#it barely survived the century and its reputation was probably the worst it had ever been

[keepthemacramesecret]

theres also a cool time/clocks motif going on w raffles which i am predictably haunted by but we cant get into that today

[onehaleofanadventure]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning:  No Archive Warnings ApplyCategory: M/M Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics) Relationship: Tim Drake/Jason Todd

Summary: 

Tim really should've seen this coming. Although the not-so-nice merman and his anger were a surprise.

Mermaids and Mermen once ruled all the lands, taking the seas and oceans as prizes that the humans were not allowed to touch. Thousands of years later, man bound together to end mer-tyranny and take back the waterways that made life easier. The first years of the war decimated the humans, only having survived through sheer numbers: humans outnumbered the mer a thousand to one.  

However, there were mer who also fell in those first years. The humans, inquisitive as they are, collected to fallen mer, and those who were too weak and injured to return to the water. Through intensive study, the humans learn several things about the merpeople. First, even in death, they were all beautiful beyond reason; second, their webbed hands ended in large, sharp talon-like claws that could easily rend a man to pieces in a matter of seconds; and third, they had two sets on teeth, one normal and blunt like humans, and another set of razor sharp, needle-like teeth meant to cut through bone like butter.  

They also learned about the differences between a mermaid and a merman. Merpeople were inherently both sexless, possessing—though hiding—the anatomical characteristics of males and females. However, the human's study showed the mermen were larger, strong and capable of changing their tail and fins for legs and feet, where they could fight and win on the land. Mermaids were characterized as being thinner and more delicate looking, with longer claws and were able to become sirens by luring men—through their angelic singing—to a water death and then consuming them.

They even deduced how best to kill the creatures: using the claws and teeth of their dead against them. Their studies evened the war, but because the humans outnumbered the merpeople, the mer were driven to the depths of the oceans after being hunted almost to extinction.  

Now, nearly a century after the humans declared victory against the once great merpeople, a live mer is considered a great treasure, only to be had by the best of pirate captains. Though, there are rumors of a band of once great pirates who fell in love with their mer prize and disappeared into the water, thus, the pursuit of a mer is only to be taken up by the strong willed or most cruel.

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Timothy Drake is the captain of the fearsome Robin, known for its speed and the brutal efficiency of its master. His first mate is one Richard Grayson, an orphaned gypsy man who was taken in at a young age by the previous captain of the Robin, Bruce "The Unseen" Wayne, known for sneaking up on ships in the dead of night and pillaging them before their crew had the chance to fight back. Timothy himself had been taken in by the menacing man after a dispute between Captain Wayne and Timothy's father Capitan Drake had left Timothy orphan at a young age.

Richard was an excellent crew member, expected to be the next captain, but he refused when Captain Wayne set off with his treasure. Even still, Captain Drake tried to do right by his friend, even going so far as to accept the infuriating, insubordinate leech that is Damian al Ghul, the once prize heir of the al Ghul naval fleet, when Richard requested permission for him to board.

In hind sight, it should not have been a surprise. Ever since Damian showed up, he refused to take orders from Tim, challenging him, trying to make him appear weak in front of the rest of the crew. What Timothy will never understand is why Richard helped with such a betrayal.

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It was stormy night, the water choppy and jarring. A bad omen for any captain; all the more reason to lock your door and make a show of force come morning, after all, no one would try anything or risk being left in the water. Normally, no pirate would truly fear such a threat, self-confident enough to believe they could make it to the nearest island.  

However, the island in question is one that no pirate—no person, whoever they may be—would encroach upon. This particular island, only about two klicks away, was said to house the fearsome Deadly Hunt, a mythic merman. The Deadly Hunt was infamous for his brutality, said to be twice the size of the average merman—who are already much larger than humans—with the strength of ten men and the temper to match. Every ship who has passed too close to the island has sunk, with only floating and detritus the odd body part here and there to tell the story of the fallen.  

Most ships avoided the area, uncertain of how far out the hunter would travel from his island for a fresh meal of man. In fact, The Robin was only so close because of a failing on the part of his First Mate during the worst part of the storm that made the water so harsh.  

Captain Drake was headed off to his quarters since the worst of the storm was behind them and the still cloudy sky was losing the faint glow of the sun. As he opened the door to his quarters, Damian appeared, slamming his hand over wood, causing an eerie groan to roll through the deck. The fight was embarrassingly short after Damian pulled out his pistol. A few shots going wide, hitting the water or splintering pieces of the deck and knocking them into the churning black depth below. The last thing Timothy remember is Richard behind him, apologize and the a forceful blow and swirling black.  

Captain Drake—well now only Timothy—loses time, dragging himself to consciousness long enough to grab the deck railing floating nearby. He swears he catches a glimpse of a sleek, dark shape in the water and a fin in the distance, but he can no longer hold onto consciousness.

Timothy wakes up some time later, half buried in the sand, head throbbing from the crack to his skull, with a headache only worsened from the bright glare of the hot sun beating down on the water. He digs himself out of the sand with care, mind slow, but still working out a plan for survival and escape when feasible.

Inland, there are trees for shelter, which also hit at some sort of fresh water.  However, there is also likely to be predators, and if the Deadly Hunt is real, he would probably be near whatever water source—if any—leads directly to the ocean. The broken masts and rotting remains of decks that can be seen around the jagged rocks just off shore support the possibility of the Deadly Hunt being real. Or at least some sort of deadly water-based predator with enough intelligence and strength to destroy an old warship—judging by the size and shape of the most prominent mast.

Timothy has just managed to drag himself to the cover of a palm tree when he hears a growling noise—human, but deep and threatening—behind him. “Get the fuck off my island.” The voice demands. “I don’t take kindly to your kind, human.”

Stiff and stoically hiding his fear, Timothy turns to face a very—attractive—angry man. Tall, over six foot, broad and thick, dark hair and light eyes, toned and tanned with a patchwork of thin white scars. Timothy jolts at the renewed growling, trying not to cower from the bared teeth and the growing snarl. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Timothy notes the blood gushing from a hole in the man’s leg—he stands precariously balanced to look menacing without putting too much pressure on it; Timothy is also mentally impressed at the man’s ability to move so quietly when he must be limping badly—and the hand, covered in blood, clutching at his side.  

“Are you an unfortunate, human? A waste of space and time? Is that why you were thrown overboard as my next meal?” The man snarl as if accusations, despite being phrased as questions.

Timothy’s brain seems to finally catch up with what the man—the merman!—is saying. “You’re the Deadly Hunt. You’re real?” he breathes, equal parts wonder and skepticism.  

“Is that what the humans are calling me now,” the Hunter smirks, “you couldn’t come up with something better than that?”

“You’re giving me the chance to leave? I thought you killed everyone who came too close to your island?” Timothy questions, silently cursing himself for reminding the vicious predator of his reputation rather than accepting his generosity and leaving.  

The merman snorted a laugh, “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry. I’m sure the sharks will get to you before anyone else.” With that said, the merman spun on the heel of his good leg and began walking—rather well for someone with a pistol shot to one leg—farther inland.  

Timothy scrambled to his feet, ignored how it made his head start throbbing again. “Wait!” he called. “I don’t want to be eaten by shark. I can…umm” The arched eyebrow he got on response was both a disconcertingly human reaction and terrifying. “I can help with that—those. I can patch you up.”

In the blink of an eye, the merman hand a hand around Timothy’s throat, squeezing lightly, with teeth only a breath away from his face. “And why,” he growled, “pray tell, would I let you, human, anywhere near my wounds. Especially,” he shoved Timothy harder into the tree trunk and squeezing harder, “when this is your fault, Captain Drake.”

“I’m not—“ Timothy choked. “Not Captain… Anymore.”

The merman barked out a harsh laugh. “Mutiny aboard your ship caused this. I really should feed you to the sharks.” He hummed. “Maybe I’ll tear you to pieces for the little fish to eat.”

Tim wouldn’t call them friend exactly, but he’s still in one piece and the merman only threatens his every few days. It’s been months and it seems the only way off this island safely would be the merman, if one could count that as safe.  

It’s been nearly a month, and Tim—as he had requested to be called, now that he’s no longer a marauder deserving of respect—has warmed up to the merman.  

“So,” Tim says carefully, checking the makeshift bandages wrapping the merman’s leg, “you never did tell me what you call you.”

The merman growls, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have one of your human names. You are undeserving of knowing, let alone speaking my true name—“

“And if I call you the Deadly Hunt one more time, I’ll wake up missing an important part of my anatomy. I know. Although, I’m starting to not believe you. I thought a merman would want to be in mer form. Wouldn’t it be better for the gunshot if you didn’t have legs. Also, does that mean I get to name you?”

The merman—Tim is thinking Jacob or Jordan—snarls at being interrupted. “My tail, while infinitely more muscular and powerful, would be more difficult to heal because of the location of the wound. There would be significant tissue damage that is avoided by having the wound heal on the inner thigh of a leg rather than the center of my tail.”

“I’m thinking I’ll dub you Jason. Wait. Are you telling me you can’t transform!” Tim shrieks.  

Jason growls, deeper and more terrifying than he has been in a couple weeks. “I can transform! It would simplly be unwise. But I do not need my tail to rip you to shreds, human!”

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you. Just wanted to know more about you. I mean, we’re stranded on this island, might as well be friends.” Tim sighed.  

“We” Jason says, motioning with a claw tipped finger—a sure sign Tim has pissed him off if his body is prepping for a fight —between himself and Tim, “are not friends.” Tim can see how well he’s healed from the lack of tension in Jason’s body as he marches off to wherever he goes.  

“So,” Tim starts, feet dangling, toes just brushing the surface of the lake, causing small ripples that he intently watches crash into Jason’s naked torso, “you’re all better. Transforming and everything. Guess that means it’s time to part ways.”

Jason hums softly from where he’s laying half-in half-out of the water, warming in the sun, head pillowed on his hands. “This is my island. I’m not giving it to you.”

“I know. Just… you always say that you are going to get rid of me the first chance you get. And now you can take me away.” Tim was irrationally sad that Jason hadn’t asked him to stay—not that he could, it’s been nearly three months, people had to be worried. Not to mention, Damian and Dick had to be punished for how they wronged Tim.  

“I’ve been trying to get rid of you for months and now you want me to be your glorified boat. How undignified.” Tim could see his face, but he could imagine Jason’s special brand of amused disgust, that tone and face have been pointed at him often enough.  

“Well, I haven’t changed my mind about being eaten by sharks, so…”

Jason cracked once sea-foam green eye to look at Tim. “I guess. I can’t exactly let my—“

Tim smiled. “Say it!”

“—friend get eaten, or drown because he doesn’t swim well.”

“Gee, thanks Jay. And I’ll have you know, I’m a great swimmer.” That got both those beautiful eyes, and that handsome face pointed in his direction. The quirked eyebrow though… “You’re half fish. That’s not even a fair comparison.”

Jason snorted a laugh, returning his head to its previous position “Fine. We’ll leave tomorrow. I’m quite comfortable right now.”

Tim smiled softly, somewhat sad. He’d miss Jason. They would probably never see each other again.  

It’s been almost six months since Jason dropped Tim of in the water just off shore of the first populated land they found. Tim—Captain Drake once again—misses him dearly. It’s irrational. They are completely different species, both male—well Jason is as male a merpeople get, anyway—and they only became friends, reluctantly on Jason’s part, because they were stuck on an island together.  

Tim thinks he might have fallen in love on that island. But that makes no sense: you can barely forge a good friendship in that short of time, you can’t fall in love. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.  

It only takes Tim another two months to finish implementing his plan. Damian and Dick go down hard, losing all respect—pirate and military alike.

The first thing Tim does, after watching Damian and Dick go down in flames, is take back his ship. Second, he picks up a few friends—Steph and Cass, two terrifying women spurned by society for their relationship; Bart, a restless and clumsy, but incredibly loyal friend; and Connor and Cassie, amazing friends rumored to be half mer, though that is said to be biologically impossible. And third, set a course for his new home: the one island no human is stupid enough to set foot on.  

The voyage takes longer than Tim remembers. However, it’s nice to be on the water again, even better to have a crew be trust to have his back.  

When they finally reach there destination, they set anchor and Tim rows to shore alone. The island is just as big and beautiful as he remembers, but he’s looking for something more amazing at the moment.  

“I thought I told you to get off my island, Captain Drake.”

Tim simultaneously jumps and turns, only stumbling a little, and not at all surprised Jason snuck up on him and is caught up on current events. Tim allows himself to stare at Jason’s ridiculously beautiful, smirking face for about two second before he lunges. Tm wraps his arms around Jason necks, molds himself to Jason’s scarcely clad body and kisses him with nearly a years worth of pent up passion. Tim sighs softly and breaks the kiss only when Jason chuckles and rests his own hands on Tim’s waist.