on top of yours as his calloused fingers send sparks down your arm. It’s electric, shocking as it blinds you with need.

You gulp but don’t say anything else, too afraid to ruin the moment. “Your voice,” he says nodding to you again, “I’ve never heard a voice quite as beautiful as yours. I thought I was in heaven for a second there, thought you were an angel.”

Beautiful? An angel? Oh.

“An angel? Not quite,” you giggle, dropping your hand from his face to rest on his broad chest.

He lifts his arm up slowly and hooks a piece of damp hair behind your ear, trailing his calloused fingers along your cheek as he stares at you with wide brown eyes. Eyes that make your insides turn to putty.

“You are an angel,” he nods, his lips curling up into a soft smile that could knock you back into the water.

He thinks you’re an angel…

“Oh,” is all you can say.

He looks at you like no one else has, looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world. He sees you for what you are, a siren, and yet he doesn’t run. He doesn’t run. He stays.

His lips look so soft, so plush that you think you’d like to feel them pressed up against yours. His eyes flick back and forth between your wanting eyes and your parted mouth, and you think he wants the same thing.

You start to drift toward him, closer and closer until you’re almost there, almost touching his lips. He reaches to cup the back of your head, steering you down, down until you’re barely a breath away from him.

Suddenly there’s a large splash in the water, and you jump apart from him as he sits up on his elbows and gazes out into the dark blue rippling water. He sees a large fin and goes ghost white as he takes in the long body of the great white shark that lurks around the area. His eyes go wide as he sinks against the cave wall behind him as if to hide from the creature of the deep.

“It’s alright,” you say calmly as you reach your arm under the shadow of the water and call the shark over to you. Joel’s chest rises and falls unsteadily as his eyes remain locked on the terrifying features of Scar.

“Your hand, get your hand out of the water,” Joel urges as he tries to pull you back, but you wave him off.

“Joel, it’s alright. He’s my friend.”

Scar circles back around and brushes his body up against your hand as you pet his back and let him disappear back under the water.

“You’re friends with a shark?” he asks surprised, eyes still peeled on the shadow that looms around the area.

“Mhm. I saved his life many years ago, and he’s never left my side since then. Kinda ironic how people misinterpret them. Sharks may look scary to the human eye, but they’re really peaceful creatures. If you just took a few minutes to really see them, you’d see they’re just trying to live peacefully in their home. They just want to survive like any of us do.”

Joel looks at you as if really hearing you for the first time. The way you talk about the ocean, about the creatures of the deep makes him feel things he’s never even thought of before. He thinks you’re beautiful, breathtaking, and so kind. So very kind…

“You’re really something out of a fairytale, aren’t you?” he asks with wonder in his voice, his brown eyes sinking into yours as he focuses on the warm smile you give him as you blush crimson.

“I guess you could say that, sailor?” you giggle out. “That’s what you are, right?”

“Yes,” he nods as he looks over at his boat that sits idle over the calm tides.

“Is that your boat?” you ask as your eyes wander over to the large vessel that sits in the water under sparkling stars. You flick your eyes over the sides, noticing the large blue flags that fly gently in the cool breeze and notice the words Deep Blue Oasis written in cursive letters that hang down the side.

“Yep, that’s my beauty. Been sailin’ on her for a few years now. Probably one of my favorite things ever. To be able to sail across the waters and explore areas I’ve never been to before. It’s all very… exciting.”

You watch the way his eyes light up the way he talks about the sea, watch the way his smile curls over his lips as he talks about his love for sailing. You think it’s hypnotizing, beautiful. You think he is beautiful.

“What are you doing around this part? Looking for something?” you ask as your eyebrows rise up, intrigued why he was staying around these parts.

“There was a ship that went down many years ago here. There’s all sorts of tales and rumors that some great treasure was lost here with the ship. And I want to find it,” he states excitedly.

A shipwreck many years ago? You think you know which one he’s talking about, like maybe it was that same night that all the bloodshed went down. The night you lost your mother to those bloodsucking humans…

He notices your eyes shift from lit up to cold irises, feels the dread that seems to take over your body for the moment. But then he’s cupping your chin and lifting your eyes up to his warm brown eyes, and you feel like you’ve made it safely back home.

“You alright, darlin’? You went away for a minute there,” he asks as his concerned eyes gaze into yours. You nod your head and let him continue to keep his hand on your skin. You’ll let him keep it there for as long as he wants.

You smile up at him and nod in response. “I’m okay, was just thinking about something,” you say with a daze to your tone, somber eyes coming back down to earth.

“Was there something specific you were looking for?” you ask as his fingers continue to trace down your skin. It feels like complete magic that holds you under a spell.

“Not really. You see, I kinda have a fascination with history. You should see my study. I have hundreds of books and ancient artifacts that I’ve found in the sea. You’d love it,” he says with a crooked smile splayed against his face. It makes a dimple form deep in his cheek, and it nearly takes your breath away.

His study sounds a lot like the secret cave you have deep underwater that’s full of human treasures that you’d collected over the years from lost ships and things thrown overboard from wasteful humans. It’s a little sanctuary for you, a place you can go to clear your mind and wonder just what it’d be like to walk on land. What it’d be like to have your own pair of legs. But you love the sea so much, you don’t think you’d ever want to leave. But for him, you might just follow him anywhere.

You sigh as you lean into his touch, wishing you could see just what he’s talking about. “I wish I could see it,” you say quietly, eyes trailing back to his doe eyes as he speaks again.

“Maybe someday you will.” And it sounds like a promise, like he will show you one day. But how? You have a tail, you can’t walk. Your home is in the ocean, not on land. But if you could find a way to do both then you would. There had to be a way.

“Maybe,” you say dreamlike as you dream of warm sand on your feet, walking hand in hand with him on the beach. A distant wish you so wanted to be true. But it wasn’t, and you had to deal with that.

You stay there another moment letting his calloused fingers run along your jawline as you watch his eyes settle in on your face. Before you get lost for too long, you pull out of his reach and sink back into the cool water.

“I guess I should get you back to your boat,” you say sadly, eyes averting from his as to not dwell on the beautiful flecks of mixed browns that you want to get lost in again and again until you can’t see anything but them anymore.

“Yeah, guess so,” he says quietly, a voice that screams for you to stay, but you can’t. He doesn’t belong here.

“Wait here,” you say before you take off to retrieve his small wooden boat that’ll take him safely back to dry ground.

As you wade through the water you get a sick sense that this can only end badly, but it was too late. You were already in too deep, and you already wanted to see him again. This was bad, so bad.

You turn over the toppled boat and throw the rows back inside, pulling it along as you drag it back to him safely. You place it against the rock he sits on and watch him climb in, situating himself as he takes the rows in his hands. Before he heads back to his large boat, he stops and stares at you.

“Can I see you again?” he asks quietly as the cool breeze blows a tousled curl against his forehead. Without thinking you reach up and push it back into place, feeling just how soft his hair really feels. He lets you, and it feels as soft as velvety moss.

You drop your hand back down and before you can, he grabs your wrist and stares deeply into your eyes, eliciting a gasp out of your mouth as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. You let him keep you there until you give him a clear answer.

You think of your options, think of what you might be risking if you see him again. Would your sisters try to drown him again, would he try to steal you away from the sea, would your father find out that you were meddling in human affairs? All of the questions were valid and unknown, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You wanted to see him again, needed to.

“Yes. Tomorrow night,” you say without any hesitation.

He nods his head and smiles down at you as he gently lets his fingers fall from your skin as your hand splashes back down underneath the water.

“Tomorrow it is then. See you later, Sirena.” The nickname falls off his tongue like a sweet melody that fills your ears. Sirena, enchantress, siren.

You watch him row back to his boat, watching the way his biceps bulge every time he pulls back on the rows. He looks a little like your own Prince Charming. A sailor that had captured your heart, and you weren’t willing to take it back. It was his now, as long as he wanted it.

He looks back at you before climbing up the steep ladder. He smiles gently your way and nods before turning back to the ladder and climbing up, disappearing from your view as he makes his way below the deck.

You sigh and rest your elbow against the glossy rock he was just sitting on minutes ago, daydreaming about those dreamy brown eyes and his smile that knocks the breath out of your chest.

Scar circles back around and comes up beside you, nudging you with his large snout as you gently pet the top of his head. “I know, Scar. I know. I’m in so much trouble.”

You sink back underneath the water and follow him back home, back to the kingdom of Capri where you belong. But you keep your mind locked on those sweet, syrupy eyes that you so desperately want to see again.

Joel was going to be your undoing.

Tags: (Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged) @janaispunk @amyispxnk @princesatracionera @vividispunk @keylimebeag @pedroswife69 @littlevenicebitch69 @poeticbarnes @tuquoquebrute @awkwardprovocateur @ayamenimthiriel @everythingiwanttoread @burntheedges @hc-geralt-23 @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @vivian-pascal @untamedheart81 @laurrrra @dugiioh @blueseastorm @pedrostories @morallyinept @vvitchesh3x @frannyzooey

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jintaka-hane · 2 months

Text

Want You Bad

(Beckman x f!reader)

Pt. 1 Right For The Job

Masterlist

Pairing: benn beckman x!reader Summary: Starting a new job is always a challenge, especially when one of your bosses seems aloof and distant with you. What's wrong with him? Is there anything you can do to earn his trust? The story of how Benn Beckman struggles to control his attraction to you onboard. Word count: 1800 Notes: Why do I continue writing about this gentleman? Because I can't stop. This is part 1 of probably... 4. Warnings: forbidden love, oblivious to love, friends to lovers. Tag list: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 in case you're interested!

"Not bad," you thought, quite pleased with yourself, your eyes darting from one man to the other, trying to decipher what they were thinking.

You had just completed one of the most demanding job interviews of your life, and both the questioning and the practical test had gone rather well. The rigorous testing and skills demonstration had encompassed various aspects aimed at evaluating your proficiency in maritime knowledge and practical abilities. This included boat handling, from small to medium-sized vessels, understanding meteorological phenomena and their effects on sea currents, recognizing wind patterns, and managing crisis protocols at sea.

In record time and with a stopwatch in hand, you were required to display your ability to tie various maritime knots, adjust ropes, furl sails, and climb the rigging - all without feeling dizzy.

Questions regarding survival techniques and military medicine were also asked, inquiring about first aid procedures: cleaning wounds, disinfecting, stitching up, applying creams to burns and explosion wounds… The interviewers even asked you to apply a tourniquet to one of them.

When it came to social skills, you demonstrated that you were good at connecting with people and working in teams. You had a good sense of humor, and you were loyal if you felt your team was working for a just cause.

And lastly, you showcased your specialty: making precise shots at considerable distances. You adeptly handled various firearms, with your favorite being the revolver for its lightness and practicality. While you were somewhat less enthusiastic about swords, daggers, and other bladed weapons, you could still wield them proficiently when required. You were tasked with shooting at ten different targets, and you effortlessly hit them all without difficulty.

You had, in a manner of speaking, nailed it.

All that remained was for the two men who had interviewed you to deliberate and decide whether you would become part of the red-haired crew, or if, on the contrary, you would have to continue looking for work on other vessels docked at the pier.

"Thanks, Y/n. Just give us a sec to discuss it, okay?," the captain said, escorting you to the door of the cabin.

You stepped out onto the deck and settled on a bench, eagerly awaiting a response. To make the wait more entertaining, you retrieved your revolver, still steaming, from its holster and began to clean the gunpowder that was on it.

The voices of the two men could faintly be heard by the door, but you couldn't quite make out what they were saying. It seemed that if they had to discuss it, one of them was in favor of you being suitable for the job, while the other was not. You could imagine who was who... as during the interview, the captain seemed enthusiastic, while the first mate remained serious and cautious. You just hoped they would reach an agreement soon.

"Well, what do you think? Shall we keep her?" asked the red-haired captain, reclining in his chair and casually placing both feet on the table.

"Not sure, Shanks..." responded the first mate with a somewhat concerned expression.

"Why not? She aced all the tests, she's perfect. Fits right in. It's a yes from me."

"Not sure..." Beckman began to pace slowly around the room, hands behind his back, deep in thought.

"What's bothering you? That she's the only woman on board? I don't think it'll be a problem for the lads, they'll know how to behave... We just gotta lay down some ground rules, and everything will stay in order," Shanks remarked.

"The third shot was almost a miss..." Beckman stopped right in front of the table where Shanks was sitting and looked him straight in the eye.

Shanks lowered his feet, sat up in his chair, and leaned towards his friend, resting his arm on the table. "The third one... and almost... in a job interview where she was probably nervous. Come on Beck, she's one hell of a sniper, Yassop will love her."

Beckman maintained eye contact with his captain, struggling to conjure any objections against hiring the woman. After some pondering, not a single negative argument came to his mind that he dared to voice aloud. The woman was exceptional, and who was he to fight against his captain's eagerness? He let out a resigned sigh.

"Is that a yes?" Shanks' smile grew so wide it almost took up his entire face.

"A’right," he conceded, crossing his arms.

"Settled then!" Shanks said happily, hitting the table with the palm of his hand. "Let her know. Ask her to pack up and get settled on the ship today”. He rose to his feet and retrieved the cloak hanging over the back of the chair. “I'll talk to the crew to inform the lads”.

“Aye”.

Beckman stepped out onto the deck and found you sitting on the bench, still cleaning your revolver as you waited. Upon seeing him, you immediately holstered the gun and stood up, facing each other.

An awkward silence hung between you.

With an scrutinizing glance, he studied you, slowly withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from one of his pockets and extracting one. He tapped it against the packet several times, as though he intended to compact the tobacco inside.

His presence was imposing. You observed his rifle snugly secured to his sash, its stock pointing upward and aimed towards the ground. With just a quick glance, you could tell it was a good gun, and you wondered if he would ever let you shoot it.

He cleared his throat, and your attention snapped back to his eyes.

"The captain wants you to settle on the ship today," he said, calmly placing the cigarette in his lips after speaking.

"YES!" You jumped and clasped your hands together in excitement before immediately realizing your lack of professionalism. "...I mean... thank you!" Your smile was broad.

He withdrew a match and struck it, the flame flickering to life. With a practiced hand, he brought it to the cigarette, shielding the flame from the wind to prevent it from extinguishing. For a moment, you considered lifting your own hand to assist him.

"Go fetch yer things; we'll set sail by mid-afternoon," he added, taking a deep drag.

You already had all your belongings waiting at home. Being a natural optimist, and fairly confident that you would impress them with your skills, you had packed your bags in case they set sail that same day. Your luggage wasn't many, nor were they numerous, as your possessions were scarce being a practical woman who liked to constantly change places to discover new horizons. A bit of practical clothing to allow you to move with agility, some slightly more formal dresses for special occasions, the two or three books you liked the most, and the heaviest to carry: your set of firearms.

"Alright, see you in a bit!" Turning around gracefully, you hurried down the gangway to disembark from the ship.

“Don't be late”, he ordered, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“I won't!”, you shouted without a backward glance.

He watched you sprint down the gangway and leap onto solid ground. You began to run along the pier and, for a moment, you stopped and turned around to see the magnificent galleon from afar. The ropes meticulously fastened, the wood clean and varnished, the cannons stowed yet poised for any confrontation; and the sails, proudly displaying the fierce image of the skull with red stripes crossing its left eye socket. You couldn't help but smile, unable to contain your happiness.

Your new home.

The enthusiasm on your face gave you an air of innocence that could melt even the most cold-hearted man, Beckman thought, as he rested his arms on the ship's railing, watching as you drifted further away from the ship.

You were enchanting ...

Too enchanting ...

Too enchanting for him ...

And that 's what had made him hesitate.

His foremost duty as first mate was to ensure the safety of everyone aboard, a task demanding a steady hand and a clear mind in challenging situations that could arise at sea. And he excelled at it, remaining physically and mentally composed when precision and concentration were required. He had a knack for focusing without being sidetracked and that's why Shanks and the rest of the crew relied on him.

Yet, during the interview, his concentration had wavered, his attention captured by every movement you made, captivated by the curve of your shoulders and the line of your neck as you aimed your revolver, resolute in hitting the target. Despite his extensive experience with women, he had never encountered one who, with just a single glance, could distract him so completely.

And that was a problem.

You would be a distraction.

You would be his distraction

But that wasn't reason enough to reject your application; it was his problem, not yours, and under no circumstances would he tell Shanks the truth behind his reluctant behavior, as it would only result in him laughing in his face. It was clear that you were an incredible woman, skilled in various nautical arts and prepared for combat… it was just right to accept that you were perfect for the job.

He should only maintain his professionalism and control his emotions while working with you, and perhaps ... perhaps as the days unfolded aboard, this attraction he felt for you would fade away. You would be like a challenge to him.

Shaking his head, he headed to the upper bowcastle where Shanks was delivering a speech to the men.

"Damn, if we'd crossed paths in a village tavern where I could've let loose, things would have been mighty different," he mused. He would have scrutinized your expertise in a field entirely different from the one you had been interviewed about, with a mattress serving as the stage for the trials.

Upon reaching the spot where the men gathered, Shanks paused and glanced at him, nodding slightly as an indication for him to come up and stand beside him. Stepping among the crew, he climbed the stairs and positioned himself next to Shanks, putting his hands on his pockets as he surveyed the men.

"... and that's why nobody's, and I mean nobody, is gonna get all lovestruck over her or lay a finger on her...”

Beckman rolled his neck to loosen the muscles and relieve some tension.

“... No peeking, no hitting on her, and definitely no making her feel weird; we'll treat her with respect and keep our mitts off her, got it?"

The men buzzed with excitement at the prospect of a new shipmate. It had been ages since they'd welcomed fresh faces aboard, and they were ready to seize any excuse for a celebration. Beckman observed the scene, inhaling and exhaling smoke from his lungs with a feigned calmness.

“Hey Yassop, looks like they've got you an intern!", Roux said, giving his friend a playful slap on the back.

“I hope she can handle her booze!”

Limejuice shook his head. “Ah, yeah, that is a must, not like the last one...”.

The breeze started to softly sway the rigging, indicating that the afternoon would be favorable for sailing just as they had anticipated.

“Get ready lads! We set sail in the afternoon!”

#jintaka stuff #benn beckman #benn beckman fiction #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman wives army #one piece #x reader #benn beckman x female reader #red haired pirates #beckman x reader #beckman

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astro-b-o-y-d · 3 months

Text

Triangulum - Chapter 1- Return to the Falls

— — — — — — —

“Tree. Tree. Billboard. Gas station. Telephone pole. Tree. Billboar—hey, that one’s got a whale on it!”

The clink of metal to glass echoed through the nearly-empty bus as Mabel pressed her cellphone against the window. “I wonder why they always use whales as mascots for things like car washes?” she inquired. “It’s not like they can actually drive cars or anything! They’re too big to fit through the doors!”

Such a question drew an amused chuckle from the person on the other end of the phone. “I think the thought process there is, like…you use water to clean cars?” they guessed. “And whales live in the water? And then they figure everyone can make the rest of the connection from there.”

From the seat besides Mabel, Dipper looked up from his journal. “Whales are also filter-feeders,” he pointed out. “They filter their food through something called baleen plates, which kinda look like the flappy, hangy-down brushes and sponges in a car wash? Maybe that’s one reason.”

He pointed the tip of his pencil at Mabel. “Also, you know Dev can’t actually see the billboard over the phone, right? …Adding onto that, how are you getting a signal this far out in the woods?”

Mabel moved the phone from the window and pressed it tightly against her chest. “Through the power of love!”

“Yeah, well, I’m almost positive that the ‘power of love’ isn’t gonna make your phone magically grow a video screen and a high-quality internet connection.”

With a scowl, Mabel placed her hands on her hips. “Almost positive isn’t completely positive, Mr. Negative!”

She punctuated her remark with a raspberry, before turning her attention back to her phone. “Sorry, Dev, you know how Dipper is,” she said fondly. “The big dorkus always has to apply logic to everything.”

“He raises a good point, though,” Dev replied. “I wouldn’t’ve made the connection between baleen plates and car wash sponges on my own, so I’m glad he had all that off the top of his head.”

A laugh, before their tone grew more accusatory. “Almost as if someone’s in the middle of researching whales for a certain reason.”

Dipper shifted in his seat, his gaze suddenly and intently focused on a stain of unknown origin on the back of the seat in front of them. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“...Diiiiip, you promised we’d look into that story about those sky whales off the coast together!” Dev whined playfully. “We were gonna make a whole night of it once you guys got back, with a red yarn board and everything!”

“I swear I was going to wait!” Dipper insisted. “But, like, listen…we’re gonna be spending all summer with our great-uncles. And they’ve spent the last few months sailing around the world, hunting a bunch of cool, paranormal beings out there on the open seas.”

He pressed a hand to the back of his head. “And I thought…you know—”

“—you thought sky whales might be one of the things your uncles saw out on the ocean, and you wanted to learn as much as you could to look all cool and smart in front of them,” Dev finished for him. “Especially in front of the totally awesome, Multiverse-jumping—studier of all things weird and strange—Stanford Pines?”

A beat. “…The one you promised me you’d get an autograph from and I’m totally not using this as an excuse to remind you about that?”

This earned a laugh out of Dipper. “Subtly noted, but it’s just…they’re gonna have so many stories about the places they’ve been over the past nine months,” he elaborated. “The most exciting story I have is that Phoenix incident, and it wasn’t even a real Phoenix!”

Dev let out a groan. “Ugh, don’t remind me! Whose bright idea was it again to smuggle a chicken into Science class?”

“I guess that’s one mystery we’ll never solve,” Dipper added with a look of disgust. “But what we did learn is that burnt feathers smell like someone lighting their hair on fire in a barn.”

“No kidding, I’ll never get the smell of stale hay and dirt outta my nose.”

“This is why pigs are the superior livestock,” Mabel said, punctuating her point with an indignant harrumph. “No stinky feathers!”

Dipper nudged her with his elbow before he set his journal and pencil down on his lap. “Weren’t you complaining a month ago about how Waddles is too big to smuggle into school anymore?”

“That’s not his fault! It’s the fault of society and their inability to stop body shaming everything!” She pressed her hands, phone and all, against her cheeks. ”Especially the most adorable wittle piggy in the entire world and his fat wittle piggy tummy~!”

This earned a laugh from Dev. “They’re just jealous they can’t be him, I bet,” he agreed. “Either way, Dip, it’s no worries about the sky whales thing. Just means I’ve gotta start stocking up on new research material for when you guys get home.”

There was a light tapping sound from the other side of the phone, as if Dev were tapping the speaker with their finger. “And it means that you owe me one!” they insisted. “Which you can easily pay off by spilling all the deets about what went down up there last August!”

The twins exchanged a mirrored look. “Dev—”

“Come on, Dipping Dots, you can’t leave me hanging forever,” Dev begged. “I know it was more than just some weird weather patterns! Just…just give me a hint at least! Was it ghosts? Aliens? …Alien ghosts?”

Dipper shot his sister a look, one that she returned with an understanding nod. “Dipper, stop trying to steal my boyfriend’s attention with your nerdy-nerd talk!” she said, loud enough for Dev to hear. “I wanna get as much talking time as I can with him before we get to town!”

With a smirk, he gave her ribs another nudge with his elbow. “Hey, Dev was a part of the Paranormal/Supernatural Club before you two started going out!” he pointed out. “So technically—aha, stop!”

His words dissolved into laughter as Mabel retaliated by putting as much of her weight on him as she could. “Technically, schmechnically, you can’t do nerdy-nerd stuff with Dev if you’re flat as a pancake!” she said, her body vibrating with giggles as she smushed against him.

“Dev, help, I’m being smothered!” Dipper called to the phone, between bouts of his own laughter. “Tell Mabel she’s cute or something!”

This earned another laugh from Dev in response, one warm and full of affection. “Mabel Syrup, could you please stop trying to kill my best friend and Paranormal/Supernatural Club co-president?”

Smiling wider, Mabel straightened herself upright in the seat and held the phone in her ear. “We~ell, since you’re using that nickname, I guess I can be merciful today!”

With a dramatic gag, Dipper pointed a finger at his throat in disgust. “Ugh, I said call her cute, not break out the pet names.”

“It’s not my fault she’s as sweet as her namesake.”

“It’s not her namesake!”

“Boys, boys,” Mabel interrupted with a giggle. “As fun as it is to both flirt with my boyfriend and annoy my brother at the same time, I do think we should circle back to the point Dip made earlier about my cell reception.”

She held the phone back up to her ear. “Since we’re almost at the Falls anyway, you wanna go ahead and hang up before the majestic oaks of Oregon do it for us?”

Dipper raised a finger. “Technically the trees around here are mostly firs and birch trees.”

“Oaks, Oregon…I wanted the words to sound all samey-samey,” Mabel pointed out. “And firs doesn’t start with an O.”

“...Neither does majestic?”

“Yeah, we can hang up for now,” Dev said. “I’m sure you guys probably wanna spend the rest of the day settling in, but if you don’t mind talking later tonight—”

“Uh, of course we can talk tonight~!” Mabel interrupted excitedly. “Not only that, I can introduce you to my Grunkles if they’re finished settling in by that point, too! And I’m sure Soos and Melody will want to say hi—ooh, and of course you can meet Candy and Grenda when we have our inevitable ‘Back In Gravity Falls’ sleepover—”

“Okay, maybe we slowly ease Dev into the weirdness that is Gravity Falls and everyone in it?” Dipper suggested. “Besides, I’d like some time to talk to them over the summer, too!”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Dev said. “The first thing, not the second. Are you forgetting who sought you out to join your club in the first place? And brought his own research material to the very first meeting?”

Dipper gently pulled the phone towards him. “Are you forgetting who’s actually been to Gravity Falls in the first place?”

“No, but I’m also not forgetting who’s keeping all the juicy details about what happened last summer to themselves,” Dev pointed out in return.

“Okay, okay,” Mabel said, pulling the phone back. “No more nerd talk about nerd things, you’re wasting all my minutes! Use your own minutes for that!”

She returned it to her ear with a wide grin. “But we can figure out a proper talking schedule later,” she said sweetly, then paused. “...After tonight though, because you already said we could talk and no take backs!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dev assured her. “Love you.”

“And I looooove—” Mabel wiggled her finger with a mischievous look before booping it against the screen of her phone. “—you~!”

“...Did you boop the phone?”

“Yeah-huh~!”

“Bye, Dev!” Dipper called as well. “...I know you two are having a moment, but I wanted to say bye, too!”

“Bye to both of you!” Dev replied. “Talk to you tonight!”

There was a click as the call ended and Mabel pressed the phone against her chest. “Ehehe, I love them!”

“So I’ve gathered,” Dipper said with a smile. “What’re you guys at now, seven months?”

“Seven months, and seventeen days~!” Mabel clarified, with a closing slap of her flip phone and a delighted kick of her feet. “Can you believe it? Last year I would’ve gone through at least seventy guys in that amount of time! Now look at me! Miss Lady-In-A-Serious-Relationship-With-One-Of-The-Best-Guys-In-The-World over here~!”

“You know that number’s a wild exaggeration, right?”

“You’re a wild exaggeration,” Mabel retorted, with a nudge to his shoulder. “And I like how you couldn’t even argue the ‘one of the best guys in the world’ thing, because you know it’s true! Well, he’s the best guy whenever he’s actually in guy mode, of course. Otherwise he’s just the best significant other! But right now, he’s the best guy in the world!

With a wide grin, she snaked an arm around Dipper’s shoulder before once again smushing most of her weight against him. “Except for thiiiiis best guy in the world, of course~!” she said, words slightly muffled from how her cheek was squished against his arm. “Who knows he absolutely doesn’t count when it comes to me talking about the best guys in the world, because it already goes without saying that he’s the best guy in the world!”

She gave him a squished little smile. “He knows that, right?”

With a warm smile of his own, Dipper gently pushed her back to her side of the bus seat. “He knows that. Although ‘best guy in the world’ is starting to sound like a fake sentence.”

“Haha, yeah,” Mabel agreed with a giggle. “I used it a lot, huh?”

An oink beneath their legs turned their attention to the underside of the seat in front of them, where a fat, pink hog peered up at them with a lazy tilt of his head.

With a squeal of utter delight, Mabel reached down and scooped him up in her arms. “Aww, we can’t forget about the other best guy in the world~!” she cooed, cradling him like a baby. “Are you having fun crawling around and eating all the abandoned wrappers and gum stuck to the underside of the seats?”

Waddles let out another oink and contently buried his snout in the bend of her arm, as if he considered himself nothing more than a simple lap dog. Despite his own amusement at the sight, Dipper raised an eyebrow at his sister. “Seriously, you should probably stop letting him do that before the driver gets fed up and makes us walk the rest of the way.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Mabel insisted. “This bus is probably the cleanest its ever been! If anything, the driver should be thanking Waddles for helping him out!”

After giving Waddles’ body a shake for additional emphasis, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Isn’t that right, you big, pink angel? You even missed your chance to say hi to Dev because you were too busy being the most helpful piggy around!”

“Too bad we couldn’t use him as a distraction,” Dipper said, and reached for his journal again. “You know Dev’s as crazy about him as you are.”

Mabel’s smile fell, and she tightened her embrace around Waddles’ body. “Right…”

Dipper’s hand froze less than an inch from the journal, and he gave her a sympathetic look. “The squishing me was a nice touch,” he said with a halfhearted smile of his own. “Really took his mind off the Weirdmageddon topic…”

With a sigh, he flipped it open to the page he’d been writing on and picked up his pencil. “You know, we could just ask Mayor Tyler if we can bend the rules a little bit and we can tell our buddy back home about what happened last summer.”

Mabel leaned her body back towards the window, her head hitting the glass with a light thump. “What if he doesn’t believe us?”

“Who, Mayor Tyler? I mean, if we promised that Dev wouldn’t go blabbing it to other people and told him about how obsessed he is with the town, he’d probably understand—”

“Dev, Dipper,” Mabel clarified. “What if Dev doesn’t believe us?”

“Have you met the guy?” Dipper asked. “Out of anyone back home, I feel like he’d be the first one to believe us. I mean, are we forgetting that this is the same person who swears up and down that they've kissed an alien before?"

A pause. "Before following that claim up with ‘but I’d rather kiss Mabel before kissing a thousand aliens’ like the hopeless romantic he is?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Mabel’s mouth, but disappeared just as quickly as it threatened to appear. “I mean, he does say that all the time. But…”

“But?”

Mabel let out an uncertain hum, but any further response was cut off by the sound of faint crackling from the bus’s loudspeaker. “Attention, passengers, we are approaching the city limits of Gravity Falls, and will be arriving within the town itself in a matter of minutes,” the driver’s voice rang out cheerfully. “Just in case anyone was interested in peering out their window as we passed by the welcome sign, for sentimental reasons.”

The twins shared a mirrored look before quickly scooting over to the window, just in time to see the familiar sign that marked the town’s border whiz past the bus.

It was a fleeting sight; one that came and went within seconds. But their silence continued for a just a bit longer after it passed, even as the endless line of trees finally began to melt into familiar homes and buildings.

Still keeping her attention fixed on the view outside, Mabel’s hand instinctively found her brother’s and gave it a light squeeze. “We’re back…”

Dipper nodded, squeezing her hand in return. “We’re back.”

They remained still, letting themselves be lost in the thrill of finally being back in that old, familiar town for just a few minutes longer, before the realization that they needed to be ready to exit the bus motivated them to finally move and start gathering up their belongings.

“Okay, since we’re now officially back in town,” Mabel began, setting Waddles aside so she could pull her bag to her lap. “What’re you looking forward to the most this summer?”

“Hmm, hard to say,” Dipper said, reaching for his own. “I mean, last year I spent most of the summer trying to uncover the mysteries behind the journal’s author, then spent the remaining time after that with the author himself!”

He unzipped the front and stuffed his journal inside. “Guess I’m just looking forward to spending more time with Grunkle Ford again, now that he doesn’t have to stay down in the basement and deal with all that Bill stuff,” he said. “I know I wanna tell him all about the stuff me and Dev have studied together, and—ooh, I really wanna introduce him to that DDnmD podcast we started listening to recently—”

“Hey, that was what I was looking forward to, too!” Mabel said delightedly. “Well, not the nerd stuff but the ‘spending time with Grunkle Ford’ stuff! You got to spend so much time with him last year, and I barely got to see him at all!”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Well, this year I’m determined to spend as much time with him as I possibly can! You know a guy who puts that much effort into his journals has to be a pro at scrapbooking!”

She reached into her bag and pulled something out with a wide grin, before holding it up for Dipper to see. “I even made him a personalized sweater, so he has another one to wear besides his red one!” she explained, pointing to a smiling picture of Ford on the front. “See? I knitted a happy little picture of him—” She moved her finger to the next one. “—and this one’s of the six-fingered hand that was on his journals—”

And finally her finger landed on the stitched writing at the bottom. “—and this part says ‘A-FORD-able! Not like ‘affordable’, but like ‘adorable with Ford!’’ …I was already halfway done when I remembered ‘affordable’ was already a word, so I just added that last part instead of undoing everything.”

While she stuffed the sweater back into her bag, Dipper added: “I think I’m also looking forward to just spending time with Grunkle Stan in general, too. I mean, sure, we got to spend a lot of time with him last year.”

He waved his hands. “But he was hiding such a big secret, one he had to deal with by himself. This year, he’s got nothing to hide!”

Mabel held up both pointer fingers. “Right! Because the something he had to hide is gonna be right there next to him! And the thing that was hiding no longer has to hide in any way!”

She smushed them together with silly little noises for emphasis. “And since Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford are getting along now, it means we can all spend time together like one big happy family!”

Satisfied with her own amateur pantomime, she dropped her hands and returned to her belongings. “Speaking of which, who did Grunkle Stan say was going to be greeting us at the bus stop?” she asked. “I know Soos and Grunkle Ford will be there, but I really hope Candy and Grenda can make it!”

She beamed widely. “Grenda said in her last letter that she’s been taking up wrestling, and that she learned a move that could possibly snap me in half! Although Candy discredited this claim with the fact that she only got a fractured disc when Grenda tried it on her, but you know what they say: practice makes perfect!”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “You guys can’t just hug each other?”

“We can hug as she’s breaking my spine in two!”

With a shrug, Dipper slung his bag over his shoulder. “Well, to answer your original question; yeah, Ford and Soos are gonna be there. Other than that, I’m not sure. Your friends being there is something you’d know more than I would, and I can’t think of anyone else who would come.”

He tapped a hand to his chin as he thought hard for a moment. “I know Soos and Melody wanted to throw that welcome-back party for us tomorrow, though. So maybe they’ll only have a small group of people at the bus stop today. You know, to give us time to get settled in without being bombarded by a billion people?”

Mabel stuck out her lip and gave the seat in front of them a defiant slam with her fists. “Boooooo, I want to be bombarded by people! I wanna be able to give out at least three-dozen hugs before Grenda snaps me in half like a twig!”

“I once again ask why you guys can’t just hug each each other.”

“Bombardment!” Mabel chanted, slamming her fist in rhythm. “Bombardment!”

There was another crackle of the loudspeakers over their heads as the driver spoke again: “Attention, passengers; this is a follow-up to the previous announcement, but there might be a bit of a delay in getting you to the next stop.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a curious look, before Dipper cupped his hands around his mouth. “Why?” he called towards the front of the bus.

“Has the traffic here gotten that bad in nine months?” Mabel added.

Another crackle from the intercom. “See for yourselves, kids.”

At the driver’s suggestion, the twins scooted out of their seats and into the aisleway, remaining bags in hand and Waddles at their heels as they made their way to the front of the bus. As they came to a stop near the bus driver’s seat, their eyes grew wide at the sight that awaited them in the street below.

To the eyes of an unknown tourist, it would look like nothing more than a dozen garden gnomes stacked atop each other before a collection of golf balls spilled all over the road.

To anyone who’d spent enough time in Gravity Falls, however—

“For the last time, Franz; either you cross the street quickly or we’re letting a car run you over.”

At the front of the collection of golfballs—or more accurately, small persons by the name of Lilliputtians who happened to strongly resemble golfballs—a blue ball crossed their arms with a sour look towards the gnome at the top of the pile. “And we’re telling you for the last time, Jeff, we’re going as fast as we can!” he argued in return. “It’s not like we can just stack ourselves on top of each other like you gnomes can!”

“You’re golf balls!” The gnome, Jeff, pointed out irritably. “You can roll!”

Franz scoffed and placed his hands on his hips. “Oh, so just because we happen to look like golf balls, you think we can roll everywhere?” he asked. “What about you gnomes, huh? Without linking up to each other, I’ll bet you couldn’t go more than a few feet without getting winded!”

Jeff crossed his own arms with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, well, you’ve never seen Shmebulock run after six nosefuls of mushroom spores.”

His point was emphasized by an enthusiastic “Shmebulock!” from one of the gnomes at the bottom of the snack.

From the bus, the twins shared a knowing look before Mabel turned to the bus driver. “You know what? You can just let us off here, we can walk the rest of the way.”

“And we’ll see what we can do about clearing the road for you,” Dipper added.

With a shrug, the driver opened the doors to the bus and the two headed down the stairs; Mabel bounded out the door and onto the sidewalk with a delighted laugh while Dipper followed behind with more reserved steps.

Despite their different methods of stair descension, their smiles were equally bright as they looked to the smaller beings still crowded in the middle of the road. “So, what do you think’s going on?” Dipper asked.

Mabel turned back to the bus steps and reached out to grab Waddles, who had slowly and piggishly ambled down the steps after them. “Not sure, but isn’t it wild to see both groups just…out in the middle of the street like this?”

“Right?!” Dipper said with enthusiastic agreement. “It’s like—not even five minutes back in town and we’re already getting a taste of peak Gravity Falls weirdness!”

After setting Waddles down to the sidewalk, Mabel clapped her hands together with just as much gusto. “I know, isn’t it great?”

“I’m warning you for the last time, Jeff: get out of our way before we knock your bearded butts down like rolling pins!” Franz insisted firmly. “You wanna see how fast we can actually roll? Keep pushing my buttons and you’ll find out!”

The twins exchanged a look. “Right, we should probably do the thing we got off the bus early to do,” Dipper said. “Otherwise we just made getting to the shack harder for ourselves for no reason.”

“Well, at the very least you can add ‘breaking up a fight between golf ball people and gnomes’ to the list of cool stories to tell Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford,” Mabel pointed out. “I’m almost positive they haven’t had a chance to do that yet!”

Dipper let out a laugh. “Weren’t you just saying a little bit ago that almost positive isn’t completely positive?”

With a laugh of her own, Mabel pushed a lighthearted fist to his arm before turning her gaze to the groups bickering in the road. “So how are we doing this?”

A shrug. “I mean, smartest method would just be to ask them why they’re fighting.”

“Very true!” Mabel said. “And who knows? Maybe if we know why they’re fighting, we can help them work it out peacefully.”

“Or we can at least distract them long enough to get them outta the road,” Dipper pointed out. “Then if they wanna continue the fight on the sidewalk, we just start heading for the shack.”

“That is also something we can do~!”

She cupped her hands around her mouth and called loudly: “Hey, boys! What’s with all the commotion and bus blocking?”

“Yeah, none of you are more than two feet tall, and you should probably get out of the road before cars realize they can just run over you,” Dipper added helpfully.

From his spot in the road, Jeff let out a scoff. “Maybe on our own, but we gnomes could always just—”

He fell silent, the delayed realization of whom he was speaking to finally settling in as he looked to Dipper and Mabel with wide eyes. And he was not the only one; the attention of both gnomes and Lilliputtians alike were now focused solely on Dipper and Mabel.

“Well, shiver me timbers, amongst other pirate-y exclamations of surprise!” One of the pirates piped up. “The Saviors of the Falls be returned to us at last!”

“The Hugelings are back!” A knight Lilliputtian added excitedly.

The rest of the group (both gnome and golfball alike) let out similar exclamations of delight, their crosswalk argument momentarily forgotten as they all hurried to the sidewalk to greet the twins.

And once the bus driver took advantage of the cleared road to continue onwards, the commotion was enough to also draw the attention of other nearby townsfolk. Townsfolk who—Dipper and Mabel observed as they got a good look around—were not quite as human as they had been the year prior.

A fair number of them were still clearly human; Tad Strange could be seen purchasing a loaf of bread through the window of a nearby store, while the man known as the ‘Free Pizza’ guy was taking a leisurely stroll just a short distance up the road.

But there was also no mistaking the mermaid in a small, mobile tank at an outside table for the nearby bistro, pulling her attention from her waterproof phone long enough to look their way.

Or the Abominable Bro-man stepping out of a nearby Jeep, the remaining three Bro-men still seated in the vehicle and pumping their fists in the air as they chanted his name with fraternal unity. A chant that quickly melted into the twins' names when the original Bro-man pointed them out with a look of pure, righteous elation.

And there was certainly no missing the flock of Eye-Bats resting comfortably on the nearby powerlines alongside a group of ordinary woodpeckers, or the Woodpecker-peckers that had taken up residence upon the original birds’ backs.

While the peckers and pecker-peckers showed little interest in the kids, one Eye-Bat shifted its attention down towards them with mild curiosity, before turning to the nearest Woodpecker-pecker and shooting a burst of energy from its cornea. In a flash, the miniature bird had been transformed into solid stone, the extra weight causing the powerline to sag beneath the original—but otherwise unbothered—Woodpecker.

As more townsfolk—human and supernatural alike—also turned their attention towards the kids, Dipper cast an amused look to his sister. “You still in the mood to get bombarded by a bunch of people?”

Mabel giggled in response, and carefully picked up one of the Lilliputtians for a hug. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to prove, this is awesome! It’s like our own little welcome parade!”

“Well, if this isn’t a delightful delight of a sight~!”

At the sound of another voice, both turned their attention towards a thin man approaching them from further down the sidewalk. His overall demeanor was riddled with giddiness and a cartoonish banner that read ‘Mayor’ was displayed prominently across his chest. “Dipper and Mabel Pines! I was wondering when you two would finally get back to town!”

He waggled a finger at them. “And here I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow night to say hello to you kids again!”

“Hi, Mayor Tyler,” Mabel said, giving him a wave with the arm that wasn't wrapped around the Lilliputtian, before using it to gesture to the rest of them. “I see someone’s been having a busy nine months~!”

Dipper nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s so cool to see the gnomes and everyone else just…wandering around the town like this!”

From where the gnomes were gathered, Jeff let out a smug little chuckle. “Hear that, Franz? We got a personal shoutout and everything.”

Franz turned to glare at him. “You know he was only using you pointy-hatted jerks as an example!”

“I’ll make an example outta you, you round son of a—”

Their heated exchange from before returned in full swing as the two groups began to argue again, the Lilliputtian in Mabel’s arms leaping back down to join the fight with balled fists and a collection of gnome-targeted obscenities.

In response, Mabel’s gestured arm shifted to a pointing finger. “Oh, right, they were fighting in the middle of the street and blocked our bus.”

With a sigh, Tyler pressed a hand to his forehead. "Again?"

Near his foot, a French Lilliputtian piped up with a mighty: "Sacré bleu!"— one that likely translated out to "Again!"—before he hurled his body at the nearest gnome.

While they watched this unfold, Dipper looked back to Tyler. “So is this, like…normal for them?”

“I’m afraid so,” Tyler replied wearily. "They simply cannot stop butting heads no matter how I try to clear the air—oh, hold on, I worry they might start biting if I don’t do something—”

He moved towards the center of the combined groups, carefully tiptoeing between the small golf balls with an ease that implied he had done this countless times before, and came to a stop near both Franz and Jeff. “Now, boys, you know we’ve talked about this no less than a week ago!”

Franz pointed a finger at Jeff, eyebrows furrowed. “He was trying to rush us again—”

“—and I was pointing out how, again, they can just roll across the crosswalk!” Jeff argued in retaliation. “I just don’t understand how they’ve got the ability to move that fast, but then get mad at people for pointing out they have it!”

Franz shook a fist at him. “Oh, I’ll show you fast, with how fast I can ram my hand up your—”

“Okay, gentleman,” Tyler interrupted quickly, and took a knee so he could be closer to them. “Jeff, you know what I’ve said about antagonizing the Lilliputtians. If you and your boys can’t play nice, I might have to resort to—well, looking elsewhere for a crossing guard!”

“Wh—aw, come on!” Jeff protested. “That’ll be the fifth job we’ve lost in a month! Do you know how hard it is to nab the attention of a potential queen if we go back to being a bunch of unemployed chumps?”

Franz rolled his eyes. “Yeah, pretty sure it’s not the lack of a job they hate about you.”

“Why, you little—”

Jeff launched his entire body at Franz as the two of them began to squabble again, and Tyler reached out to grab them both by the back of their shirts. “Hey, come on now! I’m a fan of a good fight as much as the next guy, but you’re setting a bad example in front of our special guests—”

This earned a shrug from the twins. “I mean, we really don’t care,” Dipper said.

“One of them tried to kill us, the other tried to marry me,” Mabel added. “We’ve kinda already seen both of them at their worst already.”

“Need some help?”

A familiar voice from behind—followed by a massive shadow enveloping both of them in shade—turned both twins around, only for them to be greeted by the sight of a tall Manotaur towering high above them. But what really grabbed their attention was the teenager seated on his left shoulder, smile wide as she hopped down to the sidewalk in front of them.

Her hair was much shorter than the last time they had seen her, just barely peeking out from beneath the faded hat that she had swapped with Dipper for her own. And her original green flannel shirt had been exchanged for an unbuttoned red one over a white tank top.

Despite the differences in her appearance, however, there was no mistaking who she was—and her old hiking boots had barely touched the pavement before the twins rushed to embrace her in a joint hug. “Wendy!”

With a laugh, Wendy slunk an arm around each of their shoulders to hug them in return. “And here I thought you squirts would beat me up to the Shack,” she said, moving her hands to playfully noogie the tops of their heads. “What’re you doing all the way down here?”

Mabel gestured to the small crowd before them. “Well, our bus had to stop because—”

“Oh, for the love of—” Wendy interrupted with a sigh, before looking over to Tyler. “Are they fighting again?”

From where he stood—desperately holding the two leaders at arm’s length to prevent more blood from being drawn—Tyler’s expression melted into a look of relief. “Wendy! Thank goodness you’re here!” he said. “Uh, would you and Chutzpar mind—”

She crossed her arms with a miffed look. “You know, people are going to think it’s unprofessional that the mayor has to keep getting help from outside sources to solve the town’s issues—”

“Wendy, please?”

Wendy rolled her eyes, and looked up towards the Manotaur beside her. “Whaddaya think, Big Guy?”

“Many months ago, I would’ve encouraged the idea of using violence to solve one’s problems,” Chutzpar said stoically. “And I still would, were it not an inconvenience to Mayor Tyler.”

He held up a finger. “Punching out your feelings is not inherently a bad way to solve some issues, but there is a time and place for it,” he continued. “And right in the middle of town where people are looking to enjoy their day isn’t the right time nor the right place! So KNOCK IT OFF or I’ll knock YOU OFF!”

He punctuated the last sentence with a warning stomp of his left hoof, one strong enough to rumble the sidewalk beneath everyone’s feet. And once he was finished, he looked to Wendy hopefully—as if he were expecting her to praise him for his answer—and she gave an approving nod before looking to the crowd: “You guys chill now, or does he need to do that again?”

Thankfully the fighting had immediately ceased at Chutzpar’s warning stomp, both gnome and Lilliputtians alike trembling in shock. “H-hey, that’s a really rude way to get someone to stop doing something, you know!” Franz said irritably.

“Yeah,” Jeff piped up in agreement. “You can’t just use your Manotaur buddy to push us around like that!”

“Yeah, well, maybe next time you’ll stop fighting when Tyler asks you to stop first,” Wendy said. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it? You guys are actually agreeing on something and have chilled out a little bit, right?”

Franz and Jeff exchanged a skeptical look, before they both turned away in disgust with halfhearted mutters of “I guess so.” and “Whatever.” in unison.

“Guys...”

Jeff crossed his arms. “Fine, I guess it doesn’t really matter how long they take to get across the street," he said defeatedly. "Besides, the longer we man the cross work, the more chances we get to snag attention from potential queen candidates."

“And I guess we could speed up a bit when we walk,” Franz added. “We’ll probably have to now, if we wanna make it to the sticker store and back to the golf course before our lunch break is over.”

Tyler clasped his hands together. “There, you see? Problem-solving!” he said delightedly. “Now, let’s clear off the sidewalk and give Dipper and Mabel some breathing room, okay?”

With only a small handful of grumbling, the gnomes and Lilliputtians shuffled back towards the crosswalk. Once they had properly dispersed, Tyler stood up to full height again and clasped his hands together. “Thank you so much, Wendy, you are an angel in lumberjack’s clothing~!”

Wendy crossed her arms again, expression souring at his compliment. “I meant what I said; you’ve really gotta get a handle on doing stuff like this by yourself,” he said. “The town’s not gonna take a guy who can’t even break up a fight between some gnomes and sentient golf balls seriously.”

Tyler chuckled nervously and once again pressed a hand to his forehead. “Well, regardless, your help is always appreciated!” he said, with a look to Chutzpar. “And thank you once again for all your help, big fella. I’m actually glad I caught you, I was actually on my way over to the lumbermill to discuss Thursday’s plans with Dan—”

This earned him an annoyed scoff from Wendy, while Chutzpar simply nodded. “Yes, that is the reason we were on our way to see you—”

“I was on my way to the Mystery Shack.”

“—why we were on our way to see you, before we made our way to the Mystery Shack,” Chutzpar continued, paying no mind to Wendy’s interruption. “I come with a message from him. And a gift.”

He looked to Wendy, who gave him a nod far more halfhearted than his own, before he held out the small object he had been carrying in one of his mighty fists.

It was a small, wood-carved animal (a bear to be specific), and it was clear that every notch in the wood had been carefully sculpted with care. A care that Tyler recognized with a look that was far less whimsical than his usual demeanor, and more of a genuine tenderness as he took the carving in his hand. “Oh, that darn man really knows how to spoil me rotten, doesn’t he?”

His smile widened as he looked back to Chutzpar. “You said he also had a message for me?”

Chutzpar nodded and reached into his pocket for a small stack of index cards. After taking a moment to shuffle them, he cleared his throat and began to read: “‘I am looking forward to Thursday. I was wondering if you would wear the panther shirt to dinner that I bought you in that two-for-one special. Panthers are powerful, and could tear a puma to—”

He casually flipped to the next index card, before gripping the entire stack tightly with both hands and ripping it in half a powerful yell of: ”—SHREDS!!!!’”

He held his stance for a moment, before slipping back into a more relaxed pose. “He specifically requested that I rip them up when I said ‘shreds’,” he explained. “It was an opportunity to be needlessly loud and violent in a healthy fashion, so I was in full support of the idea.”

“Aww, a show of force and a clever pun?” Tyler said, pressing his hands to his flushed face. “He really does know what I like~!”

He gave Chutzpar a wink. “Well, you be sure to tell Dan that I will certainly be wearing the panther shirt on Thursday!”

“Super,” Wendy said, her tone deadpan. “Can we go to the Shack now?”

“Of course, sorry for holding you up,” Tyler said with a laugh. “I suppose I should be getting back to work as well. This town’s not gonna mayor itself, after all~!”

“It might if you don’t learn how to break up fights without help,” Wendy muttered under her breath.

Tyler gave the group a little wave with the hand that held the wood carving. “Oh, and welcome back to town, Dipper and Mabel~! Can’t wait for the party tomorrow!”

With that, he turned and headed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the group, leaving Wendy to turn her attention to the twins. “So, you guys need a second to unpack everything that just happened, or are we good to continue on to the Shack?”

Dipper and Mabel shared a look, before Dipper took the initiative: “Yeah, so I have about a dozen questions—”

“What are the gnomes and Lilliputtians and all the other creatures doing walking around town?” Mabel interrupted quickly, with a wide gesture of her arms. “What’re you doing with a Manotaur? And why’s he giving Mayor Tyler gifts from your dad?!”

Dipper pointed to his sister. “Actually yeah, she covered pretty much all the questions I had,” he said, turning his full attention to her. “Except for the last part, because I feel like that’s pretty obvious, Mabel.”

Mabel placed her hands on her hips. “Duh-doy, I know it’s obvious. I just want to know when it started being a thing,” she explained. “I don’t remember hearing about it in any of the letters we got.”

Wendy made a face. “Yeah, it’s…kinda new.”

“They have been dating for four months,” Chutzpar pointed out.

“It’s new,” Wendy said flatly, before giving a shrug to the twins. “Anyway, the other stuff’s pretty easy to answer. Wanna swap stories as we head to the shack?”

“Yeah!” they answered in unison, before Dipper looked further up the road. “Kinda wish we’d asked the bus driver to stick around, though. The walk to the shack from here’s going to take forever.”

Wendy looked up at Chutzpar with a smirk, and he nodded knowingly in return. “Sounds like the two of you require a ride.”

Before either twin could question what he meant by ‘ride’, they suddenly found themselves being scooped up from the sidewalk and settled onto his muscular shoulders.

Wendy watched with a smile as they adjusted themselves. “You two chill up there?”

From the left shoulder, Dipper gave a thumbs up. “All good!”

Doubling over in a fit of giggles, Mabel reached over and grabbed hold of Chutzpar’s horn to steady herself. “Oh, this is way better than taking the bus~!”

Wendy let her gaze fall to the sidewalk below, where Waddles was staring up expectantly. “And while he’s got you, I’ll get—”

She bent down to pick him up, lifting him with just as little issue as his owner, and adjusted him until he was situated comfortably in her arms. “Woah, buddy, you feel a lot heavier than fifteen pounds this year!”

“I’ve fed him only the finest of leftover table scraps,” Mabel said proudly.

“And he used to sneak into my junk food stash at least once a week before I found a way to stop him,” Dipper said, giving Waddles a pointed look.

Waddles gave him a proud snort in response as Wendy took another quick glance at the sidewalk again. “Alright, no bags or any other random pets that you might’ve picked up since last year?”

“Bags are in our arms,” Dipper said, giving his a pat for good measure.

“And sadly no,” Mabel added in a solemn tone. “Mom said owning Waddles is like owning three pets in one. She says it as a compliment, because that just means he’s three times as lovable. But like we said before, he also just eats about as much as three animals so she don’t see any reason to get a fourth.”

This earned another proud snort from Waddles and a laugh from Wendy. “Sounds like an okay to begin walking, then.”

Chutzpar nodded, the sidewalk rumbling with every thunderous step he took as the group began their trek towards the winding trail on the edge of town.

— — — — — — —

“Mr. Pines, there’s no need to be so nervous.”

“What makes you think I’m nervous?”

From beside Soos, Grenda raised her hand. “The fact that you’re pacing in a circle so much, you’re practically digging a new bottomless pit with your feet?”

Candy turned to her, eyes bright with inspiration. “Ooh, if there are two of them, maybe they could be advertised as twin bottomless pits!” she said, holding up a finger on each hand. “Twin pits for twin pairs—“

She brought her fingers together with a smile. “—of twin Pines!”

Grenda let out a loud cackle, and gave her shoulder a hearty slap. “God, Candy, save some of that genius for when Mabel gets here!”

While Candy rubbed her now-sore shoulder with a wince, Soos gave the two of them a thumbs-up. “But I’m adding that to the list of attraction ideas when we get back to the shack. It’s a good one, dude.”

Stan looked down at the thin dent in the gravel that he’d worn down with his shoes, and crossed his arms with a gruff sigh. A sigh that was interrupted by the familiar sensation of a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

His mouth curled into a smile as he locked eyes with the hand's owner, a near-identical set of features to his own staring back at him. “They raise a good point, Stanley,” Ford said. “Mostly about the nervousness, not the second bottomless pit idea.”

At that, he gave the girls a thumbs up. “But that is some impeccable wordplay, Candy!”

“My name gives me plenty of chances to make puns in everyday conversation,” Candy informed him with a smile. “It’s second nature to me at this point~!”

Stan tsked at that, although his smile didn’t disappear. “And who’s to say that pit-idea of theirs ain’t exactly what I’m doing?” he said. “Building some kinda new, twin-themed shack attraction with my feet?”

Candy held up another finger. “Shack-traction!”

“I said, stop! You’re gonna use up all the good ones!”

While the girls chattered on, Ford turned his gaze from them to Soos. “Actually, Soos, don’t you and the girls want to go, uh—” A pause. “—discuss that second bottomless pit idea further?”

Grenda ceased her attempt to give Candy a noogie of approval, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Why? He already said we’d—”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Pines!” Soos interrupted quickly, taking each of the girls’ hands in his own. “I’ll keep ‘em busy!”

Ford gave him an appreciative nod, one that Soos returned with a smile as he lead them away; not too far from the bus stop, but far enough to give the older men some space.

Once the three of them were at a distance that would make eavesdropping impossible, Stan playfully nudged his brother’s arm. “Real subtle there, Poindexter.”

“Wasn’t trying to be,” Ford said, as he turned back around to face him. “And even if I was, it’d be a lot more convincing than you’re trying to be about not being nervous.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m the King of Subtlety! Or are you forgetting the New Jersey Lil' Wise Guy Subtlety Competition of 1956, where I took first place?”

“It was 1957,” Ford corrected him. “And I distinctly remember you quite literally taking the first place medal and attempting to pawn it off to one of the customers in the shop. Which failed, because you were three.”

Stan pressed a hand to his forehead. “Was it? Could’ve sworn it was—” With a huff, he waved it away. “Whatever, so maybe I’m a little nervous about seeing my great-niece and nephew again for the first time in nine months,” he said with a halfhearted shrug. “So what?”

“As I’m sure we’ve discussed at least two dozen times on the ride back to town—”

“Three dozen.”

“—there’s no reason to be nervous about seeing Dipper and Mabel again,” Ford finished. “If all the letters they sent to the Mystery Shack are anything to go off, they’re just as excited to see us as we are them.”

Stan waved his hand again, this time with the addition of a scoff. “Oh, I’m not worried about all that,” he explained. “I know the kids love us, and I know as soon as they step off that bus, I’m gonna put on the tough-as-nails, no-nonsense Grunkle act and pretend I wouldn’t erase my own mind for ‘em again if they needed me to—”

“Don’t joke about that.”

A shared look of somberness crossed their faces for a brief instant, before Stan’s gaze fell to the ground again. “It ain’t us I’m worried about,” he repeated. “They headed outta this place only a week after we barely managed to save it from going to heck in a handbasket. Barely managed to save them…”

His gaze returned to Ford. “Just don’t want them comin’ back to a whole boatload of new things to be worried about, you know?”

The hand on Stan’s shoulder moved to Ford’s own hair, which he pushed back with a tired sigh. “Don’t I know it. I’ve had this pit in my stomach for about two weeks now, both from the excitement of getting to spend the full summer with my great-niece and nephew and—”

He paused, before letting his hand fall back to his side with a weak laugh. “Well, I guess it was inevitable that our return to town would be accompanied by some…complicated emotions.”

Forgetting his own nerves for a moment, Stan’s attention immediately snapped to his brother. The shift in Ford’s features was subtle, as it always was whenever the topic of Bill came up in passing. But the pain behind Ford’s eyes, a pain that held the weight of the past thirty-plus years, and the way his entire body tensed from the memories that Stan could only assume made up that weight—

Stan shoved his hands in his pockets with a sigh. “Psh, listen to me gettin’ all worked up over the kids, when I should’ve been asking if you were alright.”

Ford looked to him, eyebrow raised. “Wh—no, that’s not the point. The point is—”

He was cut off by Stan slinging an arm around his shoulders, his knees buckling slightly from the extra weight. “The point is we’re both stressed,” Stan said. “And if we’re both stressed, then the kids are gonna end up stressed as well and that’ll just have the opposite effect of what we want. Like that law. You know, from that one guy?”

With his free hand, he snapped his fingers thoughtfully as he racked his brain for the answer. “Somethin’, somethin’, every action’s got a reaction and it’s opposite?”

An amused smile spread across Ford’s face. “Are you referring to Sir Isaac Newton and his laws of motion?” he asked. “Those laws by that world-renowned philosopher?”

“Hey, you’re the one that finished high school, Smart Guy, you tell me!”

Satisfied with his answer, he shifted the arm around Ford’s shoulder to pull him into a proper headlock. Ford attempted to slink out from beneath his brother’s embrace with a laugh, but unfortunately the past forty years had done little to weaken Stan’s technique and kept him locked as firmly in place as it had during their childhood.

On the other hand, three decades of wandering the Multiverse had provided Ford with a few defensive maneuvers of his own. Combined with spending the past nine months on a fishing boat together, it had taken little time for him to readapt to his brother’s attempts at rough-housing—

His gaze fell to Stan’s exposed ribs, to which he delivered a light—yet firm—jab with his elbow.

—and even less time for him to find the most effective methods of countering them.

Sure enough, Stan released him with a surprised yelp, one that melted into a fit of rough laughter as Ford effortlessly slipped out of his grasp. “Cheap shot.”

“I believe you’re the last person to talk when it comes to fighting dirty, Stanley,” Ford replied with a smug grin.

“Oh, I’ll show ya dirty—”

The laughter doubled as the two of them spent another moment attempting to one-up the other in lighthearted fisticuffs, until the distant, rumbling sound of tires against asphalt pulled them back to reality. And if the sight of the approaching bus alone hadn’t been enough, Grenda’s boisterous cry of “THE BUS IS COMING!” as the rest of the group hurried back to rejoin them would’ve done the trick.

As they straightened themselves out again in preparation to greet the kids, the brothers exchanged another look. One that clearly displayed their shared nervousness that even rough-housing hadn’t completely eliminated.

It was Stan who broke the awkward silence first, mouth curling into a halfhearted smile. “Guess we’d better give that Newton chump a call, huh?”

Ford managed a weak smile in return. “You realize you’ve wildly misinterpreted the laws of motion and their relation to the situation at hand, don’t you?”

“And you realize you’re a giant nerd, right?” Stan countered.

“Well, regardless of misinterpretation, you do raise a good point,” Ford said. “If we’re both stressed, then the kids are bound to pick up on it and get stressed in turn.”

He inhaled slowly, and exhaled slower. “It’s a new summer. A chance for everyone to start over.”

“You know it,” Stan said, lightly touching his knuckles against Ford’s arm. “And hey, uh—that doesn’t stop at summer. We don’t have to do anything alone ever again, right?”

They exchanged a look, silently lingering in their shared understanding for a moment before Ford spoke again: “You’re right, Stanley. We don’t have to do anything alone. Not now, not ever again.”

The two remained still for a moment more, before Stan reached over to give him a nudge. “And y’know, if that doesn’t work, I’m pretty sure I saw some kinda zombie-summoning spell in one of those nerd books of yours.”

He crossed his arms. “I know we chucked them down into the Bottomless Pit, but I also know for a fact that you’ve got one’a’those smart-guy photographic-memories and could probably recite it off the top of your head.”

“Are you suggesting I use necromancy to summon Sir Isaac Newton?” Ford asked, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “To prove his first law that you seem insistent on misinterpreting?”

“I mean, I ain’t telling you to give him a kiss on the cheek or nothin’,” Stan said.

Their smiles widened in amused unison as the bus finally slowed to a stop, the creaking of the brakes echoing loudly through the forest around them. Almost as if they were announcing the long-awaited arrival of the teenagers on board to anything within earshot.

And as the group watched, the older adults with tense shoulders while Soos and the girls all leaned into each other with excited anticipation, the doors of the bus slid open to reveal—

“Are you all looking to get on?”

—nothing more than the bus driver.

Candy blinked in confusion. “Have Dipper and Mabel turned invisible since we last saw then?”

Stan’s brow furrowed, balling one hand into a warning fist as he stared at the driver. “Yeah, pal, what gives?! Where’s our kids?”

“The ones from earlier?” the driver asked. “Oh, they got off somewhere in town. There were a buncha golfballs and gnomes in the road, said they’d take care of it and for me to just go on ahead without ‘em.”

He pressed a hand to his chin. "Good kids, though! The bus floor's practically sparkling thanks to that pet pig of theirs!"

“Did they tell you if they were going to walk the rest of the way or not?” Ford asked.

“I believe that’s what they said,” the driver said. “But seriously, is no one here going to get on?”

A varying chorus of ‘No’s earned the group a closed door, before the bus continued onwards down the road. After it eventually descended down a hill and out of sight, Grenda’s shoulders fell. “Aw, man! I was gonna pile drive Mabel into the ground as soon as she got off the bus! Now our whole ‘Welcome Back To The Falls’ greeting is ruined!”

Candy patted her arm sympathetically. “I am sure she would’ve appreciated the effort regardless.”

“Of course she would!” Grenda lamented, her loud voice booming through the nearby wood. “She’s an angel who appreciates when we go the extra mile!”

“Back in town for five minutes and they’re already getting caught up in some kind of weird shenanigans,” Ford said, swelling with pride. “They’re a couple of Pines, alright.”

Stan slapped a hand over his eyes, and dragged it down the rest of his face. “Yeah, a pair from your side of the family, maybe.”

It was said in exasperation, but there was an undeniable fondness in his tone. One that transferred to his expression as he turned to the rest of the group. “Alright, on one hand: the kids know the way to the Shack like the backs of their own hands and they’ll probably get here just fine on foot,” he pointed out. “On the other—”

“Getting here could take a while and none of us want to wait that long to see them again, so we go and meet them halfway?” Soos guessed.

“You got it.”

From beside his brother, Ford shot a glance down the road from whence the bus had came. “Looks like halfway might be closer than we think.”

He pointed a finger for emphasis, and the rest of the group followed his gesture to the sight of an approaching Manotaur coming up the road. One that was delightfully conversing with the two thirteen-year-olds seated on each of his shoulders, and the sixteen-year-old walking beside him.

A conversation that had been clearly happening since the four of them had been back in town, Dipper and Mabel’s attention fully fixed on Wendy as she continued to speak: “—and after everyone teamed up during Weirdmageddon, the vibes of the town just kinda shifted. As if a lot of the weird stuff in town suddenly realized: ‘Hey, we’re not much of a mystery anymore so there’s not really a reason to keep hiding’, and the people in town realized they weren’t as weird and terrifying as they originally thought.”

She pressed a finger to her temple. “Combine that with the Society of the Blind Eye going belly up and leaving no one around to go blasting memories out of people’s heads—” Then pressed her hands together and laced her fingers for emphasis. “—everyone and everything just kinda started mushing together over time.”

“Manly Dan caught news of us Manotaurs when we were forced to relocate our Man Cave,” Chutzpar added. “Impressed by our manliness and feats of strength, he offered us jobs in his lumberyard. We told him we’d only accept if the toughest combatants from his family defeated us in battle.”

“And you guys lost to him?” Mabel guessed.

“Not to him.”

Chutzpar cast a gaze down at Wendy, and the twins followed suit in the hopes of further elaboration. “Originally, it was just going to be Dad and my brothers in the fight,” she explained. “Not because Dad didn’t think to ask me; I was at work at the time and happened to come home just as all of them were getting their butts handed to ‘em on a silver platter.”

“It was a mighty battle of strength and determination,” Chutzpar said in a faraway tone. “They fought well, even if their efforts were inevitably in vain.”

“Nearly in vain,” Wendy corrected. “But then I showed up and volunteered to finish the fight.”

“And they let you?”

“Of course not, the big meatheads all laughed at the idea of fighting a girl. But then I punched one of ‘em in the gut, and suplexed another into the ground, where he got stuck by his horns.”

This got a laugh out of her. “Taking down the rest wasn’t too hard, since Dad and the others had already worn most of 'em down. But even if they hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been difficult. Their fighting style was all punch, no technique. Even an amateur could’ve taken all of them down with a few well-placed hits.”

She shrugged with amusement. “That was also why Dad wasn’t able to win against them; he fights the exact same way. It was just lunkhead against lunkhead out there, swinging fists wildly until at least one of ‘em hit something. And unfortunately for my lunkheaded family, they didn’t have as many fists as the Manotaurs to keep swinging around. Until I showed up, at least.”

While the twins giggled at the visual image, Chutzpar gave a stoic nod. “The Manotaurs lost the battle that day, but it was a loss we hold with pride,” he said, with a shift of the arm that held Dipper. “One that taught us that—between her and the things you taught us last year, Destructor—we have plenty to learn about what it means to be men.”

He gave his chest a hearty thump. “And that sometimes that manliest men among us are actually girls!”

Dipper raised a mildly-confused eyebrow at Wendy, who shrugged in response. “Eh, they’re still a little confused but it’s better than where they were last year,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Not to mention being called the Manliest Man in Gravity Falls kinda hits in a way I’m not complaining about—”

“Kids!”

At the sound of another voice hailing them from further ahead, Dipper and Mabel turned their gazes forward to see their welcome party hurrying towards them from the opposite direction. Grenda and Candy were bringing up the rear with Soos, while Ford was keeping a steady pace in the middle.

But at the very front of the group, Stan was charging towards them with a speed and passion that couldn’t be matched by anyone else.

Except perhaps by Mabel, who had quickly jumped down from Chutzpar’s shoulder at the sound of his voice and began to sprint towards her great-uncle at Mach speed. “Grunkle Stan!”

It was a miracle that the two of them remained standing, with how hard they crashed into one another in a bone-crushing embrace; Mabel linking her arms around Stan’s neck like a spider monkey while he spun her around with a hearty belly laugh.

Only for that miracle to shatter when the embrace of two became three as Dipper caught up to them, and all of them tumbled to the ground in a mess of laughter. “What, are you kids tryna kill me before we even get to the Shack?” Stan asked, slinging an arm around Dipper’s body. “I don’t remember the two’a’you being this big last year.”

Mabel let out a little giggle and pressed her hands to his face. “Yeah, well, you weren’t this hairy last year!” she pointed out in return. “I mean you were still really hairy, but now you’ve got a full-grown beard!”

“Sure do!” Stan said brightly, and patted the hair covering his chin. “Ol’ Poindexter and I made a decision early on that if we were spendin’ our days as men of the sea, then we were sure as heck gonna look the part!”

Mabel pressed her own hands to her mouth, stifling a laugh. “You sound like Dipper at Hanukkah! He was soooooo excited to show Grandpa Shermie his beard~!”

The last word was said with clear amusement, and Dipper shrank a bit before slapping his hands over his face. “Mabel, come on, you don’t have to—”

“Oh, didja grow one too?” Stan asked, peering at him. “Come on, Slick, let’s see those Pines genetics at work.”

After a moment of hesitation, Dipper nervously lowered his hands and Stan leaned closer to examine the few, noticeable hairs on his chin. “I know it’s not much,” Dipper explained quickly. “But it’s more than I had last year! A-and Mom says that I’m bound to get more as I get older!”

With a proud laugh, Stan reached up to ruffle his hat. “You kidding? That’s more than I had at that age!” he said. “You be proud of those few hairs, and don’t let your sister steal ‘em for her scrapbook.”

“Too late,” Mabel said brightly. “I stole both one from the chin and one from the shin~! He has some there, too!”

Dipper gave her a pointed look, before turning back to Stan with a more confident smile. “I’d be more annoyed at her for that if she wasn’t right,” he said, and held up his leg. “Because look, I got so much on my legs, too!”

“Woa-hoh, get a load of Mister Big Man over here!” Stan said, and brought him closer for a noogie. “Those genetics really are kickin’ in early for you, huh?”

“He’s not the only one they’ve kicked in for,” Mabel added. “Or should I say—”

She kicked out one of her own legs with a cheeky grin. “—kicked~!”

There was a moment of pause, before she gave her leg another wiggle. “You get it because—”

“Mabel also got leg hair,” Dipper clarified. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

“I tried shaving it at first, but it just made my legs soooooo itchy,” Mabel said. "So now I just have built-in leg warmers!”

“I’d suggest the fire method, but it’s far more effective at removing facial hair than body hair,” a voice behind them said. “Also something tells me that your parents wouldn’t be too happy if we sent you back home with burns on your legs.”

The trio looked up to see Ford standing before them, a hand outstretched. “Room in the dirt for one more?”

A series of grins were exchanged before three hands reached for Ford’s in unison and pulled him down to the ground with them. “It’s good to see you again, Grunkle Ford!” Dipper said.

“Especially since we actually know you exist now!” Mabel added. “This time last year, we still thought Grunkle Stan was you! And then when we did find out that you were you and he was him, we only got to spend a little bit of time with you!”

Her arms moved from around Stan’s neck to Ford's, her spider-monkey grip once again unbreakable as she hugged him tight. “But this year, we get to spend aaaaallllllll summer with both our Grunkles!”

Ford’s smile widened and he slinked an arm around her as Stan piped up with: “That’s right, Pumpkin! No more mysteries or weird demons or monsters or anything that’s gonna get in the way of me spendin’ time with you kids and my brother!”

“Well, I mean, a monster here and there’s not a bad thing—” Ford begin, just as Dipper finished with a: “I wouldn’t mind a mystery or two, honestly.”

The four of them doubled over in laughter as the remaining party from both directions finally caught up to them. “Aww, you guys are having a cuddle pile in the dirt without us?” Grenda piped up unhappily.

“Candy adds a dash of sweetness to every cuddle pile!” Candy added.

“Or did the squirts knock you down ‘cause you’re older than the dirt you’re sitting in?” Wendy chimed in, as her and Chutzpar also came to a stop.

“Watch it, Corduroy,” Stan said, pulling his arm out from around Dipper so he could point a finger at her. “Just ‘cause I’m not your boss anymore doesn’t mean I can’t ask Soos to fire you.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow in Soos’ direction. “Would you fire me if he asked?”

“Uh…” Soos shifted uncomfortably in place. “Do I really have to answer that?”

This got a disbelieving “Wow.” out of Wendy and a delighted cackle out of Stan, one that was cut short by a grunt of pain as he shifted in place. “Ow, maybe we should get up outta all this dirt and gravel,” he muttered. “I got rocks in place I don’t wanna mention in front of a bunch of impressionable teenagers, my brother, or Soos.”

Soos offered him a hand. “Maybe we can move the cuddle pile to the Shack, then? Then Melody can join us!”

With a look of disgust, Stan took his hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Pass. Last thing any of us needs is for you two to start making kissy faces at each other.”

“Keep that in mind,” Wendy muttered with a grin.

“Soos does raise an excellent point about making our way the Shack,” Ford said. “The sooner the kids get settled in, the sooner we can exchange stories.”

He emphasized the last word with a knowing look to his brother, and Stan’s mouth spread into a wide grin as he offered his own hands to the kids. “Hey, yeah! You squirts wanna hear about the time your Grunkles tore the head off a Kraken along the coast of Texas?” he asked with a wink. “‘Cause lemme tell ya: when they say everything’s bigger down there, they mean everything!”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a unanimous “Yeah!” as they were also pulled to their feet—

“Nope! I said I was giving Mabel a proper ‘Welcome Back’ pile drive, and I’m gonna do it!”

—and Mabel was immediately brought back down to the tampered dirt path by a charging Grenda, any pain from the impact momentarily drowned in a fit of giggles as she hugged her friend. “Oh, it’s just as spine-shattering as I hoped it’d be!”

“Don’t forget Candy, for a dash of sweetness!” Candy piped up, as she flopped over the other two with a laugh. “I made that pun already, but it was so nice, I had to say it twice!”

“Agreed, it was hilarious!” Mabel agreed, arms going around both of them in a tight embrace. “Ugh, I missed you girls sooooo much! I’ve got loads to tell you since my last letter—ooh, also I’ve got a phone now!”

While Mabel attempted to fish her phone out of her pocket, Wendy cast a smirk to the adults. “Anyone wanna bet that we won’t get to the Shack until nightfall?”

Chutzpar looked down at her. “I respect a show of friendly violence, but should I intervene again?

“You know you don’t have to listen to me,” Wendy said, folding her arms. “I’m not, like, actually in charge of you guys or anything.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I don’t take any bets I know I’ll lose,” Stan said, and snapped his fingers at the girls. “Hey, come on, I know we’re all excited to be seein’ each other again.”

He pointed a finger at Grenda, which shifted between her and Candy. “But I already told you two that I need at least one night without wondering if a family of bats moved into my attic, or if you girls are tryin’ to break the sound barrier with your squeals.”

“Seconding that,” Dipper piped up quickly. “I would also like a buffer between now and the inability to sleep in my own room, please.”

The girls let out a disappointed chorus of ‘Awwwww’s as they untangled themselves and returned to their feet. “But Grunkle Staaaaan, I missed my people!” Mabel argued.

“And her people missed her!” Grenda added, squeezing her close.

“Never said you couldn’t hang out with ‘em after tonight,” Stan pointed out. “Plus there’s that party tomorrow—”

“Oh, yeah!” Grenda said excitedly. “We can catch up at the party!”

“We can catch up on stories while we tear up the dance floor!” Candy added with an excited wiggle, before she raised her fists to the air. “And remind this town who the real party animals are!”

She let her arms fall again. “Plus my parents said that I needed to come home after we said hi to you, anyway,” she explained further, then added as an afterthought: “Hi, Mabel!”

With a giggle, Mabel replied: “Hi, Candy!”

“And I got my pile drive in, so I guess I did everything I wanted to do today,” Grenda added with a shrug.

While Stan leaned close to Ford with a quiet: “I’d point out that it was more of a tackle than a pile drive, but also I don’t wanna be out here longer than we hafta be.” (earning a “Smart call.” from Ford in return), Mabel tightened her grip around the other girls. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess I can wait another day to hang out with my beeeeest friends in the whoooolllllle world~!”

Candy’s gaze moved over to Wendy and Chutzpar. “By the way, we saw that Dipper and Mabel got a Manotaur ride up here,” she said. “Is there an option to catch a Manotaur ride back to town?”

“Ooh, me too! Me too!” Grenda added. “Wendy, make him give us a ride!”

“Once again, I’m not in charge of the Manotaurs,” Wendy pointed out, with another look to Chutzpar. “It’s up to you, pal. You offering rides back to town?”

Chutzpar held out both hands for them to take. “Small girls who greet their friends with violent pile drivers are worthy of a ride,” he said, before raising an eyebrow at Wendy. “But will you be alright getting home?”

“I can always hitch a ride from someone,” Wendy assured him. “Or—”

She reached into her pocket for her phone, and glanced at the screen for a moment. “—yeah, or I can just spend the night at the Shack if I really need to.”

“Aw, what?” Grenda said unhappily from Chutzpar’s shoulder. “How come you get to spend the night and we don’t?”

“Good-bye, girls,” Stan said, and gave Wendy a pointed stare. “Tell the big guy to go.”

“I’m not—” Wendy started to say, then shrugged it off and gave Chutzpar a wave of her hand. “Go ahead.”

Chutzpar gave her a nod in return, and turned back towards the direction of the town. “Let’s make haste, small female children,” he said, and began to walk. ”I have a response from Mayor Tyler to deliver to Manly Dan about their Thursday plans.”

“We are teenagers now, you know,” Grenda pointed out with a mild huff of indignance. “Or at least I am.”

“Ooh, is the response a loooove message~?” Candy added delightedly. “Are the plans a date?”

“Oh, you know it—!”

Chutzpar’s voice echoed through the wood with amusement, the volume only matched in power by Grenda’s laughter as the trio drew further and further away from those who had stayed behind. Eventually though, even their powerful baritones could not be carried such a distance, and the forest around the group fell silent again.

Silent, until—

“So, we’re not gonna question the big man-cow thing?” Stan asked. “We’re just acting like he’s been here the entire time, then?”

Ford shrugged in response. “He was clearly a Manotaur, and one that seemed to be on good terms with Wendy and the kids,” he said. “Didn’t see any reason to question his presence.”

“He’s visited the Shack several times,” Soos chimed in as well. “Also he was staying with us in the Shack during Weirdmageddon.”

“Did he?” Stan said. “Huh, feel like I should remember that.”

“I also met him and the rest of the herd last year,” Dipper added, just as Mabel chimed in with her own: “The Manotaurs work for Wendy now, and also Manly Dan is dating Mayor Tyler!”

Wendy made a twirling motion with her finger. “What they all said, minus the ‘working for me’ thing. They’re part of my dad’s logging crew now, and even if they listen to me when I ask them to do stuff, I don’t want anything to get weird with that.”

“And the part about your dad and Mayor Tyler?” Stan asked, an eyebrow raised.

Wendy’s expression shifted for half a second, before her usual, disinterested grin took its place. “Hey, here’s something I never thought I’d hear myself say: let’s stop standing around and doing nothing, and get to the Shack so I’m not late for my shift!”

Soos raised a hand. “Uh, but Wendy, I’m your boss and it’s your day off—”

“Race you knuckleheads there~!”

Wendy took off like a shot before Soos could finish his point, taking great care to lightly plap a hand against the heads of the younger twins and deliver a loving fist to the arms of the adults as she zipped between them and ran towards the direction of the Mystery Shack.

With a laugh, the younger twins sprinted after her in a rush with cries of: “Wait for us!” and “How are you running that fast with a pig in your arms?”

The adults watched them go for a moment, before Soos turned to the Stans: “...We don’t actually have to run all the way back there, do we?”

Stan, who had been watching Wendy and the kids race ahead, pulled his attention back to Soos. “Absolutely not,” he said flatly, and pressed a hand to his back. “Especially not after the kids knocked me down like that.”

He winced as the three of them began to follow after the kids at a much slower pace. “Gonna be feeling that for at least a few days.”

“Well, at least it’s a sign that we won’t have to give Sir Isaac Newton a call,” Ford pointed out with a smile. “With the way the kids tackled you, there’s zero doubt that they’re thrilled to be back.”

Once again, Stan mirrored his smile with one of his own. “Yeah, well, if they keep on bein’ that thrilled, you’re gonna have to bust out that necromancy spell to talk to me.”

Ford’s expression tensed for a moment at his brother’s joke, but any unease passed just as quickly as it had come when the sight of the familiar old cabin peered into view ahead of them.

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #Gravity Falls #Triangulum The Fic #Dipper Pines #Mabel Pines #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #My Writing #Long Post #(There's more characters but those four are on the poster so they get tags)

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cherepizza · 2 months

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Sorry for being inactive I barely have spare time. It's been nearly two months, woah!! It still feels like march started yesterday

There's a variety of different religious beliefs in beacons' world. One of the world's largest and most widespread religion has 8 major deities who are shown with quite similar appearances. The easiest way to identify a god in their standard form is to to look at their body color. A deity may be accompanied by symbolic plants/animals and objects, especially if the image is colorless. Text also might be present. Some gods have alternative forms which can be more popular in iconography than their standard ones.

It's disrespectful to show gods from the back side of the body, except for one.

1. Goddess of knowledge, medicine (especially the part dealing with childbirth) and law. All 8 sides of her body are "front" sides with two hands and two antennae. Always depicted with light-blue skin.

2. God of creativity and passion, whose all sides are backs. Has bright red skin. In the past this god used to have darker spots all over his body, but gave them away to a mortal who ended up having too many offspring, passing the spots to all of his male descendants. Antennae are not shown (you don't draw dicks on sacred images).

3. Goddess of plants and harvest. Besides her plant-growing abilities she's also known for creating and spreading diseases. Has light-coloured skin with a yellow or ochre tint.

4. Goddess of beasts. Created all living organisms and is able to control them. Beacons are resistant to the full mind control but susceptible to her power of inflicting dread and anxiety. Associated with willpower. Her standard form is a brown-coloured beacon but more often she's shown as a spiky snake-like creature. In this form she can change size and grow so large she'd shadow the sun or become smaller than any bug to crawl under the clothes of those who she deemes unworthy of her presence and sting them. Stings are excruciatingly painful.

5. Goddess of rain, rivers and the sea. Shares ruling over the last domain with her brothers. Though her powers are inextricably tied with sustaining life, she has no direct control over living beings. Typically shown with dark blue skin.

6. God of wind. Controls wind (..who would have thought) and serves as a protector of travellers. Talkative and upbeat, he cheers them up, gives advice and tells entertaining stories, helping them continue their journeys. Has orange-coloured skin.

7. God of deep water. Hides below the surface and rarely shows himself, though in his early years used to live among mortals and taught them sailing along with his sister and brother. His long antennae can easily wrap around victim's legs and drag the unlucky one to the bottom to either kill or imprison and force to work on him. Can control underwater beasts but only to a small extent. Associated with quiet death.

8. God of change. The all-present spirit is inert and cannot change on its own. This god makes sure night would change into day, hunger would come after nourishment, and every living thing would eventually meet their death. He's quite a lonesome god and under normal circumstances rarely interacts with mortals or other entities. Has exceptional persuasion skills. Several myths support the idea of him creating the moon and stars which partly explains why he's described having white skin. The other part comes from that no mortal has ever seen his true form, so no other colour can represent his ever-changing appearance except pure white.

–––––

Important to note that for beacons relationships between siblings play a much greater role than those between parents. So instead of being paired up with a husband/wife higher gods belong to their own sibling groups which go as follows:

Goddess of knowledge – god of passion

Goddess of plants – goddess of beasts

Goddess of rain – god of wind – god of deep water

God of change (only child oh)

In older times gods were treated as separate entities connected only by blood but in recent decades there's been a shift to a more monotheistic view of world. Since gods come from the same source (force/spirit/power) it was believed that they sort of popped up in the world that already existed before them and were left to fool around and figure out what to do by themselves. They weren't a part of the spirit anymore and the only connection remaining was the ninth eye in the middle of the head that could actually see (for mortals it's basically blind, so they were believed not to be bound with the source at all). Some followers suggest that deities and, in fact, the whole world were never separated from it. When the force splitted itself into "sides", giving gods physical bodies, it manifested into other living beings as well, allowing itself to have as many perspectives of the existing world as possible. When a living thing dies, their side turns away to a new life. Gods' powers are not separate, but a spectrum, manifestations of the same thing. The number of turns is considered to be unimaginably big, but finite. It's up for debate what will happen when the force will be out of turns.

#speculative biology #spec bio

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ageingfangirl2 · 8 months

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A Reason To Come Back! Shanks (OPLA) Part 1

Reader is a mermaid who washed up close to death in Luffy's village and made a home for themselves. Shanks comes back and tries to convince y/n to join his crew. Shanks x Female Reader.

Part 2

Y/N

It had been six months since you found yourself washed up on the shores of Foosha Village, bloody and close to death after watching your family die at the hands of pirates and making a dangerous escape. At first the village was stunned that a girl washed up beaten and bloody, then it turned into shock when they saw your shimmering tail and realised mermaids were real and not myth. Luckily when on shore you grew legs so you managed to blend in.

After being nursed back to health you decided to stay in the village because everyone was so nice to you. Being a mermaid meant you had a knack for fishing so were able to provide a lot of fish to eat and sell, and if Makino needed help you helped in the tavern. This is where you meet a young boy called Luffy who dreams of being a pirate.

Luffy took an immediate shine to you, following you around and asking lots of questions about the sea. You weren't a fan of pirate questions and after a talking to from Makino he didn't mention pirates around you often. Luffy was like a little brother, he had an adorable if not energetic personality which meant you had to keep an eye on him. He loved to watch you swim in the cove near your house, gushing over your tail and how cool it was he knew a mermaid.

He told you tales of a pirate called Shanks and his crew and how they were amazing pirates. It was hard to believe a pirate crew could exist that didn't always use violence to get what they wanted. Luffy missed Shanks and promised to introduce you to him when he eventually came back.

SHANKS

'Hey captain, where's Luffy? Usually, he'd be the first to greet us,' Yasopp calls out.

I walked across the deck and to my surprise Luffy was nowhere in sight. had something happened to him? I'd have to ask Makino because this was very odd.

After ordering the crew to unload I head towards the tavern, genuinely concerned for Luffy, yes he could be a little annoying but his enthusiasm more than made up for that.

Makino smiles as I enter the empty tavern, 'ah you're back Shanks. What's wrong?'

'Have you seen Luffy? He wasn't at the dock.'

Makino stops sweeping and chuckles, 'Now that's a first. He's probably at the cove with y/n. How she puts up with him I'll never know.'

y/n, that name wasn't familiar, maybe they were new in town, 'who is she?'

Makino hums, 'washed up on the beach six months ago beaten nearly to death, but that's not all, turns out mermaids are real. Luffy is obsessed with her.'

I'd been sailing the sea for years and had heard stories and rumours about mermaids but never thought they were real. I guess I'd go find Luffy and this mermaid y/n.

'She has a past with pirates so be careful, though I'm pretty sure Luffy has her convinced your crew are good pirates.'

I nod and head back out of the tavern, curious why y/n had a past with pirates if mermaids hardly showed themselves.

The cove wasn't a long walk, and I could already hear Luffy talking away at a mile a minute, while a girl laughed, I had to stop for a second because the laugh was a little hypnotizing. The stories said it was sirens with voices to lure ships to their demise, but maybe that also applied to mermaids.

I lean against the rock wall and take in the sight in front of me. In the water was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, and I wasn't being biased because we had the same hair colour. Her facial expression was soft and there was a twinkle behind her eyes as she laughed along with Luffy. I was also a man and despite her long wet hair covering her shell-covered breasts, she had a body. Her tail was also the same shade of red as her hair but shimmered when the sun hit it in the water

'HEY SHANKS!' Luffy shouts, snapping me out of my thoughts.

'Didn't see you at the dock so I came to find you,' I direct at Luffy before turning my full attention to the girl who was watching me with curious eyes, 'and you must be y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you.'

y/n smiles, 'You're the infamous Shanks, I've heard a lot about you from this one.'

I rub my head, 'why am I afraid to ask?'

y/n laughs, and again I find myself enthralled, she had to have some kind of power, 'he has a big imagination.'

Luffy puffs out his chest, 'When I get my own ship and crew y/n is going to join my crew, aren't you y/n?'

y/n's smile falters for a split second but she quickly composed herself, 'Maybe I'm not ready to head out to sea yet Luffy. Now shouldn't you be going to help Makino?'

Luffy jumps up from where he was perched, 'See you later y/n, you coming to Shanks?'

I put my hand up, 'I'll follow after you. Go ahead Luffy.'

The boy nods and runs past me. y/n swims up to the rocks and rests her hands on the rocks before resting her chin on them and staring at me, 'first time seeing a mermaid?' she asks.

I nod and crouch down, 'yeah, bit odd and I've seen some things while travelling. Makino told me you washed up on the beach, is that why you hate pirates?'

y/n bites her lip and nods, 'a pirate crew found the cove my family were resting in. Mermaids can live on the land, and we grow legs, but we prefer the water. They skinned the scales off my parents and siblings' tails like you do to a fish, I remember hearing them screaming because to mermaids our scales are like skin so imagine you're skin being peeled off while you're still alive Shanks.'

That was a lot to digest, 'I'm sorry, that must have been hard for you.'

y/n nods and uses her hands to push herself out of the water, and like magic her tail turns into human legs, but she isn't naked like the stories said, instead she was wearing a wet dress that clung to her body in all the right places.

'I told myself I wouldn't go back into the sea until those pirates were gone, so I guess I'm stuck here. But I have Luffy and the other villagers to keep me company.'

An idea forms in my head, 'what if my crew made those pirates go away. Would you return to the sea?'

y/n tilts her head to the side as she approaches me, 'Maybe. I don't have anywhere to go though. I'd be all alone.'

'Then join my crew,' I say without a second thought.

#one piece #one piece live action #OPLA #opla shanks #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action imagines #opla imagines #one piece shanks #one piece shanks imagines #one piece shanks fanfiction #shanks #opla shankis imagines #anime imagines #anime fanfiction #anime blog #shanks x reader

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months

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Wrap Around Pt.1

Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing

Words: 2033

Summary: Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Her ship still isn’t here yet?” Irritated, Oberyn makes the servant squirm uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. Normally Oberyn was quick to please and in a jolly mood. There was none of that.

“No, your Grace. Her ship seems to be lagging.” He awkwardly informs the Prince of Dorne.

Near the archway of his chambers, Ellaria was lounging on a long, cushioned bench. She watches as the poor boy flees once given permission by Oberyn. “Calm down, my love. The ship will get here when it gets here. You yelling at squires won’t make it sail any faster.”

His brow was tense on his handsome face. “I haven’t seen my baby sister in a year. I need to see her face. It’s been far too long.”

Ellaria coles and rises, her robes flowing after her as she glides over to Oberyn. Hands smooth out Oberyn’s knotted shoulders. (y/n)’s initial departure had been hard enough on Oberyn. For days after Ellaria stayed by his side as he longed for his sister. Now that she was returning, he was once more growing impatient on her arrival.

She kisses the length of his neck, feeling his form relax under her touch. “You know how arduous traveling by sea is. The wait will be worth it once you see her.”

Closing his eyes, Oberyn sighs and allows Ellaria to lead him to a chair. Dutifully pouring him a goblet of rich Dornish red. Dark as blood but oh so sweet on the tongue.

He should have never let (y/n) leave for Essos. She claimed that she wanted to see more of the world and since she was not allowed to go to Westeros on her own (Oberyn had already lost one sister there, he wasn’t going to lose another), her brothers relented. Giving her a ship to Essos was safer than having her travel in Westeros where Lannisters and Tyrells could easily prey upon her. For so long after Elia’s death, Oberyn kept her safe in Dorne. No one would dare to take his young sister from their own home. (y/n) wanted to spread her wings though. Too headstrong to be tethered down. She was not delicate like Doran and Elia had been. There was venom in her, a will that couldn’t be broken, nor did Oberyn ever want to. He loved (y/n), faults and all of her fire.

“If she comes back with a boy, you must promise not to hurt him.” Ellaria suddenly muses while petting his dark head.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Oberyn before. (y/n) was of perfect marrying age and much like himself had a healthy carnal appetite. What if she had decided to bring someone home? Perhaps when she visited Trystane in Norvos where his mother lived their nephew might have introduced her to someone. A beautiful foreigner that peaked her interests enough for her to want to bring them home. It made Oberyn’s stomach drop.

“Then the boy must be ready to prove himself. No man is worthy of my sister if they are not prepared to fight me.”

Ellaria knew that there was more to it. Expert hands fann on his broad shoulders and begin to knead them. “Even here, feelings like that are looked down upon.” They never spoke about it. Hardly brought it up because of the sadness that followed. Incest was rife in Westeros, but never in Dorne. Have a lover, even two if you like, but it could never be a sibling. That was the one taboo everyone agreed upon. It was viewed as unnatural, even damnable. And perhaps another reason why Doran was willing to give (y/n) her own ship to travel for months at a time. He saw what Ellaria did: a brother who loved his sister too much for comfort.

Not saying anything, Oberyn gingerly grabs one of Ellaria’s hands and pulls it down so that he could kiss her smooth knuckles. “I just want to see her.”

Off in the distance they could hear the low blow of a horn. Oberyn was on his feet in seconds, a big grin plastered on his face making him look ten years younger.

“She’s here!” **

Your heart rattled the cage of your chest once you caught sight of land and the shining top of Sunspear’s palace, even the looming vegetation of the Water Gardens could vaguely be seen.

The warm Dornish breeze kissed your face, welcoming you back home. Although you had fun during your solo journey, you sorely missed Sunspear and all the people that lived there. You wondered how much your nieces had changed, if they even did at all. Arianne and Tyene had been close companions to you growing up. The three of you spent your early adolescence playing in the Water Garden and flirting with whatever poor boy got stuck in your alluring trap. You loved Oberyn dearly, but you could never have fun with the opposite sex when he was around. Entangle yourself with another woman? Sure, go for it. But if Oberyn caught a whiff of a male scent, he was right there to scare them off. Being with your nieces did a lot of good for you as you were allowed to escape Oberyn at least for a few hours.

You smile to yourself when you think of your possessive brother.

Retrieving a piece of cloth that was normally tied to your wrist, you press it under your nose. After so long it still smelled like Oberyn. Before leaving for your first stop, Lys, you had snuck into Oberynb’s room and cut a strip of fabric from one of his shirts. A token to take with you, for even though he chased all the boys away, Oberyn was your favorite person. More than Arianne and Tyene. More than your older brother Doran. He was your light. When Elia was murdered, Oberyn slept in your room every night because of your haunting nightmares. He pressed you close to his bare chest and you drowned yourself in his calming scent. Cloves, spices, and a bit of natural musk was your security blanket.

The sway of the ship brought you back.

You’d be seeing him shortly. You let go of the scrap of cloth, ignoring it as it fell to the ground. There was no need for it anymore. You were home.

“(Y/N)!!”

Even through the shout, you knew who it was. The closer you got, the more you could make out Oberyn at the dock; hands cupped around his mouth as he called out to you. Two armed guards stood sentry behind Oberyn and Ellaria. Of course they would be the first ones to greet you.

Leaning over the side, you call out “OBERYN!!”

Then, to the deckhands utter shock, you did the unthinkable. Getting up on the ledge of the ship, you dove into the sparkling water below. Their screams were drowned out once the water enveloped you. Breaching the surface, you swim over to the dock’s shore where Oberyn was running to.

“You crazy girl!” Oberyn was laughing as he helped you up and out of the water. His own trousers getting wet in the process but neither of you cared. He grabbed onto you for dear life and nearly suffocated you in his embrace. That’s when you heard the delighted screams of your nieces running into the water as well. Arianne excitedly skipped in, her dress skirts immediately getting wet. Tyene was a little more hesitant than her cousin but lifted up the hem of her dress and waded in. While Nymeria was close behind Tyene, Obara and Ellaria chose to stay on shore.

Even though saltwater stung your eyes and soaked into your clothes, you had never been happier. In the arms of your family you felt secure and loved.

Being drenched from head to toe made the way back to Sunspear’s palace a little uncomfortable, but at least you weren’t the only one. Nymeria had charged in, knocking all four of you into the water. Oberyn’s long hair was dripping as was Arianne’s. The way back, Tyene sulked over her wet attire; silently shooting daggers over at her half-sister.

Before facing your brother Doran, the reigning Prince of Dorne, you desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes. Being in that state was okay when it was in front of Oberyn, not the eldest child of Prince Egemen and Bahar Martell. Even if he was your brother, you still had to appear proper in front of the ruler of Dorne.

Departing from your welcome wagon, you were taken for your required bath. It felt like heaven to slip out of your soiled garments and into the steaming hot water that the maids had quickly supplied for you.

Sprinkling small jasmine flowers into the water made the floral scent begin to rise and fill your nostrils. As fun as your travels had been, this was your home that you had missed.

Hadiye, a hand maid who had been with you for years, goes to answer a knock at your washroom door. You could hear her quiet protest. “Prince Oberyn, your sister is almost done with her bath.”

Quite easily, Oberyn pushed past her. “That’s alright. You forget that (y/n) and I used to bathe together as children. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, I want to hear of her adventures in the vast land of Essos!”

Gawking at the prince that was now striding over to your massive tiled tub, Hadiye looks to you and Melisa who had been lathering your hair with essential oils at the time of Oberyn’s disruption. Melisa, who was lower in rank than Hadiye, takes a step away from you and bows in your brother’s presence.

He waves them off. “You two may leave. My sister and I have much to catch up on.”

From her nervous glances at you, you assure the women that it would be alright. Before you left, this had been normal. Oberyn barging in on you as you bathed so he could keep you company and talk. Still, you knew how much this fact made others uncomfortable. “Go on. Let Prince Doran know that I will be ready in a little bit.”

Obedient Hadiye bows and ushers Melisa out.

“Such fretting hens.” Oberyn clicks.

“They surely haven’t changed one bit.”

Finally the two of you were alone. Releasing a sigh as he gets down on his knees, Oberyn sits on the floor; back leisurely pressed against your tub. Of course he never looked directly at you while you bathed. That would be inappropriate.

“So tell me of the year I have missed out on.” **

He had hoped things would be different once (y/n) came home. That her and Oberyn would stop tip-toeing the line of being inappropriate with each other. Yet his retainer had just told him what Hadiye had relayed.

Prince Doran purses his lips and runs a hand over his brow. They had always been too close, even before Elia’s murder. Elia had fretted over the relationship her younger siblings had. She wanted (y/n) to be married as soon as possible, preferably to a Dornish lord so that (y/n) would not have to suffer in a foreign land. Doran knew better. If he were to marry off (y/n), Oberyn would bring upon the apocalypse. Many times he had stated that no man could take (y/n) unless they defeated him in combat. Which more than likely meant Oberyn would kill any potential suitors.

What to do about them was becoming quite a problem for Doran. No young lord wanted to risk their life in order to claim (y/n). His father had taught all he may need to know for ruling Dorne, except for this. Times like this made him miss Elia. Under her care, Oberyn and (y/n) were more docile. Oberyn kept his possessiveness at bay while (y/n) kept her encouragement to a minimum. They clung to one another furiously after Elia’s premature demise.

Even with his paramour, Ellaria, Oberyn kept a tight grip on (y/n) and vice versa. Like snakes entwined in their mating dance.

He feared for his younger siblings. Their attraction to each other would ruin them.

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that-bloody-witch · 1 month

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L'amour et la Mort

Chapter 1

The years of King Arthur’s reign had been, so far, a largely peaceful time. Granted, the first half-decade or so after Uther’s death had been wrought with strife, remnants of his cruel regime which stained his son’s hands red. The battle of Camlann, and the defeat of Morgana, had marked a distinct shift in the balance of the world. Light began to pour where darkness had festered for a lifetime, seas too treacherous to sail once again gentled, poisoned fields were found to have nutrient-rich soil; nature itself had begun to heal. Some of the more faithful scholars, ones who still followed the Old ways, believe that this change had been paid for in blood, could have only ever been paid in blood.

Followers of the Old Religion have held many beliefs throughout the ages, some less sensible than others. They preach that royal blood, truly royal, holds a certain weight against the natural order of things. One ruler’s death will plunge kingdoms into centuries of depravity, while another might pave the way for an age of enlightenment. After all, the weight of royal words, of royal actions, hold much more power in them than any other person’s. Where else should that strength come from, if not their blood? Camlann had soaked its fill of Pendragon strength, between Arthur and Morgana, and the world had flourished because of it. Even in the long, terrifying months of the king’s recovery, no attacks had been waged on Camelot’s borders, the other nations of Albion instead vying for favor with the young ruler.

The first few days after Camlann were not easy for anyone in the realm. Merlin and Arthur had arrived weeks before the army returned, on a damned dragon. Only the sight of their wounded King being carried in thinly-muscled arms had kept the castle guards from striking against the creature. Several hands had tried to pry Arthur from his manservant’s grasp, none successfully, as Merlin carried his friend to Gaius’s chambers.

“What happened,” the old man had gasped at the sight of his bloodied apprentice, seeing through the dirt and grime to the naked fear on his downturned face. He immediately motioned for the guard who had followed them to clear the workbench, knowing that the next hours would be long and uncomfortable for every party.

“He was stabbed.” The words fell from Merlin’s chapped lips like a death sentence, eyes never leaving his King’s face. A single tear dropped onto Arthur’s cheek, trailing down his cheek as if produced from his own sorrow. Gaius raked his eyes over Arthur’s body, finding that the blood was covering too fully to see where the wound lay. He pointed a bony finger to the table, now cleared, a gesture which Merlin had never needed before. Usually, after so many years of working side-by-side, his apprentice moved almost before he even knew which direction to tell him.

“Merlin, you must let go.” The words seemed to float by Merlin unnoticed, his focus on the King unwavering. “Merlin, I cannot help Arthur if you do not put him down.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, voice breaking over the syllables like waves on a rocky shore. “I’m not sure I can keep him alive if I let go.” Gaius felt a sharp intake of breath as wide, golden eyes met his. This was much worse than he had feared.

“You must,” he pleaded, “set him down, hold onto him if contact is needed, but I cannot work if I cannot see the damage.” The words, at last, seemed to convince Merlin into action. He took short, unsteady steps to the table, and laid his King down without letting go entirely. Arthur’s gloves had been removed, at some point, and Merlin’s first clenched around limp fingers like a prayer. At once, Gaius began ordering the guard to help remove his King’s armor, cutting his shirt off entirely so as to not disturb whatever fragile stasis Merlin had upheld this long. “What happened, my dear boy?”

“Camlann was worse than I imagined.” His voice was still shaky, but seemed to steady itself as he regaled the battle. Gaius took his tale in stride, nodding along in encouragement as he cleaned Arthur’s skin enough to see the wound’s extent. He listened as graciously as he was able, barely pausing as Merlin recounted laying waste to Morgana’s army, and the lady herself, with lightning. His apprentice spoke of a sea of bodies, of barely arriving in time to be of any use at all, of being too late to help Arthur when he was most needed. “They’re dead,” the words shattered over thin air as Merlin spoke them, seeming to finally run out of whatever strength he had pulled out of himself.

“This wound should have killed Arthur,” Gaius whispered, feeling every year of his life in contrast to his young King. He had birthed this boy, now a man, had held his squalling, naked body as Uther mourned his wife. The only thought which seemed to rise above the cacophony in his head was a prayer, to anyone who should listen, that his old hands would not carry Arthur into death as they had life. “Merlin, what exactly have you done to keep him breathing?”

Merlin let out a heavy, unsteady sigh, scrubbing his free hand down his face roughly. “I’m not sure, really. I called for Kilgharrah after Morgana found us in the forest. He brought us to Avalon, and Freya told me to place Arthur in the lake’s waters. It took all three of us,” he swallowed against the words, trying to push past the lump which had lodged itself in his throat at the sight of Mordred’s sword embedding itself into Arthur’s stomach. “He was just barely alive when I got there. If anything had held us for even a moment longer.” Merlin’s words trailed off, a haunted look marring his face. The gold still had not bled from his eyes, and it seemed, to the old physician, that the impossible magic his boy was performing had become second nature, much like anything else regarding Arthur’s safety. “We did what we could, but he was still unstable. Freya told me that I already had the power to keep him from passing, and then I just started keeping him.” Gaius’ eyes flicked up from where he had been examining the wound, now as clean as possible with the slow trickle of blood leaking onto the table. Merlin’s eyes were locked onto the gash across Arthurs gut, glowing impossibly brighter against the fading light filtering into the room. Gaius motioned for the guard to light the room’s plethora of candles, so that he may continue to work as dusk fell. Instead, every single sconce in the room burst into flame simultaneously, Merlin’s concentration on the King remaining unbroken. The guard flinched towards the door, nodding curtly at Gaius’s instruction to wait outside in case anything was needed of him. His eyes once again fell to the injury, widening as the candlelight threw the wound into more clarity. The skin was slowly stitching itself together, vessels and musculature repairing itself in a shocking feat of magic.

“Merlin, my boy, how are you doing this without an enchantment?”

“I don’t know. I can’t stop.” Another gulp, another shaky exhale. “Every time I think it’s better he starts fading away.” The picture in front of Gaius suddenly sharpened into a horrific reality. The wound, as Merlin had described it, was given days ago. Even the greatest sorcerer of all time, and Gaius had seriously begun to doubt that even those words were enough to encompass all of Merlin’s abilities, could not uphold this magic for long. His mind raced, coming up with contingencies and platitudes that might convince his boy to release his hold on Arthur’s life.

“Son,” he began, “you-”

“I can’t do this for much longer, can I?” His words, more sobs than syllables, cut off Gaius’s explanation. “I can feel it, magic was never supposed to best fate.”

“No, my boy, I would imagine not.” The words lingered in the still air, riding the chill to sink into their very bones with the grim truth.

“He’s not gonna make it, not just with medicine.” It wasn’t a question, yet Gaius felt the need to answer anyway.

“There is a chance, Merlin. Arthur is strong, and much has already been done.”

“Not enough.”

“It could work.”

“No,” he shivered, a brutish exhale ruffling rust-stained blonde strands. “I’ve seen better odds rob men just as strong as Arthur of their lives, I cannot risk that with him.”

“You cannot go on as you are, it is too slow, you could kill yourself in the process.” Gaius’s statement seemed to shake something loose in his apprentice, a prayer angering the gods.

“It doesn’t matter, Gaius. I am nothing without him.” He did not shout, though Gaius had expected it. His words instead came like a wave, slowly building onto themselves until they grew strong enough to sink fleets. “Camelot cannot survive if he is gone. The Once and Future King, that’s what Kilgharrah had said. Gods dammit, Gaius, that future will come to pass in my lifetime if I have to kill Death himself. He doesn’t get to die like this, not here and not now. Arthur will die at the age of eighty, warm in this castle, surrounded by heirs, and he will not leave me.” Merlin finally seemed to break at the end, raking in a harsh gasp to keep himself from devolving into senseless wails of anguish.

A moment passed, maybe an hour, in which the only sound was Merlin’s sharp inhales and shaky exhales. Gaius knew, as much as he knew his own name, that this was something he could not sway the boy on. Merlin had always been reckless in his care for the King - Gaius had often wondered if either of them would ever pull their heads out of their arses long enough to see why - and in this, Merlin was surely unmovable. His mind raced, finally landing on a solution which seemed most likely to grant both of his boys to keep their lives.

“Okay,” he began, golden eyes once again snapping to attention. “You’re right, this wound is still too risky to try and heal with science. Magic is the only solution.” He raised a hand as Merlin opened his mouth, to protest or add his own opinion. “Listen to me. Whatever it is you’ve been doing these last few days is too slow, and it’s not sustainable. You need to fix as much as you can, as fast as you can, and let me do the rest. It will be a slow process, depending on how much magic heals, but I cannot see another way.”

Merlin looked back down to his King, his friend, his Arthur, and visibly tensed when he realized the plan’s validity. He nodded, not breaking his gaze, and readjusted his grip on Arthur’s hand. His voice tore out of his chest, ancient words that he had never consciously learned filling the air like a dragon’s roar. A wind stirred in the room, sending pages of notes and vials flying into the tornado that had formed around the workbench. The light from Merlin’s eyes grew too intense for Gaius to look at, and he shielded his vision as his apprentice pleaded with Magic itself to save the man in front of them.

As instantaneously as it had been stirred into chaos, the room fell silent once again. The candles, shockingly untouched by the vicious wind, lit the mess left in magic’s wake with vivid detail. Merlin had slumped forward, unconscious, his head falling just beside Arthurs, hand still clutching the King’s. Gaius immediately moved forward to assess the damage to Arthur’s abdomen, calling for the guard to move Merlin to his cot. It was nowhere near the first time either boy had been under his care, but having them both unconscious, splayed in front of him and injured, made his chest ache in a breath-stealing way.

He could not afford to lose his focus, working with experienced hands to fix as much of the crevice in Arthur’s flesh as humanly possible. Merlin’s magic had done a lot of good, most of the dire internal problems repaired in an instant, but the blood started to trickle in steadier streams as arteries began flowing once again. Gaius flashed a look to Merlin, not liking the deathly pallor to his ward’s skin, or the apparent stillness of his chest.

“Guard! Wash your hands! I need your help.” The young knight squared his shoulders, peeling off his gloves and following orders deftly. Gaius instructed him to press and cauterize where it was needed most, all the while thinking how Merlin wouldn’t have needed instruction to aid the physician. Gaius stitched muscle and skin back together, pouring tonic after tonic down Arthur’s throat in an effort to replenish as much blood as possible. He whispered a quick prayer to the Old gods as he worked, begging with the skies for the survival of both his sons. After several dozen minutes, seeing that the King’s wounds would hold for the moment, he moved to check on Merlin’s ashen form.

“Merlin! My boy,” Gaius wept, finding that against every science he knew, his body had grown cold in mere minutes. No breath filled his lungs, no pulse beat in his chest. Gaius allowed one solitary, earth-shattering moment to mourn the boy in front of him, pressing his wrinkled lips to a glacial brow, before moving back to the King.

As Gaius worked, and weeped, the kingdom held bated breath for news on their sovereign. Kilgharrah had flown back into the forest, knowing that his master would call when he was needed, and every soul which lived under the castle’s shadow had flooded the city. Time had seemed to trickle through the citadel as molasses, peasant and noble alike holding constant vigil outside the palace walls. Hours passed, dawn enrapturing the skies in a beautiful background to one of Camelot’s darkest days, before an announcement was made.

Gaius stood on the dais where Uther had condemned thousands, looking over the tear-stained faces that matched his own, and made his proclamation.

“The King was mortally wounded in the Battle of Camlann. It is thanks, only, to his manservant, and my apprentice, Merlin, that he shall survive. He remains unconscious, but the blow dealt to his stomach would have killed any lesser man before the battle’s end. Merlin protected his King until his last breath, using the magic which the gods had given him to heal as much as he could.” Gaius paused, raking his eyes over the crowd to find familiar faces, who would all hold fond memories of his boy in their hearts. “Merlin has faithfully served the throne of Camelot since his arrival in the citadel nearly ten years ago, and has given his life to ensure the survival of the Pendragon line. King Arthur will have a long recovery in front of him, but he shall live.” Cries rang out, both in joy at the news of their King’s health and misery at the loss of Merlin, and Gaius felt his own eyes moisten at the thought of his body growing colder in the physician’s cot. He could see many faces of shock at the admittance of Merlin’s magic, though Gaius supposed that riding in on the dragon had already clued most in on the worst-kept secret in Camelot.

The long walk back to his chambers gave Gaius time to adjust to the gaping void in his chest. He knew exactly how many years he had lived, how much loss he had endured, yet never before had the old man felt old. Now, in a world without Merlin, he could feel every second of his life weighing against his back, turning his movements sharp and painful. The council would need to meet, soon, to discuss how to proceed with the nation’s rule while their King remained unconscious, but Gaius did not dwell on these thoughts for long. He exhaled as he entered his chambers, still wrecked from the aftereffects of impossible magic, and abruptly halted where he stood.

“Will he live?” The corpse had pulled a chair over to Arthur’s side, once again grasping his hand in a white-knuckled grip. Gaius felt his heart stop and start in the space of a breath, and nearly fainted at the sight. Merlin, his Merlin, was sitting up, with enough life flowing through his veins to look worried over his King’s prone form. The physician held no reservations as he raced to envelop his boy in a bone-crushing embrace.

“Merling, oh Merlin, you’ve come back,” he cried as Merlin’s arm came to wrap around him, hesitating for a brief moment of curiosity.

“What do you mean, Gaius? I was on the cot the entire time.” Slowly, the old man released his apprentice, searching his face with a haunted look. “What? Is Arthur going to be okay?”

“My boy, the King will make a full recovery, in time, but you.” Gaius paused, not sure how Merlin would take the news that he had been dead for ten hours. “Merlin, you died. That spell, whatever you did, you were dead for an entire night and morning.”

Blue eyes widened, so large they might have popped out, and Merlin let out a noise of shock. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. “You must be mistaken.”

“Your body was cold almost immediately, Merlin. It was as if you had given your life to Arthur. You haven’t had a pulse, nor a breath, in ten hours. You were dead.” Gaius could see the cogs turning behind Merlin’s brow, processing what this meant for him. The old man’s mind suddenly threw a memory to the forefront, of treating Merlin for the deadly serket sting which should have killed him. Their eyes widened simultaneously as the truth of the gods’ will revealed itself to them. “Surely, you don’t think-”

“Oh, I do think.” A thunderous expression crossed Merlin’s face, his fist clenching even tighter around Arthur’s as he glanced at the unconscious King. “When has anything about my life ever been normal? Why should my death be any different?” Gaius winced in sympathy, reaching to offer comfort with a hand on his apprentice’s shoulder. They both fell into a contemplative silence, pondering the extent to which the gods would see their prophecies fulfilled, and watched as their King slept.

Suddenly, a chuckle burst forth from the physician’s lips, causing Merlin to shoot a wounded expression his way.

“Are you laughing? I cannot die and you’re laughing in my face?”

“I’m sorry, my dear boy,” Gaius began, stifling the unbidden humor as much as possible and forcing a calm expression onto his face. “It does appear,” a smile cracked across his face, and he cleared his throat in a bid for sobriety. “I mean to say, that is, I might have just announced to the entire citadel that you nobly gave your life to save Arthur.”

A dumbfounded expression fell over Merlin’s face, before a sudden bout of laughter erupted, surprising both master and student.

“I did!” They fell into hysterics, both men clutching each other until their sides ached. Merlin supposed, at some point, the court would need to be informed of his apparent immortality, but at the moment he could not care less. Arthur was safe, Gaius was strong despite his growing years, and Camelot faced no immediate danger. Surely, the coming weeks would reveal heartaches and wounds not yet scarred, but for now, as the laughter slowly died and the only father he’d ever known moved to brew tea, he was choosing to be optimistic.

#l'amour et la mort #super nervous to post this actually #please comment your thoughts i love feedback #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #wip #current wip #work in progress #unfinished #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #uther pendragon #kilgharrah #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #ahhhhhhhh

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candycandy00 · 1 year

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The Pirate and the Mermaid - A Shigaraki x Reader Fanfic Part 1

This is the AU idea that won the poll, and I’d planned to write it after finishing some other fics but I just couldn’t stop myself. It was getting too long so I had to break it up into two parts. Part two will be posted in a few days, so check back for it. Part two will also be more smutty than part one. Any feedback at all would be greatly appreciated!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Dubcon. General rough treatment of Reader. Shigaraki is a pirate captain, Reader is a mermaid who gets caught in his net.

When you were a young mermaid, just old enough to begin exploring the waters around your home without being accompanied by your parents, you saved a human boy from drowning.

He was around your age, and he’d fallen from a cliff near the sea, his body breaking the surface of the water like a rock, knocking him unconscious. You swam for him, easily catching him before he sank too deeply, and pulled him to the craggy shore. You turned him on his side so the water would pour out of his mouth, then, not knowing what else to do for him, you waited, and watched. After a few minutes, you began to worry that he was dead. You crawled over and leaned close to his face, trying to determine whether or not he was breathing.

At that moment, his eyes snapped open, and you’ll never forget the strange red color of them. You’d never seen eyes that color on anyone before, human or merfolk. They reminded you of a bright burning sunset.

He stared at you for a moment, then suddenly began coughing, his body attempting to force the remaining water from his lungs. You took the opportunity to slip back into the sea, swimming past the rolling waves and disappearing into the depths.

It would be four years later before you saw the boy again. This time he was on a large wooden ship with black sails. The humans called this a pirate ship. He was working with several other teenage boys, scrubbing the deck, tying ropes, carrying buckets. When he came to pour some water over the side, he was close enough for you to see his face. He had two scars that hadn’t been there before, and his soft white hair was longer, touching his shoulders.

You watched him from beneath the surface of the water all day, sometimes coming up to get a better look when you were sure he couldn’t see you.

Humans had always fascinated you, with their strong legs and their loud, breathy voices. Though humans didn’t seem to know merfolk existed, merfolk were very much aware of humans and had learned much about them over the centuries. Some merfolk had even studied the corpses of humans that had been found on the ocean floor.

You were amazed that humans had no gills or fins, but even more amazed by the similarities. Human and merfolk looked almost identical down to the legs, where merfolk had fins from the knees down while humans had feet. Merfolk also had gills on either side of their torsos, right below the rib cage, and small translucent fins on their outer thighs.

Merfolk had learned to comprehend the human languages used near their seas, but they had trouble speaking it. Even when out of the water, breathing dry air, it was difficult to form words. Like most merfolk, you could say a few words, but anything more made you feel like all your oxygen was suddenly depleted.

So when you heard humans laughing or singing, you were transfixed. This had led to you floating a little too close to ships sometimes, something your parents warned you against.

On the day you saw the red-eyed boy again, you followed his ship for hours, even after the sky grew dark, just to catch glimpses of him on the deck. Eventually you had to abandon the ship, fearing that you would drift too far from home.

Over the next few years, you spotted him occasionally when his ship passed through your seas. Each time he was a bit taller, wearing clothes that were a bit sturdier, like a leather coat and tall boots, now carrying a sword at his side. He stopped doing random tasks on the ship, now spending time at the helm or deeper inside the ship where you couldn’t see him. At one point you heard someone else call him “Captain”. From what you understood, this meant he was in charge of the entire ship.

One night he came onto the deck late at night, when no one else was around, and looked out over the water. The moon was full and bright in the sky. You were watching, just under the water, daring to get a bit closer, depending on the darkness to hide you. His eyes suddenly shifted down to you, and they widened slightly. He leaned over the side, trying to get a better look, but you quickly dove deep, your heart thundering, worried that he’d seen you clearly enough to be certain of what you were.

That night was half a year ago, and now you find yourself watching his ship again as it passes through the waters surrounding your home. You’ve seen him at the helm a couple of times, but he’s been lingering on the deck much more than usual, pacing around and inspecting the work of those doing the tasks he used to perform. More than once he’s went to the side to look out over the gently rolling water, and your heart races each time. Is he looking for you?

You remain out of sight. Even if you’d love to properly meet him and interact with him, you can’t risk exposing your family and friends to humans. If you’re spotted here, the humans might search these waters carefully and find your home.

He’s at the side again, looking down, and you worry that you might be too close to the surface. You quickly swim to the side, darting under the ship to move to the other side. Just as you clear the dark shadow cast by the enormous boat, you feel rough tendrils wrap around you, like the seaweed merfolk use to tie things together, only much stronger. Isn’t this what humans call rope? Wait, isn’t this a net?

You try to swim away from it, but it’s tangled around your legs and through your hair. You struggle and pull, but that only seems to make it worse. At some point you realize you’re being pulled up, toward the surface. Toward the ship.

When you’re lifted out of the water, still tangled in the net, you find the red eyed captain standing there, staring at you. For a few moments, you both look at each other with wonder, and then the spell breaks.

“Haul her over,” he commands, then steps back to give his men room to swing the net over and drop you on the deck. You gasp at the pain of colliding with the hard wood, then try to disentangle yourself. If you can just get free of the net, you can crawl over and slip off the side of the ship.

The captain walks over, holding a large knife in one hand. You watch apprehensively as he begins cutting through the net. He’s freeing you! Could it be that he remembers being saved by you when you were both young?

After cutting most of the rope away, he gathers a long piece of it in his hands, then wraps it around your wrists. He stands up, hoisting your arms above your head so roughly that you give a little cry of pain. A couple of his men come over and secure the rope around your wrists to a tall wooden pole, effectively pulling you upright, your fins dangling a few inches from the wood.

You wriggle and jerk at the rope, trying to slip out. Your arms and shoulders are aching, and the rope is biting into the wet skin of your wrists. You look at the captain pleadingly. You almost beg him to help you, but you hold back. Speaking the human tongue is difficult and drains your oxygen. You decide to wait.

The men on the deck are staring at you with wide eyes. One of them steps a bit closer and says, “They really do exist!”

Another man turns to the captain and asks, “How did you know we’d find her here? When you accepted this job I thought you were crazy, but here she is right in front of our eyes!”

The captain’s eyes have never left you. “I thought I saw her around these parts a few months ago.”

One of the other men gives a cheer. “She’ll catch us a fortune! This is the highest paying job we’ve ever taken!”

The captain nods to the two men who had tied you to the pole. They touch the seaweed wraps around your chest and waist, and you try to shrink back away from them.

“It’s not cloth,” one of them says. “I think it’s seaweed.”

The captain is looking you in the eyes when he says, “Remove it.”

You immediately begin struggling against the ropes again. Merfolk have a tendency to be modest about certain parts of their body, only revealing them to lovers. Are they really going to strip you of your coverings, right here in front of all these men?

The two men take out knives and begin ruthlessly cutting through the seaweed wraps until they fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed. You whimper and try to clamp your legs shut in an attempt to cover yourself.

One of the men reaches a hand toward you, as if to touch you, but the captain suddenly says, in a commanding voice, “No one is to touch her! Am I understood?”

The man who had reached for you quickly withdraws his hand as several calls of, “Yes, Captain!” sound over the deck.

The captain himself walks over and stands in front of you, those red eyes roaming over your body. You blush crimson under his gaze, closing your eyes and turning your face away in shame.

The sun is burning hot in the sky, already drying you out, making you feel like you’re on fire. Merfolk could survive outside the water, but after a short time it became painful to do so. It was hard to breathe without the added oxygen from the water. Your skin and fins dried, cracked, and bled. Some brave merfolk had tested the limits generations ago. Yes, they could live, but only in misery.

You suddenly feel two warm, dry hands on your hips, sliding down your damp skin, roughly rubbing over your fins. You open your eyes and find the captain looking at the tiny fins on your thighs as he repeatedly runs his hands over them. They twitch from his touch, and he seems amazed. His hands move further down, past your knees, where they find your main fins. He strokes the scales there, sending tremors through your body. Then, all at once, he lifts your legs up by your knees and pulls them apart to stare between them.

You struggle to free your legs, but his grip is strong. You let out a strangled cry as he shifts one of your legs to be held beneath his arm so his free hand can probe your most intimate place. “She’s just like a human woman down here,” he says, his voice cold and emotionless. “I wondered how her people mate. I guess they do it just like us.”

He drops your legs, the sudden weight of them pulling on your arms painfully. Then his hands are on the underside of your arms, moving down beside your breasts, stopping at your gills. You draw in a sharp breath, causing them to flutter as they attempt to draw in water that isn’t there. His fingers slide into the folds, and you cry out again. Your gills are very sensitive, and his fingers moving into them is more painful than you imagined.

Withdrawing his hands, the captain steps back to look you up and down. One of the men beside him is looking at you as if you’re a deity. “She’s beautiful,” the man says in a reverent voice. “We should set her free.”

Still looking at you, the captain says, “She’s a monster, and she’s worth more than her weight in gold.”

The hot air is merciless on your skin, the sun’s heat unrelenting. You decide to finally speak, or at least try.

“Please,” you say in a weak, small voice, causing the men to look at you in shock. “I need… water.”

“She speaks our language?” one of the men asks, suddenly seeming afraid.

The captain calls for someone to bring him a bucket of water, then carries it over and sloshes the water over your body. The cool liquid feels so good on your dry scales, it almost overrides the soreness of your arms.

You shiver from the pleasure of it, then look at the captain. “Thank you,” you manage to force out.

He looks up at the sky, squinting at the sun, then turns to his men. “We’ll take her below deck. Get a cabin ready.”

You feel a small bit of relief to know he’s not going to leave you strung up under the blazing sun.

“Do you… remember me?” you ask in your weak voice.

The captain looks at you with those red eyes, but says nothing.

“You fell… from a cliff… when you were young…”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can see the recognition there, like the pieces all coming together in his mind. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him, but he suddenly turns his back to you and says, “I don’t remember.”

You droop in despair, realizing he’s not the kind hearted human you imagined him to be.

Some time passes, and one of the men emerges from deeper into the ship and reports that they’ve readied a cabin for you. The captain approaches and cuts the rope holding you up, then catches you in his arms. Your own arms, sore and exhausted, drop over his head, effectively leaving your wrists tied together around his neck. It’s an intimate position that makes you redden. Your bodies are pressed together, you’re completely nude, and his hands are on you to keep you from falling.

He carries you down the wooden steps leading beneath the deck, down a hall, and into a room. There’s another wooden post here and you make a whining sound as he pulls your arms up again and ties them above your head. Your arms are throbbing in pain. You look at the captain with tears in your eyes and say, “Please… it hurts.”

He turns away from you and motions two of his men in. They’re carrying tall buckets full of water. They sit them on the floor close to you, and the captain lifts your fins, one at a time, and places them in the buckets. The water reaches up to your knees, and feels so wonderful. Before you know it, he’s holding another bucket. This one he splashes over you, from your head down to your thighs.

The captain hands the bucket to one of the men and says, “Pour water over her every hour. We have to keep her healthy until we sell her.”

Your eyes meet his. “Sell?”

He averts his gaze. “We have a buyer waiting to take you.”

“What will… they do to me?”

He heads toward the door as he replies, “I don’t know. It’s not my concern.” He hesitates, then adds, “Probably nothing good.”

Then, you’re left alone in the dimly lit room.

You count the hours by the number of times someone comes to splash a bucket of water on you. Four times. Four times you feel some small measure of comfort. The men stare at you, but none dare touch you.

Just before the fifth time, the captain walks into your room. He’s holding a plate piled with seaweed, kelp, and other sea vegetables. He steps closer to you and says, “I don’t know what your people eat, but I thought fish might be in poor taste.”

You nod at him, and he uses a metal fork to feed you. After you eat around half the items on the plate, he pulls a round orange object from his coat pocket, as well as a knife. He uses the knife to cut the outer layer of the object away.

“Have you eaten one of these before?”

You shake your head.

“It’s called a citrus fruit. They don’t grow on the lands around here.” He slices off a piece of the object’s flesh and holds it up to your mouth. You look at his thin fingers holding the “fruit”. They’re dripping with the object’s juice, and it looks delicious. You open your mouth, and he places the piece of fruit inside, his fingers grazing your tongue.

An explosion of flavor bursts in your mouth. You’ve never tasted anything like this! It’s so juicy and refreshing. After swallowing it, you open your mouth again, waiting for the next piece. He stares at your open lips for a moment before cutting off another slice.

He feeds you the rest of the fruit until only one slice remains. When he places it in your mouth, you instinctively close your lips around his fingers, licking the juice off.

His eyes seem to flash with something as he pulls his hand away and looks at the thin string of your saliva connecting his fingertips to your lips. Then he puts those fingers in his own mouth and licks them clean. You’re unaccustomed to things of a sexual nature, but the act makes you feel heated somehow.

He pulls off his coat and lets it fall to the wet, sticky floor, then walks around behind you. Not being able to see him makes you nervous, so you try to twist in your bonds. This causes a jolt of agony to race up your arms, and you cry out.

“What hurts you?” you hear his voice behind you ask. “Your arms? Or the lack of water?”

It was both, but right now one was worse than the other. “My arms,” you say.

His hands touch your upper arms, gently, and begin massaging them. It hurts at first, but then your muscles begin to relax slightly as his hands firmly but comfortably rub them. He moves down, working at your shoulders, then beneath your arms. You sigh in pleasure, just glad to feel something other than pain in your arms.

He does this for a few minutes, his body so close that you can feel the fabric of his white shirt against your bare back. Then, his hands slip around to cup your breasts. You stiffen, your small gasp seeming loud in the silence of the room. He massages them as he did your arms, and though you’re embarrassed, you can’t say it feels unpleasant. Your breaths get more shallow, and you realize it’s probably been more than an hour since your last bucket of water.

One of his hands slides down your stomach and moves between your thighs. You squirm, trying to escape his touch, but you’re helpless to stop him as his fingers press into your folds and rub circles around your clit. Your whole body trembles as he keeps up the motions, his other hand still groping your breast.

“Please,” you manage to breathe out.

His voice is calm, almost cold, as he asks, “Please what?”

You can’t answer, because you don’t know. Do you want him to stop? There’s a primal pleasure building inside you, making you quiver. Is it wrong to want to feel good, when you’ve only felt pain all day?

For years, you’ve thought about this man. You’ve daydreamed about meeting him, interacting with him. And as you grew into an adult, those daydreams sometimes included being touched by him. But you never imagined, in your darkest nightmares, that he would have you strung up painfully in his ship, taking you to be sold to strangers who would most definitely do terrible things to you.

Tears form in your eyes. Your heart is so confused! You feel his fingers stroking your clit, more roughly than before, as he pinches your nipple. You gasp again, loudly this time, then a moan escapes you as you shudder through rippling pleasure.

The captain finally pulls away and steps around to stand in front of you. He holds up the hand he’d shoved between your legs, and clear sticky fluid is dripping from it.

“Looks like you get aroused the same way humans do,” he says, examining his fingers.

You blush furiously. Was this just some experiment? But then he licks his fingers again, his red eyes staring at yours.

He walks over and picks up a bucket of water, then sloshes it over you. Without another word, he leaves the room.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki

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thelureking · 1 year

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I had this idea to make a list of all the games I played in 2022, half as a recommendation list, and half because I struggle to remember when I played what. I have a really bad time ranking stuff, so I'll just list them chronologically (or, as chronologically as I can remember).

Note: Sometimes I dont have a lot to say about a game, but that doesnt mean I didn't like it or that it isn't good.

So, with that being said:

1) Our Life: Beginnings and Always

This game has put visual novels on another level entirely. How must I go on knowing that I will never be treated like royalty by any other game like this did. Our Life tells the story of your friendship and/or romance with Cove Holden, your new neighbor. This Visual Novel remembers an insane amount of stuff you choose, and it can put you in the state of mentioning something you did as a kid that you completely forgot about. I actually really liked how you can go the entire game as just friends, or choose when your character develops romantic feelings. I cannot overstate how well made this entire thing is. Can't wait to play the DLCs and for the sequel to be released.

Absolute recommend.

2) Iron Lung

If you have a computer, you can play it. It is not an option.

Claustrophobic above all, this game captures the pure dread of the unknown, building tension and atmosphere as you travel through this unknown planet's red sea. Highly recommended.

3) An Outcry

Amazing game that I don't see enough people talking about. The first game that made me actually physically ill while playing an alternative route. I don't know what hit me the most, the subject matter or the type of person I played in that route, a person I know exists and maybe I've met, a person I hope I never become. I knew what the game was specifically referencing, but I found it good that it was able to trigger that response on someone who lives in an entirely different place, with different historical events, but with enough similarities that made the feeling of dread and disgust that much real. Its message is clear and loud as it should be, and one that I think maybe now more than ever needs to be heard. I cannot recommend this game enough.

4) Stillwater

Now this is a Visual Novel that I really liked and would have loved for it to be longer, but I love it as it is. It left me wanting more about the world and its characters, and I think that's a good thing. It feels unfair that this is the one I typed the least about, knowing how much I liked it. It's really worth the read/play.

5) The Caribbean Sail

Have you ever wanted to be a sailor or a pirate? Have you ever wanted to grab a ship, sail into unknown destinations, encounter supernatural phenomenons and watch as your fellow crew members die of disentry five seconds after leaving your first port? Because if so, I have the perfect game for you. It's inspired by the Oregon Trail game, and that's literally what the gameplay is like, except on the sea. Which was enough of a selling point for me.

6) Carrion

My child, it has every disease. Loved the concept when I saw the trailer, forgot I can actually buy games now, and then proceeded to do that. Being able to live my fantasies of being a flesh creature that destroys and eats everything in its path was a delight. The creature is my child and I love it very much.

We need more games that let you play as the monster, I'm serious.

7) The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante

This game is both my beloved and the thorn on my side. Who would have thought that in a game like this you would proceed to suffer through life? I said to myself as if I hadn't known what I was getting into. You'll experience loss, you'll struggle to make a name for yourself, your family will fall apart, and you may never kiss your best friend Tommas who gave you a totally platonic ring to commemorate your friendship because the game doesn't want you to.

Or you'll have a different experience than me on my first playthrough.

You follow the titular Sir Brante from the moment of his birth to his last breath, exploring the world he lives in, full of injustices that at times made me go "I do not care about the lots, give me a fucking gun so I can take you to the fucking Twins". There are many branches regarding life paths, the fate of your family and that of the entire city you live in. But don't worry about it now, keep looking at those toy soldiers at the store as a little kid, I'm sure nothing will happen in the future.

8) Princess Maker 2 Refine

And apparently I didn't get enough of walking a kid through life.

Who looks at a game about raising a little girl by managing her monthly schedule and balancing her stats, health and money and says "yes, this is the game I'll play to destress"?

I do that. Don't ask why.

I have only reached two endings, in one my beautiful daughter became the royal painter, her art held as the most beautiful and inspiring in the entire world. In another, my girl made a name for herself by exploring the lands surrounding the kingdom, so fast on her feet nobody could even scratch her; she married a dragon prince and became the teacher of her own fighting school.

And even with all of that, her goddess mother was not happy.

So yes, this is the "divorced dad who got custody" experience.

9) Planescape: Torment

What can change the nature of a man? That is a question posed by one Ravel Puzzlewell, night hag of the Gray Wastes. It is one of the many questions that this game asks, intertwined by the many philosophies it presents. Planescape Torment does not stick to one question, it asks many, and it lets you answer.

It is a beautifully written game, one of the best I have ever read. There is one moment that I do not wish to spoil, but it still sticks to my head months after I experienced it. As a writer, I found myself fascinated by how a certain event was told, all because of the way it was presented.

It feels like an injustice to not talk in length about Planescape: Torment, but I seriously don't want to spoil anyone who hasn't played it yet. A blind experience is fully worth it. All you need to know is that this is the game that made me post for the first time here, two dumb memes for myself and one short analysis that sometimes reminds me that yes, people can interact with it. Shameless link to it here

10) Growing my Grandpa!

If I had to describe this game without saying too much, I would say it's "heartwarming horror". Two words that don't usually go together, but that they perfectly fit here. The story is, like the title says, about growing your grandpa, more like helping a girl grow her grandpa, but still. Strangely sweet and unnerving, I was tense the entire time, and even when I had to replay it to get the second ending (this was entirely my fault, since I could have gotten it way easier) that tension never left.

11) FAITH: The Unholy Trinity

I don't remember how I found out about this game, but I remember waiting patiently for it to get a steam release so I could buy it and play its three chapters all together. The day finally came, and all that waiting was worth it.

The gameplay is simple, yet the developers found a way to have me both crying in fear and frothing by the mouth out of anger every time I saw the game over screen (affectionately). In terms of difficulty, I would say the game is easy until it isn't, looking at you Chapter 2 and 3 Final Bosses, you bastards. Then again, I saw people say they struggled in places I didn't, so I would say it depends on the player.

The story is so interesting and it's still marinating in my brain please I need people to talk about how the prologue of chapter 2 and the one note in chapter 3 relate please. The cutscenes are also so well done, and I had to restrain myself from using one as a second picture because I didn't want to spoil any of them.

All in all, a must play, fully recommend it.

And remember:

GARY LOVES YOU

12) Inmortal Mantis

This is a tricky one. On one hand, the game starts off by basically spelling out every action you have to do, and suddenly it goes full on "fuck around and find out" mode. On the other, the game implements some interesting mechanics that I would love to see developed on a longer game, but I am not going to put the length against it while knowing how hard it is to make a game. And maybe being short plays in its favor.

13) Who's Lila?

This game is my King in Yellow. I cannot stop thinking about it. I finished it with all endings and achievements in a day, and it wont leave me alone. It is always there, forever crawling at the back of my head, stretching itself over my brain and weaving my thoughts into a spiral as easily as a spider weaves its thread. It made itself a home in my mind and I won't kick it out any time soon. I played it because the concept of controlling a character's face in place of a dialogue wheel was interesting, and the story and the way it's presented (hand in hand with the gameplay) lured me deeper and deeper. I cannot even describe it without giving it the praise it deserves. It takes full advantage of its medium. Playing this game is an experience that I can't recommend enough, and I'm surprised it hasn't gotten the recognition it deserves.

14) Someone stole MY LUNCH!

This visual novel is pure fun. The humor is so good I found myself reading the entire thing out loud while wheezing. I actually found out recently that it's made by the same people that made Stillwater, which, looking at it now I should have known. It's good and I'm not still over not seeing that one joke coming; well played.

15) MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF-

... INSIDE A BAG OF MILK is a short visual novel about a girl going to the grocery to buy milk, and the challenge this seemingly small action can be. It is your responsibility to help her through this.

The steam page description perfectly summarizes it: "This is an artistic manipulation with word and form, only then - a game."

#already reblogged with three more games!#game recommendations #our life beginnings & always #iron lung #an outcry #stillwater visual novel #the caribbean sail game #carrion game #the life and suffering of sir brante #princess maker 2 #planescape torment #growing my grandpa #faith the unholy trinity #inmortal mantis #who's lila #whos lila #someone stole my lunch visual novel #milk inside a bag of milk inside a bag of milk #lilium post

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queer-media-tourney · 3 months

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Here are the match ups for round 1:

Rent vs Orphan Black

Heartstopper vs Orange is the New Black

Carol (2015) vs Bugsnax

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern vs Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Fienburg

Red, White and Royal Blue vs This is how you lose the time war by Amar el-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Our Flag means Death vs Always human by Ari North

The last of us two vs On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden

Heartbreak High vs Shameless

Undertale vs The Handmaiden

Young Royals vs Revolutionary Girl Utena

Sens8 vs Carry on by Rainbow Rowell

Bee and puppycat vs The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Yuri on Ice vs Ranma ½

Q-force vs Feel Good

Torchwood vs The interview with a Vampire (2022)

Homestuck vs Good Omens

Some like it hot vs Killing Eve

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off vs Bound (1996)

It's a sin vs Magnus Chase by Rick Riordan

Doctor Who vs Portrait of a young lady on fire

Steven Universe vs Saltburn

Xena Warrior Princess vs Cyberpunk 2077

Welcome to Nightvale vs Schitt's creek

Night in the woods vs A league Of their own

Lisa Frankenstein vs The boys in the band (1970)

Black Sails vs Owl House

Hannibal vs The Traitor Baru Cormorant

Bottoms vs The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir

The picture of Dorian Grey vs Adventure time

The Sandman (comic) vs Supernatural

Maurice (1987) vs Hazbin Hotel

Nimona vs Love Simon

Epithet Erased vs What we do in the shadows

Buffy the Vampire Slayer vs The Other Two

One Day at a time (2017) vs Falsettos

She-ra and the princesses of power vs Dykes to Watch Out for

Celluloid Closet vs Harley Quinn

But I'm a cheerleader vs Vida

Angels In America vs Glee

Hooky by Míriam Bonastre Tur vs They both die in the end by Adam Silvera

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offtorivendell · 4 months

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The Weaver's Song

Disclaimer: well I thought I had time to edit this properly and tidy it up, but joke's on me, apparently the entirety of HOFAS has leaked in Portuguese over night. That'll teach me (haha, never) to leave something in my drafts for months. So this may or may not be correct, and YOU might know that, but I'm not going to read the whole thing until I have the original version.

If someone has already posted this theory, I'm sorry!

Spoilers: this contains information from ACOTAR, TOG and CC series books 1 and 2. Please do not discuss spoilers in the comments until after HOFAS has officially been published, or in the reblogs without warning (and ideally a read more option)!

This may be fanciful, but I think I may know what The Weaver was singing about in ACOMAF... it was a metaphor for Prythian history and Void travel.

“There were two sisters, they went playing, To see their father’s ships come sailing … And when they came unto the sea-brim The elder did push the younger in.”

Theia's two daughters, as @silverlinedeyes has posted before, she thinks the second daughter brought Truth-Teller back to Prythian through a rift - though was there a third, unknown sibling, as @wingedblooms and I have theorised?

Playing - playing music? Music as the universal magic/language? Urd’s music?

Whether or not they're also Fionn's daughters, if literal, the ships could be people travelling through the Void/Rift to Midgard… the Feyre, the Nesta, the Elain come to mind, except maybe the Selene, the Eos and the Helios?

The Haldren Sea sounds like it could have a rift/portal in it (similar imagery to the Court of Nightmares/Hewn City). Port/portal?

Did Helena push her younger sister into the rift, to make her return through the Void and save Prythian from the Asteri, per @silverlinedeyes?

If this was then case then Helena knowingly sacrificed herself.

“Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam, ’Til her corpse came to the miller’s dam.”

Did she travel through multiple worlds until she reached Prythian, similar to Aelin as the red star? Or was this after returning to Prythian and living her life she then travelled again across the murky realm?

Miller's dam - dam could be their mother? The Mother? Silba?

A dam is also a body of water. The Cauldron?

Miller is one of the oldest human professions - milling grains for bread.

Miller is also a type of moth - moth wings at the HOW library, with their Cauldron/bowl-type statues at the entrance?

What if the Void/Cauldron is the Miller, and Chaos/Cauldron's water is the Dam?

“But what did he do with her breastbone? He made him a viol to play on. What’d he do with her fingers so small? He made pegs to his viol withall.”

What if the Void/Cauldron is the earth, Chaos/Cauldron's water is the dam, and the Miller is the hypothetical third sibling?

How do the underground waterways and/or the pool of Starlight in the Spring Court fit in?

The viol is an instrument; is the language of the universe a song? This would support my idea that Singing is a language of the gods, and Sight/messages from the gods could be a form of Singing.

Breastbone, spells and bonds are threads, viol strings? Pegs tighten/tune the strings. Witchy and sorcery spell vibes, but also hello PUPPET VIBES. Who is/will the Cauldron using as a puppet?

“And what did he do with her nose-ridge? Unto his viol he made a bridge. What did he do with her veins so blue? He made strings to his viol thereto.”

Nose - smells, Azriel can smell the Elucien bond… because it's discordant (theory on the way)? Amren could smell Feysand’s bond, how?

Bridge - I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. Paint that when we get home. - ACOWAR, chapter 69. Truth-Teller connecting with the Starsword.

"A violin bridge is a maple piece that sits atop the violin and lifts the strings above the fingerboard in a way that allows you to play both single notes and double stops. It transmits the string vibrations to the soundbox (body of the violin)." It's a conduit. Could Carranam be relevant here?

Blue - Azriel's siphons, the veins in Elain's eyes in the tent scene when she Looked for the Suriel. Can she see the threads?

Viols have six strings - three brothers and three sisters?

“What did he do with her eyes so bright? On his viol he set at first light. What did he do with her tongue so rough? ’Twas the new till and it spoke enough.”

Eyes bright - like Elain's when she's in pain? Pain is a link to the divine, do her eyes go bright when she's using her magic?

Eyes at first light - Sight/Singing at dawn? Eos?

First light - firstlight?

To set at something, to go after it… with an instrument playing him through the Void? Someone is after the firstlight and will go after it. The Asteri and Bryce. Mystics? Elain?

Till - as in the soil/gardening? More likely a boat's till/tiller; did Theia's second daughter’s tongue become the rudder that allowed “the Miller” to steer his way through the water/Void/space between… Lightsingers? Mystics? And there were three ships named after Feyre, Nesta and Elain Archeron.

Mor speaks the truth, Elain speaks what she Sees.

“Then bespake the treble string, ‘O yonder is my father the king.’”

“Then bespake the second string, ‘O yonder sits my mother the queen.’”

“Then bespake the strings all three, ‘Yonder is my sister that drowned me.’”

The father/king and mother/queen have been separated, and are in different locations.

Different worlds?

Fionn/the father/king is in Prythian.

Theia/the mother/queen "sits" somewhere else… a hell/Hel realm? Sits on a throne?

The sister/Helena is in Midgard.

I really think that the Weaver was singing to nobody/Feyre about Prythian's ancient history, along with the crossover - and potential instructions on how to navigate the Void - all the way back in ACOMAF! When she just happened to be collecting a six pointed star sapphire ring (six strings?) for Rhys?

Will each sister become a magical, Singing tiller for the bat boys' wings (as rudders), guiding them through the Void? It gives a whole new depth of meaning to Papa Archeron's fleet going down in a storm!

This also fits for Vassien, with Lucien being the magical tiller and Vassa as the firebird. And even possibly More and Emerie, if her wings get healed, or she gets her own Pegasus! Could it parallel the way they had to fly through holes in the Wall back in the OT, before Hybern destroyed it with the Cauldron (which just happens to contain Void)?

Will they be the light in the dark?

SJM you wicked bloody genius, this cannot be a coincidence. 🙏🏻

PLEASE BE VERY CAREFUL NOT TO SPOIL HOFAS FOR OTHERS WITH DISCUSSIONS ABOUT THE LEAKS!

#hosab spoilers #crescent city spoilers #maasverse #acotar cc tog crossover theory #hosab #crescent city theory #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #acotar #the weaver #the weaver's song #maasverse theory #pre hofas #acomaf

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panda-writes-kpop · 4 months

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Oh Captain, My Captain ~ Pirate!Winter

a/n: I recently watched the one piece live action while suffering from red-haired winter brain rot... thus this fic was created. @foolish-sparrow, my pirate queen and favorite mother figure, this one's for you. ❤️ also last fic of 2023, so I hope the new year treats you all well!

tw: possible ooc aespa girlies (I have never written for them before), violence (guns, swords, and death, oh my!), alcohol mentions, one suggestive mention

word count ~ 2.9k

summary: as a first mate to the captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, your job is simple. 1.) keep everyone in line, 2.) keep the ship running above water, and most importantly, 3.) remind your captain and lover that she needs to take a break every once in a while (after you plunder some enemy pirates, of course!)

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Come here, my love." Winter's voice rings out over the hustle and bustle of her crew as you slip past a few of them to head up the stairs, towards the helm of the ship.

Every great captain needed a reliable first mate. Someone they could trust when shit went sideways - as it often did as a pirate sailing the seas.

As luck would have it, you were the first mate to Winter's adventures as a captain, but your relationship quickly grew beyond what was conventional for a captain and a crew mate.

It's not like anyone's opinions mattered - if someone was out of line, a few days strung to the front of the ship set them straight. Winter was less harsh on her crew then most pirates, and had a semi-stable moral compass, but she couldn't let everything slide.

"I'm here, Minjeong, do you need something?" You ask as she backs away from the wheel to fish something out of her pocket.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd take that as a form of disrespect," She teases before tossing you a small necklace, "You should respect your captain, especially if they're pickpocketing necklaces off of dead rival pirates."

"I'm sorry, Captain Winter," You catch the necklace before mockingly bowing, "should I kiss your feet next time as a form of respect?"

"I'd prefer you started with my mouth-"

You scoff before admiring the necklace.

The rubies hanging along the necklace shine right in comparison to the gold chain it hangs on. There's a bit of rust on the necklace - from old money, you assume - but you know Winter means well. She often doesn't have much left over to spend on the two of you - she likes to reward her crew for a job well done when she's not fixing cannonball-sized holes in her ship.

You don't hesitate to put it on before answering her.

"Darling, if you want to kiss me, you don't have to grandstand. I'd do it for you anyways."

You lean in to kiss her, as she does the same, before a cannonball hits the left side of the ship. Winter grabs the nearest bolted-down object before catching you in her arms.

"You good?" She asks as you nod in response. "Way to ruin a moment."

"You'll really earn a kiss after this one, Captain." You look back to see a massive ship coming from the distance as your crew scrambles to be on the offensive.

Winter quickly goes to her feet before unsheathing her cutlass from her side.

"I've got this side covered. Go find Karina, Giselle, and Ningning. They're on strict orders to fire whatever they can find until we get close enough to invade their ship."

You're quick to your feet as well as you scan the crew members below you for the three girls you're looking for.

"I'm on it, Captain," You smile before backing away and blowing her a kiss, "but don't kick their asses too hard, alright?"

"If everything goes to plan, they'll regret setting sights on our ship." Winter swings her sword in the air as fellow pirates rally to her side and prepare for the incoming battle.

You scurry away on your mission with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face.

It's never a dull day on the seas with you, is it, Minjeong?

You catch Ningning on your way below deck, and you toss her your extra knife - she'll need it, given that hers find their way into the enemy's neck.

Below deck, Giselle is giving strict instructions to a few new recruits on how to fire the cannons. She spots you and waves as your eyes scan around the room.

"We're guns ablazing down here. How are we upstairs?" Giselle asks before tossing a cannonball into a nearby cannon.

"Everyone's ready, but I'm on the captain's orders to find Karina. Where's our head marksman?"

"Check the gunroom. I think she snuck off with a girl - another marksman, perhaps?"

"Damn you, Karina." You grumble before placing a hand on Giselle's back. "We're still up for drinks?"

"As long as I kick your ass at poker afterwards, then yes."

"You got lucky," You scowl for a moment as Giselle lights a match to set off the cannon, "but keep things running smoothly down here. I have a lovesick puppy to chase."

Giselle softly laughs as you plug your ears and move past the cannons. A few cannons fire off before you make your way to the gunroom. You try to open the door, but it's locked.

"Karina!" You loudly pound on the door before you hear two women squeal.

"Don't come in!" Karina yells.

"Wasn't planning on it, but we need you upstairs in the crow's nest. We're under attack from another ship." You announce before pounding on the door. "You can answer to me, or answer to your Captain. Either way-"

The door quickly unlocks and reveals a disheveled Karina along with another girl behind her in a similar state.

"Don't tell Winter about this, please-"

"Get moving and I won't say another word." You step out of her way, and Karina scurries to above deck after grabbing her gun. "You too, c'mon!"

The other girl makes a noise resembling a cross between a shriek and a squeal before hurrying out of the room. You quickly close the door, but not before grabbing your favorite toy - a musket you lovingly called Killjoy.

With your specialists ready for battle, it was time to head back upstairs and see how much closer the other ship had gotten.

"Nice of you to join us, Karina," Winter jests as you join her at the side of the ship, "get up in that crow's nest and start shooting!"

"Got it." She nods before giving you a pleading look.

You wink at Karina, who deeply sighs before heading off.

"Which girl was she caught with this time?" Winter pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance as you eye the rapidly approaching sea vessel.

"One of her marksmen. A new recruit, if I'm not mistaken." You ready Killjoy in your arms as the two ships are nearly about to collide.

Although Winter's ship has taken some damage, the other ship is about two more cannon blasts from going under. It makes sense that they'd try to get close, but they didn't know the talent of her crew.

With a skilled marksman, a masterful assassin, a crafty navigator who likes to play with fire, and the best swordsman to sail the coast, you had little to fear with your crew. You could hold your own, as could the rest of the crew, but you did like to let them show off - it gave you a clear reputation in the seas.

The two ships collide, causing you to grab the railing along with Winter.

"Charge!" She yells as a few members of your crew, including Ningning, swing across to jump aboard the other ship.

Karina quickly shoots down most of the pirates who swing towards your ship. In your arms, Killjoy is a deadly weapon, so you're able to down the last two pirates on your left.

Before you can check your other side, Winter slices through a pirate that was headed your direction.

"Check both sides next time." She teases as you aim behind her shoulder and shoot down another enemy pirate.

"You watch the front, I've got your back." You say with a smile as Winter charges in front of you to take down another set of pirates who have just swung in.

You aim your musket at a pirate who swings in towards you, but you miss the shot due to a large explosion on the enemy ship that kicks up smoke and debris.

"Giselle, can you aim the grenades a little farther next time?" You scold the girl who appears next to you before she hands you a nearby trident.

"Accounting for distance and smoke, throw this ten degrees portside." Giselle, albeit a little too willing for your liking, takes Killjoy from your hands as you follow her instructions.

"I can't see anything-"

"-just trust me!" She yells as you throw the trident.

Sure enough, a pirate comes charging your way out of the smoke, but your trident pierces through his heart and lungs before he can reach you.

"How did you do that?" You're in shock as you grab the trident from the dead pirate.

"I'm the navigator. I'm supposed to know where everything is," Giselle aims your musket at the sky and shoots a pirate that neither of you could see, "but I did guess that they would charge you head on instead of moving to the side."

"Remind me to fish you out of the captain's cabin more often, mapmaker. You've got some serious talent." You compliment Giselle as the smoke finally clears and you can see who is coming your way.

"I like to make myself useful." She shrugs before easily downing another pirate that tries and fails to swing across to your boat. "I'll return her back to you in one piece."

"You better, or so help me God-" You grumble as Giselle heads to the quarterdeck to fend off more enemy pirates.

On the other ship, Ningning stabs two pirates at once before they both fall to the ground. Another tries to charge her, but a casual knife throw backwards ends their pursuit before it has a chance to start.

You've made enough of a dent in their crew that most fights are two versus one, and your trident stabs two pirates like a kabob before hitting the mainmast.

You grab a sword from a long-deceased pirate as you jump into the fray. You parry an oncoming blow before pushing the other pirate back. Another tries to swing at your feet, but you're quick to jump out of the way and land a blow to their side.

Winter jumps in and kicks one of the pirates to the ground before stabbing her cutlass through their neck. The pirate you injured tries to move away from you while holding their side, but you rush forward and send them overboard with one push.

A gentle hand grabs yours as a sword comes right in front of your eyes. With two swords in their hands and a flamboyant hat on their head, you're certain that the foe in front of you is the enemy Captain.

Winter pulls you into one of her arms before pointing her cutlass directly at the other captain's chest.

"Surrender now, and we may let you live." She raises an eyebrow at the other captain, who takes a defensive posture.

"My crew and I will rip you to shreds."

"You might want to take a look around, then." Winter lets go of you before gesturing around her with her free hand.

The other captain looks around, panicked, as they notice that most of their crew is dead, overboard, or badly hurt.

Ningning waves her hand from the other ship, along with her remaining frontline fighters.

Karina jumps down from the last rung leading up to the crow's nest as she joins the rest of her marksman on the main deck.

Giselle stands to your left with a single grenade that she menacingly tosses up and down every few seconds.

You and Winter stand side-by-side with both of your swords pointed towards the nervous captain who immediately drops their swords.

"I surrender! Drop your weapons!" The captain barks as the rest of their crew raises their hands and drops their weapons.

With guns and swords drawn, you corral their crew into the corner as Ningning steers the enemy ship close enough that everyone can cross safely to plunder their treasures.

You cross your arms as two of your pirates lower the planks on both ships.

"You first, my dear Captain." You bow to Winter, who scoffs before sheathing her cutlass and offering you her hand.

"The captain and her first mate go together, you know." She smirks as you set aside your sword and take her hand. "Let's hope we find enough treasure to fix the ship."

The ship you plundered was full of treasures, including a fully stocked wine cellar that you and Giselle called dibs on. You found a pearl bracelet that you could probably pawn off for a pretty penny, but it'd look much better on your dearest than a stack of coins.

You're able to slip it into your pocket before anyone notices, and you help the crew members take some ammunition and supplies for yourself as Ningning counts up all of the gold, rubies, and other assorted treasures.

"How much are we looking at?" You ask before sitting next to her.

"More than enough to fix the ship, if that's what you're asking. We might even be able to afford the top-shelf rum." She jokes as you fish a small leather bag from your pocket.

You fill it full of gold coins before tossing it at Ningning.

"What is this for?"

"I know Winter hasn't been able to pay you for a while, so consider our debt settled. You're free to leave when you make it to the next island, if you want." You tell Ningning, who stares at the bag of money for a moment before emptying it back out.

"Months ago, I would've taken this money and ran off. I don't tend to like pirate crews, as a bounty hunter, but your crew is different."

"Good different or bad different?" You ask.

"Depends on the day." She shrugs as you lightly push her aside.

"C'mon, we're not that bad-"

"I've watched you and Giselle drink a barrel of wine by yourselves-"

"That was one time, and Karina still owes us money for that." You scoff at the thought as Ningning laughs to herself.

"I think I belong here, at least for now." She softly says after a moment of silence.

"Well, we're always glad to have you aboard." You rub her shoulders before standing up. "We've done enough talking. Let's get this treasure to our ship so we can make it to land before nightfall, which means Giselle and I can get wasted at the first land bar we see."

You roll your shoulders back after taking your second round of shots.

"Ningning's right, the top shelf rum really is the good shit!" Giselle yells over the live band that's playing to entertain the bar guests tonight.

"Who cares if it's top shelf or from the bottom of the barrel, if it'll get me drunk, it's good enough for me." You yell back as Giselle grabs her goblet of wine.

"I'll cheers to that." She says as your goblets smack together before you take a drink of wine.

"Excuse me," A tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around as a smaller member of your crew lightly taps your shoulder, "the captain's looking for you."

"Heading in for an early night?" Giselle teases before you casually flip her off.

"You know how Winter gets, it's all business all the time with her. I'll see if I can get her to relax for a bit." You stand up off of your barstool before nodding to the crew member. "Lead the way."

"If you're not back before the next song ends, I'm finishing your wine!" Giselle yells over the crowd as you roll your eyes.

"You better not!" You loudly respond before you weave through the crowd while watching the crew member in front of you.

Before you know it, you've made it to the back of the bar. Winter lightly traces the rim of her goblet with her pointer finger before her eyes meet yours.

"Thank you, Hana." Winter dismisses the girl with a wave as you slide right next to her in the private booth.

"How's the ship faring?"

"The contractor won't be able to fix all of the damages in a day, so we're stuck on land today and tomorrow." She wistfully says before taking a sip of wine. "Are you keeping an eye on everyone?"

"Love, you need to let everyone relax." You softly say while gently grabbing her arm. "They worked their asses off today, so they deserve a night off."

"The ship-"

"-will be fine. We paid a couple of locals good money to keep thieves off of it. Now, can the captain go off duty so I can speak to my lover?" You pleadingly ask as Winter sighs and removes her captain's hat.

Her beautiful red hair falls down past her shoulder as she hangs her hat on a nearby coat hook.

"Better?" She asks as you admire her hair.

"Better." You say before carefully brushing her hair with your hand. "You should put your hair down more often. It makes you look absolutely divine."

Her hand quickly grabs yours as you're halfway through combing her hair. Careful eyes meet yours as she tilts her head at you.

"Do you really mean that?" Vulnerability slips into her words as you watch her cringe at how child-like she sounds.

"I do," You smile before placing her hand in yours, "but I think I owe my captain a very special reward."

"You do, my first mate." Winter leans in to kiss you, and without the threat of pirate ships, certain death, or nosy crew members, you passionately kiss her back.

I'd spend everyday fighting off enemy pirates if I knew my day would end like this with you.

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