#You can take the Mer out of Mermay

[muppenthings]

Look I put some effort in his design so I'm gonna draw it again.

They tried to cut the net around his fin while he was sleeping. Unlucky for both of them it's extremely sore so he jolted awake, resulting in the biologist getting flung on top of him. His flight or freeze responses are currently duking it out. For the biologists' sake, I hope freeze wins. xD

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

35 / 2.1k / shark merman Price and remora mermaid reader for mermay :)

...

Price isn’t stupid. He knows you’ve been following him since the early morning as he makes the rounds through his favorite reef. You’re stealthing poorly—just poorly enough that he knows you’re there, but you’re still small enough to dart into the reef every time he tries to get a good look at you.

He's been ignoring you and hoping you’ll take the hint to buzz off before he makes you buzz off.

You think you’re getting the hang of sneaking up on him when you turn a corner and lose him. And then he’s sneaking up on you.

You peek around the bright lumps of coral, wondering where he’s gone, when something blots out the sunlight above. You look up to see him—the long expanse of muscle and bulk on top and the smooth shark’s tail below—as he peers down at you.

You stiffen, pressing yourself to the sandy sea floor.

He scans you with his dark eyes to determine just what kind of creature has been following him. Not a threat, decides. Even as a mer. You’re too small. Too soft. You have no teeth to speak of. How laughable. And a tiny little thing, at that.

You straighten up, watching him circle you. You’d been looking for an opportunity just like this. That’s why you were tailing him. But now that his shrewd gaze is finally on you, you feel exposed.

He takes his time inspecting you. Then he swims a wide arc around you once more and lowers his clawed as if to touch you. You force yourself to stay still, your tail curled under you on the sand.

“You’ve been following me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

Price hooks one of his claws under your chin and pulls your head lightly upwards. You slowly rise as he tilts your chin up until you're suspended in the water in front of him.

"You should be scared of me,” he says.

You settle your own hands on his wrist in contentment. You look less like a meal being evaluated and more like a kitten being scratched under the chin. "Would you like me to be scared?"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. He knows exactly what this is. You're a remora mer, which means you instinctively seek out and bond with bigger creatures. Even if that creature is an unfriendly shark mer. Surely you must know how dangerous it is to be within his reach?

"You're very big. You must be king of this reef,” you say.

He pauses as the praise washes over him. He knows how intimidating he is, and you should realize you're nothing but small, soft and fragile. But obviously your instincts for fawning and flattery are finely honed.

He can see the way your little self seems to be drawn to him. A remora mer, indeed. He's seen others like you, but they've always avoided him. He could just as easily kill you as he could accept your company.

There is something pitifully adorable about you. The way you tilt your head and expose your throat unwittingly is endearing. He knows it’s because your instincts are leading you to bond with him for the safety he provides. You're too willing.

"Do you lack the common sense to fear an apex predator?" he asks, voice low and amused.

"Yes," you respond obediently.

He can see the way your little body is pressing up to his hand, desperate to get closer. He moves his arm, gently guiding you closer to him. "Good," he rumbles softly before using two claws to stroke down the curve of your neck. "Very good. You're too small to survive my teeth, you know."

"Of course. Much too small. Your teeth are so big and sharp."

"And you're soft and weak. Soft as a piece of kelp, I bet." He gives the tip of your tail a flick, and his eyes glitter as you bob and shake out your tail fin at the touch. Fussy little creature. "You're not very good at what you're supposed to do, little mer."

You open up your eyes. "I'm not?"

"Following me for hours without even trying to ingratiate yourself to me," he growls. "You're supposed to busy yourself with my needs. Not..." He trails off as you tilt up into his touch, almost nuzzling his hand. He gives your forehead a light flick with his claw to make you pay attention. "Acting like some kind of pet."

You quickly smooth yourself down. "Of course. I know that." You dart closer, putting your small hands on his inner arm, his shoulder, his chest, inspecting him. Your fingers glide over him, brushing and scratching and plucking away bits of sea debris and dry skin. Grooming him. "I just thought you might want me to be scared of you first."

Oh. He’s enjoying this far more than he thought he would. For something so soft, you’re quite bold.

He presses on your hip to turn you slightly as you work, idly inspecting you in return. "Maybe later. Let’s see if you’re worth the effort first." He rests his chin on his other hand to watch you fuss over him. It's been a long time since he had any kind of attention on him. You dart around behind him and busy yourself with his hair next.

He leans into your touch when you start to untangle his hair. "You seem to enjoy this.”

“I do.”

“Good for you,” he drawls. "Are you good for anything else?"

"I'm good for lots of things." You move from his hair down to his tail, trying not to stare.

"Oh?" He reaches up and idly drags the back of his knuckles down your spine and over the fin there. He smirks as your fin flattens with the touch. "Like what?"

"Anything you can think of."

"Anything?" He gives a low rumble in his throat at your words. "Don't go promising favors you can't fulfill, little remora."

"Okay," you chime.

He grabs ahold of your tail fins. "And don't agree with every single thing I say, either. That makes you far too easy to manipulate."

"Yes, sir!"

He rolls his eyes. You really are a pushover. It's like you want him to be cruel to you. He lets go of your tail but twirls his fingers in the tip of your tailfins. "Is it your instincts that are making you so deferential? Or are you just a coward?"

You pretend to think about this for a moment. Then you respond, pleasantly, "Which do you prefer?"

"Mm, so you do have a brain."

"Me? No, surely that can't be. Not a thought in my head, sir. Promise."

He eyes you like a disobedient puppy. You're putting on this fairly convincing act, being a mindless, servile little thing, and it's confusing his instincts to know you're doing a fair bit of manipulation yourself to win his protection.

"Might prefer you a bit more brainless, actually," he says. He nudges the underside of your chin with his knuckle this time instead of his claw, noting how you drop what you were doing to follow the gesture as he guides you out in front of him again. "You're willing to do anything I ask, then? No questions?"

"Yes, sir.” You rest your much smaller body against his forearm again. “Anything.”

He looks down at how you submit willingly to his hand, taking in the sight of your small body pressed up against it. He feels something primal coil in his gut at the display. You let yourself fall under his control so easily. "What if I told you to open your mouth like a goldfish?" He brings his thumb up to your lip. "Would you?"

You open your mouth.

Interesting. He taps your lower lip with the tip of his thumb. "Wide," he murmurs. "Open up wide for me."

You open wider.

"Now bite."

You bite down around the tip of his thumb.

His lips twitch up into a smile at the feeling of you nibbling at him, the little scrape of your teeth. "Good. Harder."

You reposition your grip and chomp down in earnest this time. He grunts. Your teeth are smaller than his, but they're still sharp.

"There you go. Not bad for such a small mouth." He pulls it away, half-expecting you to start hollowing your cheeks on his thumb if he dawdles too long. "Have you ever had to deal with bigger fish?"

"Of course," you chirp. Like it's no big deal.

Price snorts. It's hard to imagine something like you doing anything but darting behind the nearest rock at the first sign of danger. “How many have you killed?"

"None."

"Right, I'm sure you ask them nicely to leave you alone," he says. "And do they listen?”

"Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

"And when they don't, what do you do? Do you fight back? Do you give up?"

"Well..." You wring your hands briefly. "You're going to handle it now, right? So what does it matter?"

"It matters to me." For some reason, the thought of you trying to fight back against a larger fish makes him restless. "You still need to know how to defend yourself."

You frown. "You're not going to do it for me?"

He scoffs, but you're starting to make him feel something close to concern for you. He doesn't know why the thought of you being defenseless irks him so. "Are you really that helpless? Are you really so soft that you just want me to fight all your battles for you?"

"I mean, you're a shark."

He huffs irritably at that, his annoyance with you outweighed by his annoyance with himself for feeling concerned over you. "Do you think I'm going to do everything for you just because I'm bigger and stronger?"

You smile at him, pleased.

Ah. He's the fool suddenly. He grabs you around the waist with just one of his big hands and brings you close, his voice lowering in warning. "Stop smiling, little fish."

"Okay," you chime.

"I told you to stop sounding so bloody agreeable. You make me want to bite you." He lifts you up in front of him to get a clearer look at your face. Your eyes are too wide, your smile is too sweet, your body is too flimsy. It's all infuriating to him. He’s been roaming the ocean a long time and he's grown comfortably hard and cold. You’re not changing that. "You have no self-preservation instincts at all, do you? You're just going to get yourself killed one day."

You settle into his hand comfortably. "Maybe so. Can I get you anything else, boss?"

You're hopeless, he decides. With how sweet and docile you are, he feels something clawing at the inside of his chest the longer he holds you.

Instead of answering you, he fits you against his chest, into the crook of his arm. There. Better. He can keep you closer this way without having to look at your silly doe eyes.

“Not now,” he says finally. “Maybe later.”

You lean into the position, tucking into the side of his chest like you're making yourself at home. "Okay, boss."

He can’t decide if he likes you calling him that or not. He can feel the way you nestle against him, settling in comfortably and making no effort to resist. You really are too easy to control. Just a little pull and you're molded against his side. He feels you start to smooth down some of his chest scales without even thinking. Grooming him. Nice and clean. Little busybody.

He's not used to being pampered, but feeling the tension start to bleed from his muscles under your touch… maybe it’s not so bad. He glances down at you, wondering how you're able to look so contented tucked up against him. His chest rumbles as you scratch near his throat. He lets his muscles relax under your hand.

You're an annoying little thing--too innocent, too naive, too sweet, and he conveniently forgets how capable you are of convincing him of that to win him over--but it's been too damn long since he's allowed himself to be comforted.

Maybe it would be alright to let you stay with him for a little while.

...

more Price / more mer au / masterlist tag

[starboundpix]

day three ✧ beachcombing

inspired by the mermay prompt list @/muzzlemouths made!

"Come here," hisses the mer, midnight blue tail thrashing, tossing up a splash of seawater that never makes it anywhere close to you.

You don't spare Moon a glance, eyes focused on the sand and seaweed beneath your feet as you search for hidden treasures. "No, thank you, today is a stay dry day for me," you tell him, crouching down as something glints under the early morning sunlight. Lifting up a tangle of seaweed, you pick up a piece of light yellow sea glass, edges rounded out by the beating of waves and sand over time. As you hold it up to the light to admire how the sun makes it seem to glow from within, you say, "You don't have to stay and watch me, y'know? I'm just looking for pretty shells and glass. Besides, isn't it past your bedtime? Go to sleep, old man."

There's another splash, louder than the waves, and the accompanying snarled, "Brat," tugs your lips into a smile.

The next hour or so passes relatively peacefully as you continue across the beach, finding sea glass and intact shells, gently adding them to the growing collection forming in your bag. You can feel Moon's gaze on you all the while, red eyes squinting against the sun but still observing you from his location further in the ocean.

When the sun starts to get unbearably hot, you decide that you've done enough beachcombing for the day and move toward the end of the beach where the sand meets the rockier part of shore and the cliffs looming above provide some shade. You settle on the rocks, cooling your feet in the ocean, and pull out your water bottle.

As you drink, a splash of water signifies the emergence of Moon. He pulls himself out of the water enough for his upper body to rest on the rocks, propping his head up on his hands. He flicks his tail, sprinkling droplets of water onto your legs.

"Hey!" you protest, but there's no real heat in your voice.

Moon snickers and does it again. "Slowpoke."

Rolling your eyes, you start to dig through your bag to pull out the things you had collected from the beach in a mini show-and-tell that you always do, starting with the yellow sea glass you found first. "I like this one a lot," you tell Moon, placing it onto his palm, "because it glows when you put it up to the sun. It's also a very nice shade of yellow."

"Like Sunny," he says as he holds the sea glass up to the sky between two clawed fingers, squinting when it catches the light.

You squirm. "Well, yes, like Sun, I suppose." You hadn't thought about it when you first found the glass, but its particular shade matches that of a certain yellow mer's tail.

"Anyway," you say, quickly placing the next item—this one a small clamshell—onto Moon's hand. You explain what you like about it and why you decided to keep it, and he studies both you and the shell. He's a patient listener as you ramble about your findings for the day. By the time you reach the last item in your collection, his hands are full of your little shells and glass and pretty rocks. He cradles them carefully, the webbing between his fingers helping to make sure he does not drop a single one of your newfound treasures.

"This last one is another piece of sea glass, but look at how round it is!" You hold it up so Moon can see, rolling the near-perfect sphere between your fingers. "I don't think I've ever found such a nicely rounded one before. And look at its color, it's such a nice shade of blue. These dark blue ones aren't as common as the light blue ones."

Moon looks at the sea glass, takes in the deep blue color, and a wide grin stretches across his face. He tilts his head to the side, red eyes fixated on your face, and says, "You like dark blue, hm?" His tail lifts out of the water, sunlight showing the iridescent sheen on his scales, midnight blue fins flicking a bit more water on your lap before settling back into the ocean.

You stare. Your mouth opens, then shuts. Your face is hot, cheeks burning, but surely that is from the heat, surely.

It takes a few more seconds for your brain to properly function again and you pull your arm back toward yourself, stuffing the sea glass back into your bag. "I'll have you know that blue is my favorite color. I've always liked blue things and– don't let any of this get to your head!"

He laughs, a sound that warms you from the inside out. Moon carefully tilts his hands, spreading your trinkets onto the empty space beside you. "Stay," he demands, then pushes backward off the rocks in a beautiful arch and disappears into the ocean.

You're left speechless again, only able to stare at where the mer had just been.

Eventually, you start to pick up your little treasures and return them to your bag. Knowing that Moon probably would not tell you to stay if he would be gone for too long, you drink some more of your water and pull out a snack you had prepared for your beach activities today.

Soon enough, the blue mer reappears, pulling himself back onto the rocks with ease.

"Welcome back," you say. "Do you want to share why you disappeared after– after being so rude to me like this?"

Moon snickers. "Not rude. But I share this." He brings one of his hands up toward you, waiting for you to open your hand before he places whatever he was holding onto your palm. His claws scrape the slightest bit over your skin as he finally pulls back, sending a tingle up your arm.

Your eyes widen as you take in the shell that rests in your hand. “Moon, this is such a large shell!” It nearly covers your entire hand. The surface of it is rather rough, a mix of greys and browns with hints of green. Seven indents curve close to the outer edge of the shell.

You look up from the shell at the mer who gave it to you. “I’ve never seen something like this before! Thanks, Moon.”

The discontent on Moon’s face surprises you.

“No thanks, yet. Look at this.” He flips the shell over, so the curved inside is revealed to you.

“Oh,” you whisper. Although the inside of the shell is dark, deep blues shimmer under the light of the sun. Layers of lighter purples and silver thread through the ever changing blues. The colors are lovely and deep, reminding you of Moon himself. “It’s just like your tail. It’s gorgeous, I love these colors. Thank you for showing me this.” You look at the mer who has been intently studying your face the entire time. Stretching out your hand, you offer the shell back to him.

Moon shakes his head, an expression on his face that you can’t quite place, yet it makes you give him a sweet smile. His hand curls over your own, closing your fingers around the shell. “Keep. It’s yours.”

Your smile grows. “Really? Thank you, Moon! It’s my favorite shell now. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Good.”

A moment passes where his gaze holds your own.

Then a wave crashes into the rocks and water drenches your legs and shorts, startling you with the coldness of it.

You scramble to your feet, hand clenched around the gift from Moon. “I can’t believe it,” you whine, “Today was supposed to be a stay dry day.”

“Come swim,” Moon suggests, with a grin of sharp teeth.

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your bag, carefully adding your newest shell to your collection. “Nice try, Moon. I should head home to put this new beautiful shell I got on display. And you’re probably tired, old man.”

“Not old, brat!”

With a laugh, you hurry away from the edge of the rocks to avoid the incoming splash from Moon. “I’ll see you soon!” you shout, throwing a wave over your shoulder as you leave the mer.

Moon watches you go until you disappear, before diving under the waves. He can’t wait to see the look on Sun's face when he hears about you accepting Moon's shell.

note: the shell Moon gave Reader is actually a blackfoot paua shell! they are sooo gorgeous, i definitely recommend looking them up c:

mermay 2024 masterlist

[selineram3421]

*whispering chant* Mermay, mermay, mermay!

Other Worldly

Part 4

Part 3

Alastor X Shy Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ selectively mute reader, italics= thoughts, cannibalism-Rosie and Alastor ⚠

They were still quiet.

Why were they still quiet?

Alastor was confused.

He gave them the option to speak normally, they could talk all they wanted after singing to him. So why wouldn't they?

One thing he forgot to take into account was that the mer was a quiet one, and only spoke out of necessity. Sure, they had spoken to Charlie. Giving the Princess and the others quite the surprise, but they hadn't spoken to him.

It's been a month.

Why not speak to me? I'm a wonderful conversationalist! We could talk for hours! He thought with an annoyed smile.

At the moment he was up in his radio tower, finishing up a broadcast and putting on some music. Muttering about how the siren must be too intimidated or too shy to speak to him.

What he didn't notice was his shadow leaving his side.

.

You paced back and forth in front of the Radio Demon's hotel door.

Can I go in? Am I allowed to? You kept asking yourself. I mean, it was the other half of the room that I'm allowed to use but I don't know if I can go in through the first half. You sighed. I should have just asked before coming here.

There was an odd rattling chuckle behind you and then you felt something pull you down.

"Whoa!", you yelped and looked down to find Alastor's shadow grinning. "What are you-!"

Everything went black as you were pulled into the darkness.

You closed your eyes out of instinct and held your breath, scared that something bad might happen. There was the sinking feeling in your stomach as you felt the shadow drag you somewhere before everything just stopped.

Then you heard the wind rustle the leaves, feeling it brush across your cheeks. Peeking an eye open, you saw that you were where you wanted to be.

The fireflies were out and blinking their lights, a few landing on the tall grass nearby the wooden dock that went out a few feet in the water. You heard the shadow make another noise and turned around to find them behind you.

"Thank you.", you smiled at them and started to take off your shoes.

The shadow tilted its head at you. confused until you started to take off your pants.

It hissed and turned away.

"Sorry! Sorry, forgot you were there.", you apologized but continued to take off the bottom half of your clothes. "Last time I fell in water, my pants ripped and those were my favorite.", you explained. "Maybe I should just wear long skirts or something."

With the bottom half taken care of, you left your shirt on and jumped into the water, laughing as you made a big splash. The feeling of your legs turning into a fin felt comfortable, you just hated when you had to get your legs back. Lifting your tail fin up, you started to push yourself closer to the middle of the water.

Then you noticed the shadow in the water, moving like a snake to get to your side.

"What are you doing?", you asked but just let the shadow swim around you in the water.

Closing your eyes, you decided just to stay put and float. An activity that you haven't done in a long while since dying.

A minute to relax couldn't hurt.

.

Alastor noticed his shadow was missing after it didn't appear when he tried to call for it.

How odd.. Where is that rascal? He thought and got up to search for it.

Feeling the static from his shadow, he found that it lead to his hotel room. It's not odd but usually the shadow stuck near him and followed orders. Something had its attention.

As quietly as he could, the deer demon opened the door. A quick glance, nothing was out of the ordinary, so he walked in and closed the door behind himself. Following the static, he found his shadow went deep into the bayou.

Let's see what you've got now. He thought before making his way through the brush.

The Radio Demon made a list of ideas of what his shadow could be doing. Messing around with one of the crocodiles, hunting one of the little creatures, or something entirely different that he hasn't seen it do already.

That's when he found the dock, spotting his shadow with a sleeping mer.

"Well this explains it.", he crossed his arms. "I suppose I don't really need your help, though it would make it easier if I did have it."

All his shadow did was make a rumbling pur.

"Yes, yes. You're comfortable but don't make this a habit.", he waved it off and turned to face away from the water. "I'll leave them in your care.", he said before leaving.

As he made his way over to Cannibal Town, he thought of getting something for his little mer.

Perhaps I can make them a little safe haven to get them more comfortable... Yes, that should work.

The bell of the emporium door rang as he stepped through and greeted his friend.

"Rosie! How lovely it is to see you!", he said with a genuine smile.

"Alastor! Where have you been? Honestly, after hearing about that little fish, I thought you'd give me a clue on what happened next.", the black eyed woman walked over and linked arms with the man in red, guiding him over to her office.

"I do apologize but I have good news!", he said as they both entered the office.

It was a familiar sight for him, the pink-ish wallpaper and the plush cushions on the couches. A few plate platters with snacks on the coffee table, tea, and eating utensils. Quite the relaxing room.

"Well don't keep me in suspense.", Rosie released his arm and took off her hat, setting it aside before sitting on one of the couches. "Would you like a snack? I've got some cut up thigh meat."

"Sounds lovely, don't mind if I do.", he sat on the couch across from her. "Now, for what you've been asking."

"Go on.", she said, getting the plate of thigh meat on the coffee table.

"I finally got the little mer to make a deal with me but the only problem is that I don't own their soul."

"And why not? You'd never make a deal unless you got something worthwhile out of it.", Rosie asked.

"Ha! I've got all that I wanted at the moment.", he grinned. "I've got half of their powers and get to listen to them sing.", his smile widened. "Now all I have to do is make them more comfortable until they give their soul to me willingly."

"Alastor, I hope you're not doing anything to hurt the poor thing.", Rosie placed a fork on the table and took her own to stab into the thigh meat. "Quiet one like that should be taken care of."

"Of course not!", he said to ease his friend's worries. "Which leads me to what I wanted to ask."

Alastor picks up the fork on the table and stabs it through a big slice.

"Do you have anything that would catch a siren's eye?"

*lying in bed, sick* Mermay, Mermay, Mermay!

~Seline, the person.

Part 5

Taglist@

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@+ in the comments +

ML I Alastor🎙️ | OW🦀

[naffeclipse]

I’ve been being eaten away at by devil eyes brain rot for a while now and even though it’s not may anymore

What if devil eyes eclipse was like, a mer creature of some sort?

And what would he be?

Anon, I'm looking directly into your eyes and shaking your hand. It is always MerMay in our hearts!

Devil Eyes Eclipse would be a tiger shark mer! He is large with long fins and a long tail. He has a light-yellow underbelly with currant red skin and striking dark stripes across his entire body. His teeth are terrifyingly distinct with terribly sharp, pronounced serrations. He can locate prey (or mer Y/N) with electroreceptors which allows him to detect electric fields, including the weak electrical impulses generated by his prey. Oh, and did I mention he's a solitary, nocturnal hunter?

Since I'm already here, I'll toss in Devil Eyes Sun and Moon mers as well!

Moon is a blue shark mer. He prefers cool waters and is generally lethargic, but he can move very quickly. He has long fins and a long tail just like his brother Eclipse but is slightly smaller. His skin is midnight blue with small spots of baby blue while his underside is white. He's a cold-blooded mer and has a unique sense of smell which he uses to avoid other mers and keep him and Sun safe while they wait for Eclipse. He's also memorized Mer Y/N's sense and is still deciding whether he likes how pretty you smell. (He grows anxious whenever he smells your blood, blood on Eclipse, or both at once.)

Sun is a shortfin mako shark. He's the same size as Moon but slightly smaller than Eclipse with long fins (despite taking after a shortfin) and a long tail. He possesses a brilliant yellow color on top and a white underside. He's very agile and swift which makes him an incredibly fast swimmer, and he can leap to extreme heights out of the water. He maintains a body temperature that is warmer than the surrounding waters which he has used on the occasion to keep mer Y/N warm in the cold sea. He doesn't do well sitting tight in one spot and will often venture out to scout and scan the area for dangers or watch for Eclipse coming back to them.

[mamawasatesttube]

alright it's time! without further ado i present to you, the premise of the timkon and clois mermay fic i probably won't write.

in a world where mers are known to exist but are extremely rare - hunted to near-extinction in the past, perhaps, and mostly very reclusive - cadmus labs manage to get a tissue sample from a mer sighted in the sea nearby, although he evades capture and is never observed in the area again. it's enough for them to make a few attempts at cloning - the first twelve are unsuccessful, but the thirteenth... the thirteenth grows beautifully.

tim drake is an intern working directly under lois lane at the daily planet. he's only recently started his job, but he's great at it and he's thriving, and he really likes lois. her husband is nice, too, even if he privately thinks the man kind of lacks personality - he's just not as much of a go-getter as lois. his columns are great reads, though. tim just thinks lois's are better.

as usual, clark kent has a secret. a sea-cret, in this case - he came from the ocean. he was a little baby mer, tacky with the blood of his dead parents, who washed up ashore by the lighthouse the kent family has kept for ages. of course they took him in and raised him as their own, as best they could. he disappeared to sea again for a while when he met lori lemaris. though their romance didn't pan out in the end, they parted as friends, and she gave him a gift: a magic spell to let him transform into a human while on land, to have legs, but to always return to his true form in the water.

lois lane, of course, knows her husband's secret. lois lane would do anything to protect her husband and his secret. she nearly lost him once, a few years ago, when he tried to go for a swim to meet his old friend lori but was nearly caught by hunters. he escaped, but was injured; his tail still bears the scar. she still has the occasional nightmare about finding him on the docks, bleeding, mourning.

the thirteenth experiment - the cloned mer - escapes.

he doesn't know where to go - he doesn't have anywhere else to go - but he's never been in the open ocean before, with no tanks or barriers or nets to hold him back, and he revels in it. he's free! he has so much space to swim, he can leap from the water and twirl in the air! there are so many stars in the night sky, and the sun on the rocks is so warm and nice, and there are so many new kinds of fish he's never eaten...

...but mers are social creatures, and he's lonely. so he starts sneaking back towards the shore of the city he escaped from. he knows it's dangerous, but he just wants to see people. he's never met another mer. he hides near the docks, he swims by the beaches, he explores the marinas. he observes. he sneaks a little closer and closer day by day, growing braver with every venture that doesn't get him caught.

tim drake is eating a leisurely lunch by the waterside one day when he notices a creature in the water, staring at him.

"uuhhhh," he says. "hi?"

the creature ducks back into the water with barely a ripple and vanishes. but he's back, a minute or two later, and staring at tim's lunch. "...what's that?" he asks.

"this?" tim looks down. "this is some sliced mango. do you want some?"

he tosses a piece into the water. the thirteenth experiment takes a tentative bite. tim witnesses a being experience true bliss for the first time in its life, in real time. the next thing he knows, he's promised to come back tomorrow with more land fruits for the mer to try - and he's promised not to tell anyone. and there's a little thought in the back of his mind telling him that he really needs to look into any facilities in the area that might have the capacity to house a secret captive mer.

clark kent hears rumors that some people are claiming to have seen a young mer in the area recently. of course he has to investigate. of course he finds the thirteenth clone, swimming around the mouth of the river and playing in the currents. of course he looks into his face - his own face, years younger - and knows, deep in his bones, what has happened. of course he calls him family. gives him a name. offers him his home, as well, but kon-el declines; he's too in love with the ocean to want to abandon it to hide on land just yet.

clark is a master of keeping secrets. never from lois, but from the rest of the world? always. he tells lois about the boy in the water, about the facility that created him, about the scientists who kept him from the sea. lois swears that she'll stand by him no matter what, and that they'll do whatever they can to make sure this kid is safe.

what follows is a series of more and more ridiculous scenarios as tim and lois both attempt to keep the mer secret from each other, unaware that the other knows about kon because they both believe they can't tell anyone about kon for kon's own safety. kon, unaware that tim and kal-el's wife know each other either, is just having the time of his life swimming around and stealing bits and pieces of tim's lunch.

of course, the peace can't last. cadmus hears the rumors, too, and they want their prize back. early one morning, tim and lois see reports of a flotilla of strange, private fishing boats with unusual equipment and no markings, and they both know what that means.

kon is being hunted.

tim scrambles to get to their usual meeting spot, to tell kon to get away, to hide, but kon never comes. hours pass. the sun sinks below the horizon; the moon glimmers on the water. sick with worry, tim finally has to retreat. they must have found him already, he thinks. he has to find a way to get him back. he has some leads, about facilities that could actually hold a mer, and about those boats. he'll follow up on them. he will find kon.

(what tim doesn't know is that clark moves fast. clark knows all about being hunted. kon is safe, luxuriating in a bath bomb in clark and lois's apartment. he's got clark's laptop on a plank across the tub, and he's watching wendy the werewolf stalker with rapt attention. clark has gotten him some sushi. he's having a great time.)

lois, however, isn't home. lois followed one of those suspicious boats back to its dock, and lois is going to get some answers.

what follows: tim and lois both break into cadmus marine research labs and proceed to do a spiderman pointing meme at each other over a computer full of records about the mer-cloning experiments.

what follows: lois is so proud of tim. he's breaking and entering and getting to the truth without her lead at all! he's doing so good! good job tim!

what follows: lois puts tim in her purse and brings him home with her like a little dog.

clark, upon seeing tim with lois, is initially like ?!?!!?! why did you bring him here when you know kon is here?!?!? but then kon sticks his head out of the bathroom and goes "tim!!!!!" and clark is like. wait. you... the human friend you mentioned is tim???? and kon is like. you know him???? my mango dealer????

and then the falling action. lois spearheads cadmus getting shut down, and kon gets to splash around without fear. he gets clark to come splash around with him too. and he kisses tim :)

[strangerxperv]

Mermay Stranger Things

Mermaid Stranger Boys x Human Reader

Warnings: Smut, breeding, genderfluid Eddie, kidnapping is briefly mentioned, Eddie is soft dark, Billy is a warning, rough sex, biting until wounded, two cocks, pregnancy kink, knotting, cursing, and not safe for teen. +18 or I'll kick you out.

Eddie Munson

Eddie would be a Moray Eel mermaid

His hair is definitely pulled into a low bun at the nape of his neck using fishing pole line.

Eddie likes to collect things from humans and keeps them in his "underwater" cavern.

Since he's an eel type merman I head cannon him to be very territorial of his home.

His tail is mostly inky black that transitions into slate grey towards his torso. His skin is tan but it transitions into slate grey at his elbows. His nails are sharp like talons and inky black. Eddie's gills are on the side of his neck and because of that he has some black scales. Eddie's mouth is most fearsome behind his charming grin, full of sharp teeth (made for killing just like his hands).

Moray eels are also nocturnal so he's not awake during the day.

Which is good because he saved you after you fell out of a cruise ship at night. He was the only one who heard you fall and was able to swiftly save you.

After saving you and getting a good look at you Eddie decides to keep you. He does the hard work of taking you to his home.

Speaking of his home: it's mostly submerged.

It's pretty similar to Beutopia in Adventure Time. There is a house that is partially submerged and completely furnished. The basement is completely flooded. the living room is flood upto just half of the couches. Meaning he can sit with you on the couches and even fuck you comfortably on them.

Don't worry about being cold in the water because some Moray Eels prefer warm water. If you do end up cold you can always go to the bedroom. The bed is on a high frame that keeps the mattress dry.

Eddie loves his home and knows you will too.

He loves it even more knowing that you'll have to rely on him for just about everything. Hungry? He'll go hunt something for you.

Wanna cum? Well thats amazing cause he wants you to cum too and he wants you to have his babies, his clutch.

Moray eel mermen/maids have multiple partners but youre his only mate that Eddie will take.

Eddie is also genderfluid as most of his type of mer people are because they have a tendency to change sex/ gender.

MATING BALL!! (I here by name this canon for eel merfolks)

His insticts call for him to wrap around your waist to keep your pelvises connected. It's like Eddie is all around you withering just as much as you're.

Eddie can breed you as both a male and a female due to his special cock. He first stuffs his slimy firm eggs into your whomb and despite the amount of times he makes you cum, it will hurt. But he makes up for it by fucking you until you see stars again. He takes another orgasm fro you and begins to fertilize your eggs. His spend fills you to the brim and slips out onto the mostly dry bed.

Billy Hargrove

Billy is a Great White Shark Merman

He's massive as most great white shark mermen are but Billy is even more massive/ muscular. Let's just say he's about seven and a half feet tall.

He's a brawler too

He also got massive sharp teeth that are not only used to rip into prey but to immobilize his mate.

Thats right! Great White mermen bite while mating!

Billy's teeth will be imbedded into your shoulder to keep your from moving too much. It's unavoidable for you to come away from this coppulation bleeding.

Seriously, do not move too much and especially dont struggle or try to get away from him. It will set off his predator insticts and Billy will only bite down harder.

The severity of the bite will depend on you being pliant and letting Billy fuck you as much as he wants.

Speaking of fucking

Billy has two dicks and one will knot to ensure a successful breeding. He'll fuck you will the top dick and lubricate your hole with his cum. Then his second dick will fuck you until he knots you to keep you tied to him.

During the process Billy will edge you closer to orgasm but you wont be allowed to until he's rooted, knotted. You'll have one major orgasm that will make you pass out because it's so overwhelming (both the sex and cuming).

Sex with Billy is rough because he is a rough guy, we know this.

Rarely is Billy outwardly soft or gentle but those moments can be found just after sex.

It's normal for the male great white merfolk to clean and patch up the wound from his teeth. Billy will first leave the softest of kisses to your mark a kiss so soft you barely feel it. These gentle kisses go from your lips to your many bite marks the entire duration being stuck together. Once free Billy will do his best to clean you up with minimal pain on your end.

Another moment of sweetness can be found when you're pregnant with his pup. He's so careful with you. Usually his touch leaves dark bruises (not because he hits you) because he is so much bigger than you and stronger. It's difficult to remember that you're not a great white.

He gets reminded of this fact once you get pregnant, you are human, and this pregnancy will be more draining on you. His pup is massive like him (smaller than the usual pup since theyre half human but bigger than an average human fetus). So you are bed bound through about 80% of the pregnancy.

Billy is so worried about you and his unborn child that he flat out refuses to have sex with you. That doesnt mean you wont get to cum! He actually spoils you with orgasms. You get to cum as much as you want whenever you want however you want. But he will not fuck you because Billy can't guarantee that his instincts will let him be soft.

Billy will jack off to your body during or after pleasing you and he'll aim for your round stomach.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

once again, congratulations on 1k, I'm so happy for you homie :)

I have a request: X 🧜🏻‍♂️🥵 and I'll leave the 4th option up to you

Listen, if this is your attempt at getting me to write porn involving Steve’s fishy parts ... you've succeeded. Happy mermay! 🧜‍♂️

Full of surprises

Rated: E

Words: 999

Tags: Mer!Steve Harrington; established relationship; explicit sexual content; explicit descriptions of mermaid anatomy

Notes: Shoutout to that one nonny who asked me if Eddie was gonna fuck the merussy in Just add water. (I opened that ask in a work meeting. I've never been so proud of my poker face.) Well, he never got to in the original story. We're fixing this now.

To say that Eddie's utterly obsessed with his boyfriend would be an understatement. 

What's not to love? Steve is sweet, handsome, has a delightfully snarky sense of humor, and he drives Eddie absolutely fucking insane. 

What he loves most of all, Eddie thinks, while Steve presses sun-warmed lips to his wet skin, chasing the droplets on his throat and chest with kisses, is that Steve’s just as head over heels for him. 

Even though head over tail fin might be more correct just now. 

It started out as just another summer night by the lake. Only the two of them, surrounded by a myriad of twinkling candles (that's another thing about Steve, he's a hopeless sap). As often, their romantic date soon escalated into mock-bickering and a heated wrestling-slash-makeout session. At least they remembered to take off their clothes before they went tumbling into the water. Steve has lost one too many pairs of pants to their spontaneous forays into the lake. 

Steve's legs last just long enough to launch himself at Eddie in a flying tackle, and then they both go down in a flurry of water and flailing limbs and glistening scales. 

They end up in the shallow water, hidden by the onset of darkness and the low-hanging branches of the trees.

They've never done this before, Eddie realizes as he slips his tongue past Steve's lips, drawing the first moans from them. Not like this. Sure, he has taken his sweet time mapping Steve's body with his lips and hands, has familiarized himself with the feel of golden skin and shiny scales, the lines where the two melt into each other. Has stroked his fingers from the base of those magnificent fins all the way to their edges and reveled in the sighs and shudders it gets him. 

But they’ve never done it in the water before. Steve has always made sure to get them back to land, where they could wait until his legs returned - naked and still glistening from the water, and beautifully eager to part under Eddie’s touch. 

Today, Steve seems to have no such plans, if the way he wraps his fins around Eddie’s legs to draw him closer is anything to go by. Or the way his hands stray deeper.

“W-wait,” Eddie manages to say, “Don't you wanna-” 

Steve does not wanna, evidently, because he lets out a growl, cupping Eddie’s naked ass in a deliciously firm hold and slotting their bodies together in the water. A while ago, when he first learned about Steve’s fishy little secret, Eddie would’ve probably freaked out now - unsure what to do with the foreign shape of the tail slipping between his naked thighs, where to put his hands. 

Now though, he traces the shape of Steve’s fins with his thumbs and licks his way back into that warm, wet mouth, drinking down the answering moan it gets him. Steve sucks on his tongue and rolls his hips - one long, powerful ripple of those incredible muscles. Eddie meets him halfway, pleasure pooling warm and tight in his belly, and grinds himself down on the tail, half-hard against Steve’s body already-

-and then he stops. 

“Hold on a sec,” he mutters. “What's this?” 

Because there's … something on Steve's tail he didn’t notice before. The slightest of dips where there should be only smooth scales, right where his cock would be if he was human-shaped. It’s kind of difficult to make out in the water and the hazy candlelight, and what can Eddie say? Impulse control is hard for him. Of course he needs to reach out and touch. 

Steve makes a punched-out sound and jerks so hard Eddie almost topples off him. 

“Careful,” he hisses. “It's sensitive.” 

“It's sensitive?” Eddie parrots, still unable to take his hand off the spot. He goes gentler, though, pressing down on it slightly. His fingers slip inside, and he gasps in surprise at the slick, tight heat that engulfs them. Steve gasps, too, but not from surprise. “What is it?” 

Steve scowls at him - or tries to. He has flushed a dark, delicious shade of pink and his eyes are glassy. His breath is coming in ragged little puffs. He is, Eddie realizes, almost painfully aroused. The thought makes something warm and urgent tingle in his own blood. 

“What do you think it is?” Steve retaliates, even as his hips twitch and his fins flutter excitedly. “Did you think I was, like, sex-less when I'm like this or what? I told you I had … parts, they're just a bit different.” 

“Well, excuse me,” Eddie blurts. His flush is trying to compete with Steve's now. “I like your other parts just fine, so I never really put a lot of thought into it.” 

Somewhere around the middle of his frantic string of words, Steve's expression shifts. 

“Oh?” he hums, and rolls his hips again, taking Eddie’s fingers deeper. Eddie can feel how he clenches around them, and his cock gives a needy little throb in response. “Any thoughts now?” 

“Many,” he rasps, “So many thoughts, none of them sex-less.” 

He curls his fingers experimentally, and Steve makes a noise he's never heard from him before. Primal and desperate and positively wrecked. Eddie’s mouth twitches into a sly smile of his own. 

“Why, fish boy,” he purrs against Steve’s lips, starting to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You've never done this before, have you?” 

Steve whines and shudders under his touch, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Of course not, what d’you think? You're the first I've ever- Shit, there's only you, Eds. Only you.” 

And damn, how's a guy supposed to stay calm in the face of that confession? 

“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing back Steve's hair so that he can kiss the tiny patch of scales on his temple. “I guess we're both in for some interesting discoveries.” 

That's another great thing about having Steve Harrington for a boyfriend. He never stops surprising you. 

More celebration ficlets

[shibaraki]

WHAT THE WATER GAVE ME ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

synopsis: when your sailboat is caught in a vicious storm you are saved by a whale sized mer that cannot keep his curiosity—nor his affections—at bay.

tags: GN reader, suggestive, merfolk au, giant mer deku, storms + boating accidents, language barrier, a little angst, fluff, near drowning + mild injury (no detailed desc), courting behaviours, modern fantasy, macro/micro, manhandling (literally), hopeful ending

wc: 6.4K

↳ for the mermay collab hosted by the teahouse server! ↰

There’s little you remember. A breeze carrying the taste of sea salt grew bitter and cutting. The gentle lull of the waves slowly grew treacherous. Freezing sheets of grey rain blurred visibility, ocean foaming at the mouth. You lurched as the boat tipped, taking a hit to the head on the main mast. Grappling with consciousness, you recall how your body had been flung into the depths, a sharp and endless cradle; cold enough, kind enough, that you quickly lost all sensation.

Then you’re gasping desperately. When your lungs fill with cool night air relief floods your system. An ache wracks your being, muscles seizing and bones rattling, but the only thing you can think is: I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.

Everything comes back in small pieces. You slump back and clutch at your soaked shirt, wincing at the bruising around your lungs with each breath. Above is a wide open sky littered with stars and the moon hangs high. You notice that you’re floating then; not on the surface of the water but in a steep puddle that stops above your waist, clothes entirely soaked. Surrounding you are… walls?

Adjusted to the darkness, your eyes drag cautiously across them. They are curved like a bowl, and seem oddly shelved, quite similar to a cupped human hand except much bigger. As that thought crosses your mind the upper shelf moves, and the two walls turn inward, opening a small crevice underneath you to let the water spill back into the sea.

And then a soft lucid croon vibrates through the air. You feel it deep in your chest; the sound is soothing, like a mother’s hum, pressing on an old, innate need for comfort.

Gravity swoops through your belly as the structure moves. Down come the walls. They lay slightly flat, though still keeping you in a shallow divot. Your eyes squeeze shut and sting. The storm must have killed you because what is plain to see could only be conjured in a dream.

The size of a small blue whale—neither blue nor whale. A soft jaw and a pale face, cheeks covered in what appeared to be sunspots. Full lips parted to warble in quiet wonder, revealing a set of large sharp teeth. Either side of the creature's neck are diaphanous slits. Gills. Smatterings of luminescent green scales trail beautifully from the throat to the shoulders. You notice a glow on the ocean’s surface, the rest of his form hidden below.

Rocked off balance as their head dips, dark tendrils of hair clinging to skin, you are met with a pair of large pupil-less eyes. Vibrant green speckled with white, full of curiosity. A few clicks and a whistle echoes into the night. Your tongue feels like a slab of lead, cloven to the roof of your mouth, frozen by unadulterated fear.

It's a mer. It must be. Mer sightings are incredibly rare. You’re in the palm of a legend. A giant one at that.

What you now presume to be the mer’s thumb passes over you cautiously. You flinch despite his obvious attempt at telegraphing the movement. To someone your size it still happens a little too fast. The sinew in your neck hurts, wrung with tension as the thumb stops an inch short of your crown. Seconds elapse. There’s a light pressure, liquid streaming down your face, a back and forth motion, a low warbling.

The mer is petting you.

“Wha—?” your voice comes out rasped, painful as it scratches the inside of your throat. Dissolving into a violent coughing fit, you curl forward with arms crossed over your stomach as you vomit, crying out through the sharp stabs in your ribs. Overhead, the mer whines, and you’re prepared this time as his hands move.

“I’m… I’m okay, I think,” you croaked, mostly to yourself, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The acrid taste of blood and salt lingers in your teeth. Suddenly, a warm gust of air knocks the wind out of you— the tremors too. The soft hair on your arms prickles at the sudden chill as the warmth retreats, but you’re grateful to be a little dryer.

When you glance up the mer is much closer. His face has gentled into sadness. He'd huffed a breath over you the same way one might do to keep their hands warm. You are struck by the thoughtfulness. Unlike the old stories this mer seemed intent on keeping you alive. So far he has treated you softly, albeit clumsily, and tried to comfort you. Understanding settles over you accompanied by a sense of helplessness. To this mer you are probably nothing more than an injured baby bird.

“Did…” you try to speak louder, the words strained. “Did you save me?”

The moonlight kisses him just right. His expression blooms when you speak, a reflexive trill building in his throat to verbalise happiness. Beneath the mass of curls on his head there are two fin shaped ears fluttering. Giant as he may be, the mer is… cute, as well as devastating.

You swallow and wince. It feels like sandpaper. “Can you understand me?” you ask, purposefully slow. Any local information gathered about merfolk was either a lie or rumour. Some say they can understand spoken word and others don’t. Perhaps this mer had migrated from far away where the human tongue is different. Or maybe it was his first time meeting a person. That would explain the enthusiasm.

You’re given a plaintive blink. Membranous lids first, outer lids after. The muted roll of the waves fills the silence as you gaze at one another, nearly forgetting your question all together as you’re pulled in—wading through sea glass depths. Two pulsing clicks ripple across the open water and you startle out of your reverie.

He tips to meet you halfway. You steel yourself, unsteady as you try to stand, and choke a laugh when the creature nudges his nose into your middle. He rumbles a purr, as though pleased by the proximity. You shudder when it resonates pleasantly through your body.

“Okay that’s—dangerous,” you strain a laugh, bracing against his nose. Fatigue threads its way into your muscles. The adrenaline is beginning to wear off and giving way to a harsh headache. Your eyes close, the only mercy being that it is dark out. The mer exhales another hot breath against your lap.

“Guess you won’t be talking anytime soon,” you continue aloud. A weak smile curls at your lips as you recline to look at him better, “Sorry if I don’t make good company”.

Seeing him cross eyed makes you laugh, even through the tenderness, and you stroke your hand against his cheek; so contrivedly real looking that it seems like it must be a trick. Licking the salt water from your lips, you drag your palms from freckle to freckle, forming patterns and constellations. His skin is deceptively soft. Smooth and slippery—like blubber, you can only assume.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you lean into the hum he is emitting, low and supple. You reach with fingertips stretched to skim along his lower lashes. Closer now you see the green hues in his hair where the light reflects. Though he might not be able to understand the language you hoped your reverence would carry through in your tone. You think perhaps it does; a faint red glow stains his fin tipped ears and happy whistles quake through your bones.

The saccharine moment is cut short by something splashing nearby. It sounds big. You startle with a yelp, cowering back into the safety of the mer’s hand. Glancing back over his shoulder, face crinkled and lips thin, you thought he looked almost petulant. How unsettlingly human it is.

Collapsing into a puddle of vertigo, you clutch your head as he suddenly turns. A sad trill reverberates in your skull and you’re sliding, the too-corporeal ground rising to meet you. You land with a thump on damp wood where he puts you down, forcing a pained wheeze from your throat.

Another splash. This time it is followed by a stern wailing call that forces a frantic urgency into the mer’s movements. From above he looks between you and the black horizon, eyes wide and beseeching, as though he wanted to impress his intentions with his gaze. You think you get it.

I’ll be back soon, he’s saying. “Go,” you try to smile and gesture to your surroundings. “It’s not like I can go anywhere anytime soon”.

Relief colours his features. Then he’s gone. Sinking into the ocean like a stone, frighteningly silent. The boat rolls over a passing wave and nausea churns in your stomach. You squint through the moonlight, dizzy, and make out the limp flapping material of the sail, now torn and strewn across the deck. Good enough.

You gather strength and stretch to pull it over your form. If drowning didn’t take you then hypothermia would. Dark spots gather in your vision, closing in as you curl into yourself. The ocean rocks you gently in her arms. You can only lie back—on what you now know to be remains of the boat—listen to the rasp in your breathing, watch the flickering stars blur together, and think of how small you really are.

When you wake the sky is bleeding into dawn with the quieting rays of light. Soft enough that you can look directly at the sun and see the blushing canvas it paints. Sitting up with a wounded groan, you stare at the far off horizon. You cannot discern where reality began and your dreams ended, only that at some point you walked between them.

Tugging the tarp close to your chest you survey the surroundings. Pinpricks of seawater spray up the hull. The mast has been snapped in half and the main sails are gone along with the helm. Below the cabin is flooded. Most of the resources you brought, along with the VHF radio, have seemingly gone overboard.

Your lips are unbearably dry. Skin splits, iron mixing with salt. You inhale deeply, lungs bloating with crisp air, and exhale raggedly through the soreness. First priority is water. Like a newborn calf you amble over to the hatch. There are coolers fixed to the floors under the cockpit that you hope survived—

One broken and empty. One mostly undamaged.

“C’mon… Please…” opening the lock is more strenuous than it should be. Your fingers tremble and slip, still numb. A sob wracks your body. Relief buckles you at the knees and you brace against the counter. Inside is an emergency flare gun and an assortment of non perishables, including biscuits and bottled water.

You fumble with the bottle cap, shaking as you bring it to your mouth. It immediately soothes your throat and you begin to gulp mouthfuls, pulling off only for breath. Tearing the biscuit packet open with your teeth you settle back in the spot you slept on. It crumbles, dry enough to stick to the roof of your mouth, but food is food.

Two things are certain. You’re stuck here, and you have no idea how far off course the storm threw you. You shoot the first flare, a bright red vein soaring into the sky, leaving you with nothing to do but wait. The gun had at least three more rounds. Would anybody see it out here?

Another streak of light flares as the sun rises and casts an orange shimmer across the ocean surface. The giant mer crosses your thoughts as your eyes drag over the large indent pressed into the side of the boat. Though unsure if he existed at all you miss the security of his hands.

You lose focus listening to the sea exhale. Barely cognisant of the formless blur spreading like ink in the distance, growing in size the closer it gets. It slows a few feet away and the momentum has waves jolting through the water. Scrambling to grab the side of the boat as it jerks, ice grips at your heart when you notice the huge shadow lingering nearby.

When it rises the blur sharpens and takes shape. Features distort, rippling under the tide, and you daren’t blink. Eyes of sea glass stare back with equal hesitance. Cool morning light reflects off dark green curls, strands laid to a pale forehead, flat and reminiscent of wet seaweed. The surface breaks dramatically, water rushing down his head and fizzling into foam.

You release a staggered breath, realising you’d been holding it. A mer really had saved you. In daylight you can appreciate the sheer size of him. Shoulders near the width of your boat, covered in opalescent scales and dark scars.

Emboldened by your silence a careful hum vibrates in his throat. His gills pulse and flutter as he comes in closer. The sun is eclipsed by his hand, shadows looming across the deck where his fingers come to rest. Careful, retreating quickly when the structure groans, and then returning again, gentler.

“You… came back,” you whisper. Disbelief bleeds into your voice. A needling sensation flows to your legs as you stand. You grasp his fingertip and the mer smiles—atrill behind his lips, stretched warmly across his face, enough to lift the swell of his freckled cheeks. Light undulates brightly in his eyes, swaying like patterns you see on the seafloor.

“It’s good to know I didn’t lose my mind,” a wave of uncertainty washes over you as the mer watches you expectantly. There’s a clear intelligence in his gaze, rapt inquisitiveness, but you can’t yet be sure he really understands. Equally, you know precisely nothing about mer social etiquette. “Does this make us friends? You’re friendly, right? I hope so. I probably taste like shit, you know”.

Ignoring his curious hum you brace against his hand and lean toward the edge of the deck. Illuminated by the sunlit hues, more of his upper body is visible to you. Waves lap placidly up a strong chest, smooth muscled pecs glistening. The scales spanning his flanks are notably larger and thicker.

You wonder the science behind his existence, if it was simply work of the Gods, or there was some reason for him to be so egregiously large. Merfolk have always been depicted as human sized or close enough to it. “...Guess I should give you a name. You’re pretty green. Midori? Too simple. How about Midoriya?”

His finger wiggles slightly with a playful whistle, happy about the name. It bends to curl around you. Even a slight shift causes the boat to dip. What must be an imperceptible movement for him nearly knocks you on your feet. “Ah—Steady!” your yelp scratches at the inside of your throat and nausea pulses hot in your stomach. “Oh, fuck. That sucked”.

Midoriya’s head tilts and he croons. It sounds apologetic. “Just go easy with me, alright? You could probably squash me like a bug,” you squint at the folds in his finger, and further at the gossamer webbing in the spaces between each knuckle as your stomach twists uncomfortably in hunger. Asking him to bring you fish would probably be futile.

Patting the firm heel you move away from his hand and dismiss his solemn whine. For a creature his size he sure was a bundle of nerves. “Don’t panic. I just need to eat something,” you pick the bottled water up once more and sip, keeping it held in your mouth for a few precious seconds. The sun flares as the giant creature moves silently, leaning in closer. He huffs through his nose at the food packets.

“Nu-uh, you can’t have these. They’re mine,” the biscuit falls apart, sodden between your damp fingers. Tasteless and yet not so insipid now that you’re with company. Swallowing thickly, you watch the large body bob and dither beside the boat, scrutinising your every move.

Hell, you’re not even doing anything particularly interesting. This must be how animals feel in zoos.

Dragging your gaze to the skies your thoughts turn toward getting home. There is nothing for miles. Laid out before you is a near seamless horizon, planes blurring together the longer you look. “Hey, Midoriya. Are you the only one out here, or are there more?” Whales were your first thought. They traveled in pods, to your knowledge. “Is that who called out to you last night?”

Midoriya’s answer comes in wide eyed blinks. A self deprecating smile thins across your lips. The lack of response is expected, though you are struck by the quick flash of emotion crossing his expression as you say, “Nevermind. As long as nothing comes around to eat me before I die on this stupid boat”.

Midoriya pouts. Shakes his head and makes it rain. He clicks firmly before descending into the depths again. You panic and scramble closer to the edge, wondering if you’d upset him, but find that he is lazily circling the area back and forth. His hair moves in soft tendrils around his face, dancing along the current. Your eyes widen, mouth open in awe as he dives lower and suddenly—

Opalescent hues of green and red. Breaching the surface Midoriya arcs his body into the air and twists his torso in your direction, arms splayed out in joy. There isn’t enough time to appreciate him all. His lower half is longer than his upper body, thicker at his waist bordered by wispy iridescent pelvic fins that flare in the breeze, another running the length of his spine. The tail tapers, narrowing toward a large fork ending with two broad fins.

He lands with a great splash. Exhilarated laughter shakes your shoulders as you cling to the nearest fixture, swaying clumsily over the oncoming waves. You squint through the thin spray. White sea foam ripples out in wide rings, sparkling softly under the sun and dissolving in the calm.

“Holy shit,” adrenaline numbs the tenderness throbbing in your gullet. Midoriya jumps again as he draws closer to you, this time with less height, and you cup your hands around your mouth to cheer for him. His beaming grin is all sharp teeth when he resurfaces, finned ears vibrating. He looks happy that you’re happy.

Part of you remains one foot in disbelief. You expect that anytime now you will wake up washed up on an old forgotten beach. Another cannot discount how real the mer feels under your palms as you reach for him, the vibration of his pleased hum shaking your bones and warming your belly. Midoriya rises up into the insignificant touch like a pampered feline and forces your arms wider to accept more of him.

A strong briney smell fills your senses. “That was incredible. Were you trying to cheer me up?” plastered to his cheek in some poor imitation of a hug, you press an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. A glow spreads across his skin like circuitry, crossing over his nose bridge, flushed red. It makes the air taste metallic. You feel another warm exhale billowing where his own mouth pouts, pushing against your lap. Tears prickle behind your eyes and you blink them away as the anxiety in your chest recedes, “Thanks, big guy”.

Midoriya keeps you company well into the day, never straying too far. You acclimate to his presence and feel at ease with him by your side. Hair half dry in the softening light of the afternoon sun he lets you coil his waves around your arm with eyes crinkled at the corners. He doesn’t appear to be bored in the slightest.

You’re kept under his watchful eyes as you amble around what remains of the boat for something, anything, that might help you get home. At one point you wade into the flooded cabin and search for the HF radio again only to be bombarded by a cornucopia of concerned wailing. Lesson learned: Midoriya does not like when you’re out of sight. You come up empty handed, vexed and dizzy.

There are a few instances you’re almost tipped over despite Midoriya’s determination to be careful. One by one, you are gifted with more current-smoothed stones and rusted trinkets than you know how to carry. His curious hand pokes at the broken equipment strewn around. You end up rambling for hours, explaining each gifted object to him to keep yourself conscious. It’s not as if the mer is an unwilling participant. You might be unable to understand him but the stuttered clicking and whistles he responds with are as close to conversation as you're going to get. Plus—it’s cute.

Noon elapses and no vessels in sight. Now laid beside the indent left in the hull, your vision rises and falls as the ocean shifts. Midoriya lies parallel to you, on his back, buoyed on the surface and sunning himself. He looks a lot more vibrant than before, as though he had really soaked up the daylight. A true picture of serenity. His eyes are closed for the first time; an opportunity to observe him candidly.

There are deep scars on his arms, and elsewhere too. Healed pink on skin and pallid white where his scales would be. Your gaze drags lower, over his bare front, appreciating the defined peaks of his abdomen. Down to a toned navel where scales climb over his hip bones, pale skin gradually blending into rich green. Further, to the powerful muscled tail elevated in the water. You absentmindedly lick your lips and wonder where his di—

You halt. Heat flashes through his body in a strange mix of shame and arousal and you violently shake your head as if to throw away the thought.

Midoriya hums. Snapping back you meet that drowsy half lidded stare, caught red handed. You gulp and offer a sheepish grin, “Sorry. I just wanted a closer look”.

At that the mer turns noiselessly and broad ripples fan out into the distance. Cautious, you push up onto your forearms as Midoriya proffered his hand, indicating that you jump onto his palm. Your spine straightens with a frisson of excitement.

“You’ll let me see?” you gestures to yourself and then to the others' languid repose. Midoriya’s eyelids blink. He tilts expectantly. “Fuck. Okay. Promise to catch me?”

Click, click, whistle. It’s as good a ‘yes’ as any.

Weak in the knees, you feel your thighs ache as you move. A rush of wind blows over, sharp and chilly. Your pulse throbs and knocks around your skull. It’s more strenuous than it should be to climb down, a deep instinct unwilling to part with the railings, fighting fear as you hang your lower body over the depths.

Midoriya scoops you up delicately. Your stomach rolls at the sudden change in direction, gravity bearing down on you. You land in the shallow of his palm on hands and knees. Head lifted, you lock eyes, and a sonorous trill thrums through your veins.

“What did I say about being caref—Hey!”

He brings you to his chest. Legs unfurl from under your hips as you slide down onto his collar and land feet first in the ankle deep water covering his body, soaking your pants through. Midoriya is safe, solid ground beneath you, buoyed on the ocean surface, yet still uniquely soft in the way relaxed muscle often is.

You keep tension in your abdomen for balance and give a cursory glance, first seeking permission before wading toward the cluster of green curling around his shoulders. A webwork glow blooms quietly across his skin and hems the edge of his scales red.

Midoriya’s pleased face takes up most of your peripheral vision. A plump mouth filled with pointed teeth that could swallow you whole juxtaposed by the wobbly smile playing on his lips. You crouch, knees wet, and brush your fingers against the hard plates decorating his skin. They’re slightly slimy and the smallest ones are the size of your hand.

“They’re beautiful, Midoriya,” you tell him earnestly, grinning. The kaleidoscopic patterns in his irises appear as though they’re dancing. Flecks of white and gold gleam amidst the green. Humming in dulcet tones, heavy streams of seawater rain down on you as his thumb comes to rest atop your head once again. There’s barely any pressure—seems you no longer need to worry that he might accidentally break your neck.

You squeezed your eyes shut, exhaling harshly as the thick rivulets trickled over your face and glaring the second you looked back at him. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” your nose wrinkles, brine lingering unpleasantly in his nostrils. You think you can taste it in the back of your throat. Midoriya is busy preening, turned into the crook of his arm and creating waves, flustered by such a simple compliment.

A cherry blush follows the path of your thumb as it returns to smoothing over the tiny ridges impressed into each individual scale; retaining your heat for a few seconds before fading into green. They flash luridly at your words—specifically your praise. Knowing you had such an effect on a mer of his magnitude stokes something in you, possessive and fond, a feeling you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to replicate. But it also confirmed what you had been suspecting for most of the day.

“I knew it. You can understand me,” you accuse breathlessly. It isn’t a question. “You’ve been pretending this entire time”.

Midoriya’s expression wanes. His brows pinch into a doleful frown, eyes crossing to tentatively watch you stand and trudge toward his tucked chin, almost losing balance where his collarbones dip and the water suddenly deepens.

Fingers nudged under your thighs to act as a seat. You startle at the sudden elevation; it’s still surreal to feel the ground collapse beneath your feet, your knees collapsing against the pressure. Midoriya brings you up to his face, letting his tail sink into an upright position. Gasp caught in your throat you frantically hang onto the end of his nose. The large mer whistles quietly. Low and forlorn like an apology.

From up here you’re all too aware of up and down—endless in every direction, surrounded by a flat canvas of blue. He’s the only thing you can see for miles. Bottom low caught between your teeth you turn inward, squashing your cheek against him.

“You know I can’t stay here, right?” you tell him. Midoriya listens attentively. You’re close enough to hear the soft slide of lids drawing across his eyes, stained gills venting as he breathes, the waves crashing against his back. You point to the far horizon, “I need to go home, or close to it. Think you can help me one more time, hero?”

You aren’t prepared for the mer to sulk. The lower half of his face slips beneath the water and you’re face to face with a freckled forehead. Looking up at you now, eyes big and round like a puppy, he blows air out from his mouth to create a sad burst of bubbles. You had vastly underestimated his attachment to you; and your own fast-grown affection for him.

But he nods anyway, setting you back on the worn deck and righting his posture. Unfounded guilt squirms in your chest, tightening as you relays the plan in simple terms, knowing that these would probably be your final moments with him.

Get nearer to the shore and fire a flare. That was the plan. He pointed in a specific direction when you asked if he knew where the land was. Unable to understand his complex vocalisations you simply needed to trust he could do it. Easy—the day will darken so the flare will be more visible against the gloaming. You could play the fool and claim the tide brought you in. Most importantly there was no risk of Midoriya being seen and put in danger.

As the sky dims the sun begins to sheath itself below the horizon. The numbness spreading through your limbs at least meant you couldn’t feel the cold.

“We don’t need to get too close,” you kneel over the edge of the bow to speak to him. Hands that held you delicately are now wrapped around the hull, ready to push. “Your kind stays hidden for a reason, right? I don’t want people trying to come after you”.

You consider the gleam in his gaze. Appreciative and amused, as though he found it endearing that you would be worried about him. “That confident, huh?”

Receiving a toothy grin—eyes closing and smiling with him— you find you’re no longer nervous.

Consistently gentle, Midoriya guides the boat. The ocean parts around the oncoming obstruction and leaves behind a long trail of foam. That red network of veins returns, glowing across his upper body as the velocity increases, his powerfully muscled tail working to propel you forward and glinting in the warm evening light.

You call for him to stop when the distant skyline becomes uneven, the familiar bumps and divots of mountains near your port town and the islands surrounding it. The mer brakes abruptly, tall waves crashing up over the deck as your body is thrown backward, narrowly missing the broken mast. You can hear the various gifts he gave you rolling into one another over his frantic stuttered clicks as Midoriya tries to get a look in.

“I’m okay! I’m alive,” barely, you think. There’s a worrisome pain in your rib you can’t let yourself think about. The ground beneath you tips as his fingers come to rest on the boat's edge. You begin to slide on your ass, unceremoniously careening toward him, vertigo flooding your senses.

Midoriya catches you, murmuring at your spluttered curses. Abruptly, you cover his mouth and swallow the acrid bile crawling up your throat, mustering up a tired glare. Heart palpitating, it echoes harshly through your body. The muscles in your legs are heavy like wet sand and your vision doubles, overlaps, and then rights itself.

“Starting to think you like manhandling me,” you croaked teasingly. It’s a testament to Midoriya’s attentiveness that he hasn’t accidentally killed you yet. Though you wouldn’t be surprised if most of your organs had completely rearranged themselves given how you’ve been thrown around in the past few hours.

The playful air dwindles when reality rears it's head. “…I guess this is it, hero”.

There’s that sad sorry sound again. Melancholy bleeds into the atmosphere as silence befalls the two of you. Staring intently at one another, committing faces to memory; kiss curls tucked behind ears, faint sunspots, scales of green and honeydew, the luminescence that belies his true emotions. You wondered what Midoriya saw as he looked back at you. Just a silly lost human.

“Thank you, Midoriya,” your palm cups his cheek, thumb stroking beneath his eye, a touch that probably feels like an itch. He leans into it anyway. “You saved me twice now. I’ll never forget this”.

A mellifluous song thrummed in his throat. You feel the vibrations under your hand and it seeps honeyed and sweet into your bones. Outlined in soft evening light against a dusky sky, Midoriya nuzzles you one last time.

You’re anchored by unexpected grief when he sets you down. The hull rocks as the tide rolls. Water cascades down his scarred forearm as he lifts it up, fist unfurling to reveal a single scale. His scale.

You gape. “You’re giving me this…?”

He suddenly looks painfully bashful you scrambled to take it; a scale still wrought with luminescent colour, alive, still connected to him in ways you may never understand. Having it, holding him. Even after you were home Midoriya would be with you.

Emotion swells within you, struck by the trust you’ve been given. Merfolk remain a mystery for a reason. Human greed knows no bounds and money would be no object if you decided to sell him out.

“Thank you, I—I promise I’ll keep it safe. And you, Midoriya. I won't tell anyone,” you vowed, cradling the scale close.

Shadows widen across the bow as he then rises up ever so slightly. Midoriya dipped his chin. Your eyes reflexively clenched shut at the wet pillowy press of his lips taking up the entire left side of your face. A kiss. Seawater rivulets drop down to your collar, soaking into the fabric. Before you can speak he does it again, lower this time. Mouth pressed to your front, beginning at your chest and ending at your navel. A purr rumbles in his throat. You shudder, thighs clenching as the titillating vibrations reverberate between them.

When Midoriya pulls back his finned ears are vibrating earnestly and his scales flush red. The surface of the water is suddenly displaced and the waves are forced in every direction as he darts away from the boat with a trill, resurfacing a few feet away. “I see how it is. The type to hit and quit, eh?” your voice grows louder, lips twitching into a besotted smile. Egregiously lightheaded and giddy, you yell out, “I’ll miss you, Midoriya! Don’t forget about me!”

Midoriya responds in kind. He waves coyly—understanding more than he lets on—yet remains at a distance until the flare is lit. It arced far into the darkened sky with a quiet hiss, casting a spotlight over your stranded vessel, and only when lights blink in the distance does he disappear from view.

You tuck the scale into your waistband, concealed beneath your shirt. The rescue boat approaches at high speeds. Garish red with a v-shaped hull, cutting through the sea to reach you. There’s a five person squad sidling up at your side, immediately tending to any major injuries and tightly strapping a thick orange life jacket around your upper half.

“What happened?”

“Got caught in the storm last night. Was stranded until the tide brought me in”.

“Do you know your name?” You give it in full along with your birthday. “Are you dizzy? Nauseous?” More than they can imagine.

Concussion, they tell you. Fractures, probably.

“What’s all this?”

“Oh, that…” you turned to gaze at the collection of things Midoriya brought to you throughout the afternoon. “That was there when I woke up here”.

“Strange. Maybe a mer took a liking to ya,” the man, Oda, grins. His mouth is crooked, speaking in a tone meant to be playful.

“What makes you say that?”

He blinks, expression dimming. “Never heard the stories?” You shake your head. “Sailors used to say finding gifts an’ sea stones on board was an omen. Especially the shiny ones. Meant a mer wanted to seduce you”.

Another voice, their name escapes you, interrupts. “Eh? I thought they did that whole singing thing?”

Oda yanks a blanket around your shoulders with more force than necessary as he shoots his crew mate an exasperated glare. “That’s sirens, idiot”.

“What’s the difference?”

You tune out their bickering, acutely aware of all the polished stones in the pile. Of the scale hidden flat to your back. You look to the calm dark surface, throat swelling at the implication. Hand held to your left cheek you feel the plush impression of Midoriya’s lips like a phantom. Accepting his offerings—what had that meant? To him, to you?

The muffled voices come back into focus as Oda rounds on you once more, encouraging you onto the rescue vessel. “C’mon, let’s get’cha home. And don’t stress the big stuff, we’ll tow your boat in”.

You can’t take your eyes off the ocean, aching. The distinct feeling that you have misplaced something incredibly important sits poignantly in the recesses of your mind. It sees you to the dock, strong-armed into an ambulance because your legs have forgotten what solid earth is, and when the doors slam shut to obstruct the view your chest hollows out.

The hour is past midnight and the streets are empty. Miraculously you're mostly unharmed. You make it home with bruising, hairline fractures and a bad concussion. Your body looked a bit like a pollock painting if you squinted, blue and black converging on one another around your skin, vascular threads of purple hemming your ribcage. Painkillers dulled the pain enough that movement was tolerable.

Oda kept his word, decent enough to salvage your things. They are lumped together in a crate hidden in the doorway, an ever present reminder that what happened was real, not a figment of your concussed imagination. The scale remained awkwardly concealed under your shirt. You peel off your clothes, taking it between your hands. Vision adjusted to the darkness, you see a fleeting shimmer passing through the ridges, reflecting on your bedroom walls before dimming.

You climb into bed, plagued by thoughts of Midoriya. His plaintive farewell song, the reverent stars in his eyes whenever you spoke, the affectionate lean into your every touch. You should leave it alone. Let it be. A sane person would allow the memory age naturally and change into a story to recite over sake for years to come. After all, sometimes things just happened to you, like gravity or grief—or being the object of affection for a mer about the size of two school buses.

Scale cuddled to your front, the memory of his mouth laid itself against your sternum. It pins you to the mattress and begin to hum. The notes are almost tangible, echoing through skin, close-lipped and soothing. A final thought bleeds into your consciousness as it slips:

You hope you can find him again.

[intistone]

Wanted to make some prompts for Mermay! Most of these prompts are made from the help of frens as well as staring a mers and trying to figure something out.

Rules:

- Art or writing :)

- can be Scars and Scales or other mer au themed (credit the artist or writer if you do so)

- no suggestive or nsfw plz want to keep it open for everyone

- feel no pressure to do every single one HHHH ITS FINE ITS FOR FUN.

Prompts for each day:

Fish

Friends

Scuba

Candy

Caught on camera

Boat

Puzzle

Swimming

Stars

Angst

Sick

Soap opera

Lava lamp

Fishing net

Myth

Scars

Hug

Song

Crossover

Beach ball

Water gun

Jumpscare

Memory

Crab

Glow

Octopus

Sunrise

Take your mer to work day

Color

Cozy

Home

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 67

There won't be a fic rec list next week because I will be traveling. There might also not be a fic rec list the next next week because I will be traveling again (this time for work). So, expect an extra long list middle of June :)

Padam by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) @halehathnofury - Superbat, wip. I am in love with this fic where Bruce and Clark meet while young/in college. And Clark exploring his sexuality! It's perfect! A good fic to read during Pride Month too :)

Mission: seducing Superman by Speechless_since_1998 @mylifeisfruk4ever - Superbat, wip. I'm always so happy when this fic where Battinson Bruce accidentally/on purpose seduces Superman updates. And I love the fact that Bruce keeps adopting/acquiring children and Clark finds this super attractive.

liquid courage by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. I recced this fic in a server I'm in this week, and I had to rec it here (again) too! Drunk Clark is Best Clark, especially when he confesses his love to Bruce :)

I reach out from the inside by Violet138 @violent138 - Superbat, wip. Body swap fic! Body swap fic! With angst!! I was so delighted when I saw this fic. I love how Bruce and Clark have to get used to their new bodies and powers (or lack of).

midnight rush by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Batman, complete. An outsider POV fic! It's based off of this post Res made, and it is so much fun to read, especially the slow realization that Bruce is more than he seems (and the panic that follows).

Milky by SalParadiseLost @salparadiselost - Superbat, wip. I love me a good cat Bruce fic. I love me a good creature fic. I also love me a good world building fic. This fic has all of that and more!!

Patchwork Pod by KtKat9 @ktkat99 - Superbat & Batfam, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! Poor Clark is really going through it :( If you're sad about MerMay being over, definitely give this fic a read to cheer yourself up!

Alien Twister by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, complete. I was giggling uncontrollably while reading this fic. SO CUTE!

A New Home by Elegitre @elegitre - Batfam, wip. An AU were Tim is in the foster system, and is going to a new foster family when his current foster parent can't take care of him anymore (I still love you Mrs. Smith, and all your cats) I like the author's note at the end of the latest chapter "you can pry 'found family' out of my cold, dead hands." I feel the same way.

Broken Bones by Elegitre - Batfam, wip. WINGFIC MY B E L O V E D. They are one of my many One True Weaknesses. Poor Tim, he is going through it.

Happy reading!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)

...

You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.

You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.

Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.

Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."

This is a nightmare. A hallucination.

"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."

"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"

"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.

"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."

"You bit me!"

"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."

"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."

⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇

You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.

There’s nowhere to go.

Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"

"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.

Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.

Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.

The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.

He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.

"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.

You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.

Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”

Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."

You make it up another two footholds before you slip.

Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.

You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.

Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."

You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?

"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"

"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."

"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"

You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"

"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”

Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"

Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.

He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.

"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."

You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...

Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"

You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."

You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.

Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"

Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."

You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.

You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.

He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.

Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?

Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.

You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.

"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.

"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."

You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"

Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.

At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."

“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.

At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.

Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"

You huff. "When I can, clearly."

He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."

"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.

"Then how d'you catch food?"

"I don't have to catch my food."

"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."

"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.

"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."

"If that's even possible," Gaz says.

You scowl. Rude.

Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."

"Watch it."

A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"

"Maybe."

"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."

You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.

Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.

"We both have bones.”

"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.

He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.

Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.

"My thigh is like a seal?"

"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.

You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.

Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.

You grab his hands. "Hey!"

He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”

"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.

"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"

You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."

A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."

"Absolutely not."

"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."

“Let us in,” Gaz says.

“No.”

"Not even me?" he asks.

"No."

They both frown.

"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"

You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"

"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"

Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."

"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."

He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.

Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"

You cross your arms. "None of your business."

"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.

“I didn't say that.”

"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.

All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"

Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”

"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"

Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.

Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."

"But it's morning!"

"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."

"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.

"It will,” Gaz agrees.

You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.

A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”

You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.

Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"

"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

[spacexseven]

tuna I am. thinking about eelzai. for it is mermay and thus His Time.

imagine. you go out on the water. very cold night, very shitty boat. your engine stalls (definitely didn't get viciously tail-thwacked by a certain eel until it broke that's definitely not what happened) and you get stuck out there, and there's no one else out who will hear you call for a tow, so you're in for the night.

because hes just OH so nice amd has ZERO ulterior motives, dazai hauls his huge ass into your boat (with just how fucking long he is you're surprised he didn't sink it) and offers to let you huddle up with him for warmth! well less offers and more like immediately starts coiling around you before you can respond but you get it. while he's a naturally cold blooded creature, his human half runs pretty hot- perhaps in order to regulate his species' body temp in various underwater environments. it's hard to deny that the heat he radiates its very nice... even if he's soaking wet and his grip is too tight and he keeps licking you with he thinks you won't notice.

I have been Thinking about this for like 3 hours. need him so bad.

- 🩹

omg i really wanted to get to this before may ends and!! i made it cheers

if you're new to mer au check out some of the other stuff so you know what to expect from eelzai! yandere character.

the reason why you're out in the cold, guided only by your tiny lamp and the moonlight is because of dazai, since he won't leave you alone in the morning. trying to traverse the waters in daytime is terribly inefficient because a giant sea creature grabs onto the side of your boat and threatens to topple you over if you don't play (and with a perfectly unassuming smile on his face too, the devil).

you beloved boat has served you for a long time now, a simple but trusty thing that has travelled many hours with you and survived many attempts at dazai's...playtime. but there's only so much tail smacking and claw digging it can take before it gives in on itself, and it just so happens that tonight's when it finally surrenders to dazai's attacks. it only takes a little shove from dazai for the engine to splutter and come to a complete stop, refusing to budge no matter how many times you kick it or plead it to start up again.

and who else shows up but dazai himself? he doesn't even have the shame to pretend to feel guilty about stranding you in the middle of nowhere with your lamp flickering out thanks to his shove, and your phone unable to call for help, and instead he looks up at you like he just so happened to come across you, like he had absolutely nothing to do with your current predicament. he straightens himself out until he's face to face with you, and then looks at your boat with a surprised expression.

"that looks bad," he says, and the surprise morphs into something more wicked, "poor you. can a little human really survive out here on their own?"

"i have a lighter," you lie, "and i will singe your eyebrows off."

he pouts and drags himself down under the dark waters before popping up again on the other side, splashing more cold water onto you, "you must be cold," he croons, clearly relishing in your troubles, "a little flame won't help."

you can't even deny it because you're shivering, even under all your layers. but you won't let him win, can't let him hold yet another victory over your head and grin at you with his too-sharp teeth and his piercing eyes, calling you a weak human once again.

but you've come prepared, and you pull out a thick blanket to wrap over yourself while you consider your options to make it out of the water, either by rowing or finding a way to start up the engine again. except, as you unfurl the wonderful piece of cloth, dazai glares at it and dives head-first, frighteningly fast, making sure to flick his tail in your direction to drench your newfound ray of hope with freezing water. you stare at it, your mind numb and your heart shattered.

"oops," he giggles from behind you, "i didn't mean to do that."

sighing, you resign yourself to your fate. if you rowed hard enough, you could forget about the cold chilling your limbs, right? and you'd have to reach shore eventually, even if it takes...a few hours. you didn't go out that far anyway. but as you rummage in your boat for your oar—the one you went out of your way to get just in case you had to smack dazai in the face whenever he got a little too handsy and eager—you feel the boat tilt backwards, and you turn to face dazai grinning at you with his hands grabbing onto the rear of the boat.

"don't worry about the cold," he, in a motion so fluid you barely see it happening, hauls himself onto the boat, causing you to stumble over and creating a perfect opportunity for dazai to lean over and grab you, ignoring your screeching as he brings you over to him, "i can keep you warm!"

and, oh—you hate it. you hate the unfamiliar sensation of a tail wrapping itself around your legs, you hate his long arms holding your upper body still and his head on your shoulder, looking up at you with faux innocence. you hate the fact that though he's dripping wet and he should be freezing cold, he's surprisingly warm, and somewhat comfortable to be contained within. you hate the way he's careful, too, because you'd have never expected him to be so delicate with the way his claws press over your skin. of course, his caution doesn't extend to stopping himself from placing a few wet kisses here and there, or playfully nipping at the skin of your neck, but it's more than you'd hoped from the same dazai that regularly threatened to eat you.

you're practically immobilized, too, gently rocking with the waves as dazai hums delightedly, but the sight of the stars against the dark sky is gorgeous and the slow movement of the water is reassuring, even with an unfamiliar weight around your body and a predator over you. your oar is long abandoned, and your engine peacefully resting, but you can't find it in yourself to be panicked when dazai's warmth is so comforting against the chill in the air and his stroking slowly lulls you to a much needed rest.

just a few moments, you tell yourself. but when you wake up, the sun has risen and dazai is long gone, but your boat is close to shore, and you know exactly who pushed you all the way here.

maybe night trips weren't that bad.

[starboundpix]

day fourteen ✧ storm

"It's raining outside," Sun says, sitting up when thunder rumbles in the distance.

"Hmm, is it?" It's hard for you to care when you're so warm and comfortable, sandwiched between Sun and Moon. Their bodies protect you from the stone floor of the cave as you lie on Moon's chest and drape your legs over Sun's tail. The deep blue mer is dozing, yet his arms are strong and tight around you, holding you to his chest. You shift in his hold, about to drift back asleep when Sun speaks again.

“I know you love being with us, dearie, but perhaps you should go back home. We don’t want you getting sick or hurt in the storm, no we don’t!”

You whine, reaching an arm out to pat Sun’s shoulder. Your eyes are closed, so you miss and pat his stomach, much to his amusement. “Stop worrying,” you say. “I’m safe with you two, aren’t I?” At his hum of affirmation, you continue. “The weather app said the storm will pass in an hour and we’re sheltered by the cave. So lie down and take a nap with us.”

“Mmm, the human is right, Sunny. Sleep,” Moon grumbles, the vibrations traveling through you from where your back is pressed against him.

Your lips curl into a soft smile when you feel Sun shift, lying back down. Moon removes an arm from you so the yellow mer can rest his head on the offered arm. A clawed hand gently grabs your own, threading your fingers together. At the same time, you feel Moon’s arm tighten around your waist as his tail flops over Sun’s own, creating the most comfortable nap and cuddle pile you’ve ever been in.

“Goodnight,” you say with a small laugh, tightening your hold on Sun’s hand. 

“Sweet dreams!” and “Sleep well,” are the responses, both spoken in warm and affectionate tones.

The pattering of raindrops grows louder, and the rolling thunder adds to the crashing of waves, creating the perfect background noise for you to drift off into sleep. And so you do, with two beautiful mer wrapped around you, warm and content and happy.

note: this was inspired by me taking the longest nap today. I just wanted cozy sleepy vibes during a storm >u<

mermay 2024 masterlist

[paperstarwriters]

Abyssmal

short and sweet fic lol. It's been difficult squeezing time to write in between my classes as of late, but I wanted to write something out for MerMay. Just to try it, since I've never done MerMay before. Hopefully I'll be able to another one next year and onwards and all that <3

anyways I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Mer!Muriel x reader

Warnings: protective Muriel, bittersweet ending

Summary: You want to protect Muriel and his fellow Mer-folk from getting caught in traps set out by wealthy billionaires hoping to be able to present a spectacle at their next dinner.

Muriel wants to protect you from getting murdered by the people with harpoons sent by those same wealthy billionaires. Unfortunately for you Muriel has more of an advantage in keeping you for himself safe.

He's trying to keep you safe.

Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word count: 2,666

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You dream of water sometimes.

All consuming, all encompassing, filling your lungs, filling your ears, nothing but the muted swirl of bubbles around you as you float in near weightlessness, watching sunbeams pierce the veil that ripples between one shade of blue and another.

Some would call it drowning, but there’s no need for air when you dream.

A bubble escapes your lips. Your lungs burn with the need for air.

So how do you survive?

How are you—

A hand presses against your back, cradling you as you feel the pressure of the water pull past you. It’s worse than wind as it presses through your face at the sudden onset of speed, it’s worse than the biting chill that wind presses against your cheeks, for the water clings, and pulls much harder than air would ever dare to.

Your lungs, all too suddenly begin to burn, the hands around you tightening as if it knows, pushing you forward to all the more sooner let you breech the surface.

And breech you do.

Water sprays around you as you surface, gasping for air, in big heavy gulps, warring with the need to cough out the water that had slipped through your nose. Clinging to a shoulder—who’s you aren’t quite sure—you cough and hack struggling to wipe the water from your face and nose and mouth, trying to see through the fat droplets that cling to your eyelashes and threaten to drop into your eyes blinding you all over again.

You pry an eye open and find yourself immediately blinded by sunlight.

It takes a few blinks to adapt to the brightness, fluttering open and closed as you furiously wipe the water from your eyes. Your eyes flutter open and you catch a bright gleam of blue—light glittering off the water’s surface forcing your eyes back closed. Another attempt at prying them open earns you a glittering eyeful of green, glass shards perhaps, you can’t quite tell, eyes promptly forced back closed before you can get a good look.

Your eyes are still closed, still being scrubbed from the water and sunlight when the arms that held you press you against the ledge of a rocky surface allowing you, to finally feel the cold and rough embrace of land a stark contrast to the hands that once held you. It takes you a moment, coughing water and shivering, as the hand that saves you gives you a rough pat on the back, encouraging as much water as they can from your lungs, encouraging another mouthful of water from out of your stomach.

It takes a while, but your eyes finally flutter open once more, even if the water stings as it slips past your eyelashes, even if you have to furiously blink to get it out of your eyes, you still manage to open them.

And in the shadows of the cavern you find yourself in, his green eyes glow familiarly bright.

Dark hair floats around him, almost looking like dark tendrils reaching out from around him, but his eyes, bright green cut through the shadows, unblinking even as water sloshes over them.

He watches you in silence, as if staring at something new and unknown, despite the number of times you’ve met before. At the very least he no longer bears his sharp jagged teeth.

You offer him your hand and watch as he pulls away for a moment, frightened like a small animal, as if the body hidden below the water’s surface wasn’t massive. As if it didn’t surround you with it’s size. Still he waits until you dip your hand beneath it’s surface and wait for him to approach, before his hand entwines with yours, and he pulls himself, to the surface’s edge.

He needs no help up, capable of hauling his upper body to the stony surface with one thick arm alone, resting his chest on the stony edge as he peers up at you still holding your hand. He seems relaxed, holding himself up by that water’s edge, though then again, perhaps his tail helps with the support.

He runs his fingers over your hands in careful curious little strokes, rubbing at your short nails with the pads of his fingers, half scales and half flesh. His own nails are more akin to talons, ones he carefully holds away from your skin.

He touches you as if he’s never held you before, as if he’s worried that you might run away, and yet, as soon as you reciprocate, as soon as you trace your fingers along a familiar pattern along his hand, you find him squeezing your hand and pressing his cheek against the softness of your palm, a small smile growing on his lips.

You wonder if it’s his name. If it’s how you can say Muriel in his absence of words and speech.

Though mer-folk are capable of speech, as seen by their ability to trade and argue against overfishing in their oceans Muriel remains silent, the pale streak around the skin of his neck the likely source of his agony. Though you converse easily with words carved into dirt, it doesn’t stop you from lamenting his injury. You don’t know what had hurt him there, some stray piece of plastic, the webbing of a net, or some malicious human behaviour you cannot tell, but you resent it all the same.

It’s why you keep returning here after all. Why you keep meeting.

“Thank you.” Your words are soft, hoarse as you cough up another lungful of water. Muriel watches in quiet horror as you do. He reaches up, as if hoping to do something to aid you, but hesitates a look of confusion crossing his face before he pulls back returning his hold to entwine with yours and squeeze acting as a form of comfort in lieu of a hug. You squeeze in turn offering him a small smile, and another “thank you” as your sputtering finally draws to a close.

Once more the silence returns, and though you squeeze his hand to offer reassurance, and he squeezes yours in turn, the silence is heavy with unspoken words. The faint crash of waves against the stoney ledge and the cavern’s walls echoes, the sound of birds and trees and wind is audible from the opening above, but the absence of words and the weight of his stare on you still breed a wealth of discomfort.

He squeezes your hand.

He knows what you want to say.

You still say it. Of course you do.

“I have to go back.” And his eyes narrow, levelling a bitter glare your way. “Muriel, please. It’s not safe for you down there.” He gestures sharply at you and you bite the urge to roll your eyes. “I know, I know, it’s not safe for anyone, but someone has to dismantle it, and it’s better that a human gets trapped than a mer.”

He pushes himself further up to the surface, shaking his head furiously hands gesturing wildly, before he pauses and presses a sharp nail into the dirt.

’They want to hurt you too.’ He scribbles out.

“They will hurt me regardless,” you retort. He begins to write but you interrupt him before he can. “Muriel. I know how you feel about that cage. I promise I’ll be fine okay?” His eyes flicker up to you almost pleading for a moment as his hand furiously tries to scribble out more words. “Really Muriel. I saw the logo, I saw the chains around your wrist, I know that—”

“No.” He grabs you with his free hand. Pulling you close as if you wouldn’t be able to hear the rough gravel of his voice otherwise. As if you did not turn your whole attention to the low rumble of his voice. “No. You don’t. You don’t know.” He pulls you closer, holds you tightly, and yet you don’t find yourself worried at the threat of pain. You trust him too much perhaps, too used to him saving you from troubles. To used to returning the favour. “They hurt humans too. They’ll hurt you. I don’t want to lose you.”

It’s only when your hand dips into water where you expected stone that you yank yourself backwards, surprised at how far he had pulled you away, too entranced by the intensity of his eyes how he looked like he was almost going to cry, and the way he pulled you close as if offering a hug.

You want to hug him. You’re tempted to dip back into the water if only to offer him that hug, but he holds you back now, pressing you away where he once held you close.

“It’s dangerous,” he insists, voice somehow both smooth and strained. Strained with emotion. Smooth as if well-used. You’re tempted to reach forth and touch his neck, trace your fingers over that scar. Perhaps it’s old. Perhaps it had long since healed.

Perhaps—

“Stop.” The strain grows stronger, his hold on you firmer as one hand pulls away to catch your stray wrist, fingers following temptation before your mind could stop them, before you were even aware of what you were really doing. Yet, even aware of it now, you can’t find it in you to want to stop.

You just want to hug him. To hold him. Can he not see that?

Maybe it was underhanded, but maybe it could convince him. A hug, or perhaps even a kiss. An appeal to his heart, an appeal to the friendship you’ve built over so many—

Your stomach growls, the sound of it echoing through the cavern, like the growl of some beast. A growl that was somehow only scary to the tension resting on Muriel’s shoulders as they finally sag and a soft smile is sent your way. With gentle care, Muriel sets you back firmly upon dry land as he retreats into the water. He waves to you, making an eating motion, as if he couldn’t just tell you that he was going to get you food. With a sharp turn and a flash his tail, Muriel dives into the cold water below, leaving you watch his figure fade into the blue-green waters as he swims deeper and deeper away from you.

And once again, you find yourself alone in the familiar shadow of the cavern. It’s not all too bad of a place to linger. There is an opening above that lets in sunlight and moonlight, and Muriel had brought you the softest pillow and blanket you had ever used—after they had been dried out of course—but there is very little to do all on your own without Muriel to keep you company.

Not that you intend to stay here too long, but it would at the very least help measure the time. If you had a ball perhaps, you could measure how many times you could bounce and catch a ball to see how long it took Muriel to leave and return. If you had a ball you could figure more accurately how long until he was a reasonable distance from the cave.

Instead you measure by your heartbeat. It’s erratic now, anxious in the face of what you were about to do, and the possible time limit you had to get all your gear. You wouldn’t be able to get your abandoned wetsuit on in time, but you could probably grab your goggles, and your flippers maybe. Oxygen was no go, with canisters empty and unusable but you wouldn’t need to go that deep anyways—not compared to the depth of the cavern at least. You knew what mechanism you needed to trigger, just a simple pin you needed to pull. In and out, a simple task.

You dove beneath the water’s surface.

And Muriel watched you dive.

Again, he watches you swim

He understood why you were doing it, he knew full well your intentions—you had argued them to him time and time and time again, but it still pained him to watch, to see you try to sneak around him, to see you fail to recognize the danger posed to you.

You’re dealing with cruel humans. Humans who would not hesitate to hurt and maim anyone who got in their way, anyone who stopped them from collecting the mer-folk they sought to harvest.

He can’t exactly blame you for trying though. Maybe he could have been more explicit in his warning, maybe he could have told you, used his voice for once in his life.

But would you even listen to him then?

He still recalls the phantom sensations of your hands reaching for him, holding him, cradling him as if he were something soft and reverent—something worthy of reverence. You traced your fingers over his scales with the most gentle touch, uncaring that they may cut your softer skin. And the way you leaned in as if you wanted more. A hug a kiss, whatever, the mere thought alone filled him with that wretchedly dark sense of greed.

But… he could be greedy now, couldn’t he?

His teeth and tongue itch, longing to taste the very thing he’s wanted since he’s met you—since you told him your name. Precious, precious thing to have. A valuable gift he will never forget. For so long he’s longed to feel the sound of it his mouth, to feel the ridges of the syllables and the hollows of the vowels. He wants to engrave the very shape of it on his tongue.

He wants to sing you your name.

He knows what it will do to you, he knows what will happen.

But your recklessness makes his greed seem noble in comparison, and none of his other songs seem to last long enough.

He’s just trying to keep you safe. To keep you from getting killed by those divers that you still don’t know about, wielding harpoons, and the same symbols that litter those cages. He sings to keep you safe, he sings to keep you alive.

He sings to bring you back to him.

He sings your name, and the melody—the praise the words of fond affection sung in a tongue you’d never understand—all come almost second nature to him. Like breathing.

A pang of pain strikes his chest. He breathes easy as you suffocate. But only for a little while. Only to keep you safe. To keep you from dying; from being captured, tortured and killed.

He watches as your body falls slack in the water, as your feet and arms drop to a halt and begin to float as you no longer exert effort to keep them close to you. When you turn it is slow and lazy as if you have no regard for the breath burning in your lungs, before you slowly begin to kick your feet and swim his way. Your lips part, and a small smile graces your lips as your very breath escapes you a swirling bubble of silver, but Muriel is quicker than you underwater, and he’s in front of you before you can dare breathe.

He presses his lips against yours.

He fills your lungs with his breath, shares the oxygen his gills pull from the water around you, and he carries you back up to the surface where you can breathe and he will not speak.

And again you will forget that you’ve tried this.

And again he gets to pull you back into his arms.

Maybe this time you’ll linger longer. Maybe this time he’ll let himself sing to you more, stopping you before you even begin to try.

Maybe this time he can make his offer. For you to become something that can explore and wander the water you love so dearly. For you to stay where it’s safe.

For you to stay with him.

Ah, the greed of a siren. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

05/10/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico, Con, and Kristian at Basingstoke; Jes Tom; Madeleine Sami's Birthday; New Watch Parties; Fan Spotlight; MerMay; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys is on his way to Basingstoke for the con! Also, just recently announced, he'll be joining To_29_And_Beyond on June 7 and 8 in 29 Palms California! You can get tickets here: To29AndBeyond.com

Img Sources: Rhys Darby's Instagram / To_29_And_Beyond Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika in his cat era <3

Source: Rita Ora's Instagram

== Vico, Con, and Kristian ==

Basingstoke Comic Con is starting off strong! The first day we got to see lots of sightings of Vico, Con, and Kristian from their panels! Rhys is joining tomorrow!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram Stories

== Madeleine Sami ==

Happy Birthday to our wonderful Archie! Hopefully she didn't have to crawl out of snake for this one! Getting some chill time with her Double Parked co-star: Antonia Prebble!

Source: Antonia Prebble's Instagram

= Jes Tom =

Jes Tom was out performing at Netflix Is A Joke Fest!

== Watch Party Reminders ==

Palm Royale WP May 16 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @ dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST! Available on Apple TV.

Wrecked S3 WP May 13-May 17 - 3:30pm PT / 6:30pm ET / 11:30pm BST! If you need access feel free to dm me here at @gentlebeardsbarngrill or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight, @melvisik's Cast Card's from the last two days were Jenna Carley (aka Eugenia "who I hear had a child with Sebastian...") and Mawie D Lewis, aka one of the Piano Workers that helped make Stede's Fuckery complete!

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

Our darling crewmate @patchworkpiratebear has more colouring pages for us! 31 days of pages! Wow!

Source: PatchworkPirateBear's Tumblr

== Mer May ==

The daily prompts from @saveofmdcrewmates have been:

Day 9: "Revenge" Day 10 is "Where's the fucking loot?!"

= Snejpowa =

@snejpowa Has really be hitting it hard this May! Check out these gorgeous colors for the last couple days of prompts!

@snejpowa's Tumblr

== Blueberreads ==

More MerMay prompts from our dear friend @blueberreads! I love all the detail in the Revenge pics!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by blueberreads (@blueberreads_)

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A post shared by blueberreads (@blueberreads_)

Source: @blueberreads Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! Happy Friday! I hope you've started your weekend off having fun and are getting some rest!

It seems like spirits are up today! I don't know if it's just from the polite menacing yesterday, or all the excitement and sightings with the convention happening-- but I'm really loving seeing people in good spirits. I know we've all had a bit of a rough time of it lately, and we deserve to enjoy life a bit for a change!

This life has so many wonders to offer-- if you happen to be in Europe, the Northern Lights are going on right now and all the pictures everyone has shared have been absolutely stunning. I've never gotten to see them in person before-- but the photos are radiant, I can't imagine what it'd be like IRL-- please if you haven't seen them and they're still around tomorrow go out and take a peek!

Something else I've noticed the last couple days crew, is a lot of you are feeling more comfortable talking about your insecurities and fears with each other. This is really wonderful, because so many people are coming out and are trying to support one another in them-- and that's what crew is all about. Seeing people build their confidence bit by bit with every interaction, it makes me feel so incredibly fuzzy inside. Every day you continue to grow into these wonderful little remarkable beings, and getting to see that blossoming in you all over the past few months has been a serious privilege. You aren't your insecurities lovelies, and while those feelings are absolutely valid, I hope you can get to a point (if you aren't already there) where you can hold them in your heart, feel them, give them love, and let them go so they too can heal the parts of you that caused them in the first place.

We're all on your side crew, I hope you know that. You are an etherial soul in a delightfully beautiful little shell, remember to love yourself too so you can keep blooming into that exceptional gleam of wonder that you are. Happy Weekend Crew, I hope your next few days are filled with good times and laughter <3

Art by @thelatestkate

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is Gifs I don't think I've seen before!

Gifs Courtesy of @ fandomsmeantheworldtome and @ neverswungonswingingstars!