#mermaid inspiration month

[myfashionburden]

iris van herpen 2023 ~ carte blanche

[coolcoolcoolbutwtf]

Giant green mermaid terrorize assassins by kidnapping their boss pt1 next

"Was that a fucking giant ass ghost mermaid?" Red hood shifted himself while his tried rasps sounded through the helmet. The gravel below him crunching slightly when he once again looked over the rock. Before quickly ducking again when a piece of the pier hot thrown above them. The Screams of assassins and the remains the former planks of the destroy pier getting smashed. No matter how funny it was to watch his brothers argue he would rather keep his eyes on the green fish creature.

"Tt Yes, yes todd that is a "giant ass ghost mermaid" as you put it." Robin snarky commented while also taking cover. Ducking every so often to avoid any of the debris that was getting thrown.

"And Talia wants us to do what exactly about it?"

"Todd my mother asked for me and father not the rest of you for assistance." Damian leveled a scathing glare at Red hood while he practically hissed at him.

"Well you know the rules about the Loa and the pits. Plus the report didn't say anything about a huge ghost mermaid thing chilling about in the green pool of death just that this was supposed to be a rescue mission. But we haven't been given any as to who we are rescuing and what the giant green mermaid has to do with it."

"Unfortunately Nightwing I think I just found out who the bastard we need to help rescue is." The small collection of bats and Birds turned to Red Robin who while the rest squabbled had spotted something strange.

On the giant green mermaid creatures left arm ware streams of blood. When looking down at the creatures hand a bloody body was being gripped. Or more correctly crushed.

Tim also noticed something rather odd. Well odd for a supposedly bloodthirsty mindless creature, that is. Whenever the bloody bastard that was being crushed stopped moving the mermaid would purposely dunk its left hand in the Lazarus pits and wait.

It would pull its hand out the bastard breathing once again. Then start squeezing again more blood leaking down until starting the process again.

Between destroying what was left of the pier and batting away any assassins like they were pesky flies. The creature had some sort of intellect the fact that the huge mermaid was wearing some type of translucent chest covering and jewelry dangling. Seashells covering pectorals without any fastenings just sticking on. A giant black sunken pearl slightly above the pectorals gleamed.

And no Tim was not going to take any criticism about where he focused most of his observations on. Like come on their practically bare for the world to see! So what if he was just slightly attracted to the giant green mermaid crushing someone?

The bastard being tortured being who he was is definitely a plus in Red Robin's books.

And to be fair. The giant mermaid was a total babe even while ranging.

"Oi replacement! Who is it?" Nightwing gave Red robin a nudge when Hood whisper yelled at him.

"Ra's Al ghul." A collective of surprise whispers echoed in their little hiding spot. Damian denial loudest of them all.

"Drake I know you are inan but even you should know that joking about my grandfather being the victim getting tortured is impossible."

" Check for yourself then." Tim snapped right back simply handing Robin the bat binoculars and waited. Damian huffed and checked for himself because clearly it couldn't be his grandfather.

•

•

•

"That is indeed my grandfather" it was in fact his grandfather. The demon head himself. Getting crushed bloody. By a giant green ghost mermaid.

Damn. Timothy was right.

[bumblewish]

A Rivulet for Day 1 of Art Month 2024

[cpyclopse]

I'm almost 5 hours late but here's my MerMay contribution!

The leopard shark girl is actually from a mermay a couple years ago!

[My Art]

[fredgar]

plenty of other fish in the sea

[ghostgrem]

I post these on insta and it’s almost terribly obvious Heartbreak studio don’t like them so I spread my artness to tumblr, bc even if I don’t get 3rd place for the dtiy, I still learned a lot while making the fanart 😌

One more for pride month, *finger guns in your general direction*

[nixie-deangel]

I'm really thinking about buying myself more crochet hooks....I don't need them but damn if the urge to treat myself to them isn't strong this morning...

[purplemoonabove]

Best way to start of Pride Month? Watch The Little Mermaid.

You know, that story about a girl who wants to know more about a world that she’s forbidden to be a part of, but when after rescuing a life opposite to hers and wanting to take the chance to go further lengths in becoming part of the new world, she would do anything to get it, even for a price?

Kind of familiar to you? In a personal sense?

It should. Since this story, from what I gathered by an outside source, was based of an idea, a love between two men. One who fell in love with another, but have a forbidden, one-sided love — separated by two worlds. (Hint. Hint.) Hence the mermaid idea – or in this case, merman.

Not to mention that composers of the community were actually placing their own emotions into the songs here in the film, as well in Beauty and the Beast from what I gathered from a previous video, increasing the point. (I forgot the title but I know it involves an analyzation of the Webtoons comic, Boyfriends, on how it sucked.)

But it’s a lot more than that.

At least to me, personally — it’s not just learning of a new world, it’s also learning a new world of yourself:

Being stuck “under the sea” (your comfort zone) all your life.

Wanting to be “part of that world” (doing things that benefits you than for others).

Going out to do anything for your “poor unfortunate soul” (taking a dead-end job for payments; dealing with declines and loss; stressing out to be perfect which can also take a lot of your health)…

Funny how I realized the latter point after seeing it again today.

No wonder I cried during Halle’s Part of Your World. It wasn’t just the voice, which I totally admire and love, mind you.

Being a writer means I need to read. Choosing to read expands my mind. Expanding my mind helps me understand things quicker, not just in vocabulary. And from listening to the lyrics, it wasn’t just Ariel’s story wanting to be in the human world — it’s for all of us, wanting to live the lives we want.

I love the animated film, as it is the reason why this life-action happened. But the live-action went a lot deep. For everyone, not just the children of today.

I went to the movies after work to see again, just to fulfill my happiness on loving it so much. Now, it gave me purpose. Realization. Understanding for myself and what I want now that I’m an adult.

I’m truly thankful for this film.

I’m gonna cry twice every time I watch it—no lie. Happened the first time; happened again today, and at the same moments 😂

And it’s just became a new inspiration for me: I want to be part of my world – the world of becoming a writer, an author, to my own storytelling, to share and love with others no matter how big or small. And despite how much it would cost me, I know it’ll be worth it in the end.

I hope the same feelings goes out to anyone reading this. Happy Pride Month, and I hope you’ll be part of your own worlds, too 😊❤️

[soft-spooks]

my fos think i look sooooo hot in a wetsuit (<< manifesting)

[megarywrites]

Day 15 - 30 Line challenge

posting now in case i don't write more before i head into work. this is a new location and I've been mulling over how to describe it, and this is what I have so far

A naturally-hewn archway opened out into a deep bowl-like valley, the dark crags of the stone nearly obliterated by the blanket of coral covering the walls. Rose-shaped corals, bright pink and fanning out wider than the span of my arms, pale yellow bushes with gently swaying tendrils, clusters of spikes cover in a lilac or deep red crust, pillowy mounds of soft blue that were covered with a labyrinthine design. Fish roamed freely, crustaceans skittered over surfaces or into the crevices between, sea caterpillars sat perched on the edges of some of the flatter coral, and five-pointed creatures I had only seen dried up on the shores of Psari crawled around like spiders.  “I had forgotten how much it reminded me of the Gava,” Solera said, drawing my attention away from the slow progression of the pinkish-orange five-pointed creature that had caught my eye. “The shape of it, you know?”  “That, or the court inside Katania.”  Her expression fell when I looked over at her. Memories of atrocities she had seen there must have been flashing behind her eyes, too. Of crushed hands and wrenched-out tongues and burning corpses.  I propelled myself forward a little so I could look up to where the bowl extended past our heads. All thoughts of Katania were dispelled by the sight of a herd of sharks circling just above where the rock wall ended.

[myfashionburden]

iris van herpen 2023 ~ carte blanche

[loish]

For last month’s patreon challenge, I made some studies of underwater scenes. And everyone knows that underwater is the natural habitat of mermaids, so I had to add a mermaid to this study. You know, for accuracy!!

If you want to join this month’s challenge, I just posted it over on Patreon! You’ll get reference images, inspiration, and resources to help you on your way. Head on over to my patreon page and sign up to the flame tier to participate: https://www.patreon.com/loish

[gamemakerm]

In honor of Mermay and the current trend of Animal/Therian HRT going around (inspired by @ayviedoesthings's Dragon HRT series, @welldrawnfish's Fish HRT, @kaylasartwork's Bat HRT, @nyxisart's Puppy HRT, @deadeyedfae's Human HRT, etc etc etc, love all your work), I wanted to share the short story I wrote last year about medically turning yourself into a mermaid. This got published in WriteHive's Reclaiming Joy anthology, and we're now just outside of the six-month publishing exclusivity, so I can make it publicly available.

This was really raw to write for me, and there are trigger warnings for transphobia(/whatever the equivalent would be for mermaids?), implications of violence and hate crimes. However all the stories in the anthology were ultimately about perseverance, courage and love. I hope you enjoy, and if you want to get this and eleven other uplifting stories I can't recommend the anthology enough (though this is the only one relevant to the tags as far as I know). And if you really, really like it, you can buy me a kofi!

Scales

When the scales began to break through skin, they said you were becoming a monster. Blue and green, seafoam to pearl. You weren’t certain at what point you started to believe them.

You began to wrap yourself in tighter layers, a futile effort not to draw attention to the rough patches. Elbows, knees, along your arms, mottled with foundation and concealer caked on like spackle. Toner to offset the iridescent shine so that a passing glance wouldn’t be drawn to it. Constant checks and double checks, bathroom visits far beyond the routine. 

Your careful camouflage is usually enough to deflect scrutiny, but occasionally a stranger catches on. Nobody has said anything to you yet, but you have noticed more glances on the train. The old woman’s frown of disapproval. The young man with something to prove to you, himself, the world. His jaw tightens as he calculates his ability to start something. You tuck your chin and pretend to be busy with your phone. In the dark screen you can see the skin flaking on your cheeks. The beginnings of another patch betray you.

As you touch up in the bathroom mirror you tell yourself you wanted this, that you were prepared for the hardships. 

You walk to the public library after your shift ends. You walk most places these days, telling yourself it’s a last hurrah. The fact is you sold your car to make a dent in the cost. You’ll sell everything eventually. You’re going to have to. 

The forums have a list of books everyone checks out when they choose this path. There aren’t many and most are fantasy. There’s a running joke: if anyone mentions Hans Christen Anderson, run. You spot The Little Mermaid on a small display. You don’t run. You check out your books. The librarian gives a knowing nod, but doesn’t remark. You silently thank her for the discretion.

You take a long shower, makeup swirling down the drain. You can’t help but scratch at the itching patches on your thighs, peeling skin tearing away for new growth. Shampoo and blood circle under your feet. Your fingernails are sharper than they were this morning. You exfoliate, letting the city, public transit, the glances of strangers be cleansed. Your reflection in the mirror, a colorful smattering of new scales dusting your cheeks, is tear-streaked, ethereal. Beautiful.

You knock the concealer into the trash bin.

Your mother left a voicemail. She avoids the elephant seal in the room, talking about her gardening, your cousin’s new baby. She lingers for a moment, then: You’re being selfish. She burns brightly as a beratement begins, emboldened. But without someone to riff with she loses her steam, trails off and repeats it. You’re being shellfish. She can’t help it; she laughs despite herself. There’s a minute where she doesn’t speak, but you can tell she’s waiting for the sob in the back of her throat to settle. She promises she’ll come to your party and the voicemail ends.

You still haven’t heard from your father. You don’t expect you will. You’ve made peace with that.

You do your weekly injection on the alternating leg, needle piercing deep in a gap between scales. The plunger delivers 200mg of concentrated hope directly into your bloodstream, salt water in salt water. You put a hello kitty bandaid over it and wait for the feeling of ice in your veins to settle, the tension to go out of your muscles. It doesn’t.

You pass an enraged man on the street, spit flying, a home-made sandwich board making his message clear: The Siren Is The Devil’s Agent. The back offers an equally cogent argument: Go Back To Atlantis, Fish Freaks. You would if you could, you think dryly. He notices you and seethes, but the current of the crowd carries you away before he can curse you out.

You drag your potted plants down to the front stoop and post a craigslist ad: free to a good home. They’re gone within the hour. You allow yourself the rare indulgence of posting a selfie, eyes closed, serene, to the reddit: Learning to love my scales <3! It’s still difficult to type on your phone with the new claws. The upvotes start to come in; everyone loves a guppie.

You catch up on the shows you haven’t gotten to yet. Where there was once only the metaphorical List, there is now an actual list. Despite your best efforts it’s becoming increasingly clear you’re not going to finish all of them. You knock a few off, restructure it based on length. It still looks too long.

You have dreams about choking on toxic waste, getting minced by a boat propeller. You keep a running count of the number of times you’ve dreamt of getting your head stuck in a six-pack of soda rings. You’re up to four. 

Every few days you do laps in the local pool. You’re getting faster, but you feel exposed. There are whispers around the locker room. 

Your cat knows something is happening, but doesn’t understand what that means for her. You hold her whenever and for as long as she’ll allow, give her as many pets and treats as she wants. Despite clearing out your apartment you’ve spoiled her. She licks the scales on your cheek as you cry over her. This seems to inspire something in her; she demands her tuna crunchies. Dutifully you give her the tuna crunchies. She can have as many tuna crunchies as she wants.

You doomscroll your twitter feed, making sure this isn’t the day you lose access to your meds because of some white man in a suit. A sister is assaulted by a violent extremist with a sense of humor: he shot her with a harpoon gun. Her crowdfunding campaign starts on the maidens reddit and goes viral.

You triple check to make sure your friend is still willing to take your cat when you go. They promise to spoil her and tell her stories of you every day. You continue to cry over it. They invite you out for sushi to talk about it, then backtrack to ask if that’s a microaggression. You go to sushi. You’re thankful for the distraction.

By the time your legs are more scale than skin and your fingers begin to develop webbing you’ve given up on pretense. The looks are now constant, but you get reflective sunglasses and a new patch for your jacket: Don’t like it? Drown, with a scaled hand reaching out of water and flipping the bird. You put the energy out into the world, and the world doesn’t fuck with you.

Children love you. Their parents do not. 

On the train a young girl quietly asks if she can feel your scales. You allow her to touch her little fingers to the aquamarine pattern running up your arm, giving her your most reassuring (but still fanged) smile. She’s fearless, enamored, reverent. Her mother pulls her daughter away and hastily apologizes for her, not looking you in the eye. But you know that girl believes in magic now.

A group of white supremacists go out on a boat loaded with assault rifles for “no reason” and get lost at sea. This is somehow your fault.

The day your fins begin to push their way out from your arms, your boss calls you into his office. You both know he can’t fire you in this and seven other states, but you both also know you won’t be staying much longer. He’s done his best to make you aware you’re making his life more difficult. You put in your two weeks before he can flounder for another excuse. He moors you with paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.

Someone leaves a rotting fish in your pool locker. You don’t go back, and you don’t file a report. You tell yourself the chlorine was bad for the gills freshly forming under your ribs anyway.

Your friends take you out clubbing. You lose yourself under the waves of music, submerged under strobe lights and the salty sweat of dancing bodies. You whisper sweet nothings into a stranger’s ear, entrancing her as you move against each other. You can see iridescence shining around her eyes, shimmering glitter and an emerging pattern beneath makeup. You brush a thumb against her cheek and she melts into your touch. You don’t get her name. You don’t need to; you’re both not long for this world. You catch up with your friends smoking outside, your lips still tingling with vermouth.

Weeks pass. Work ends. Your apartment is down to furniture and cat supplies. You take longer showers. News stories continue to come out, the machine churns and roils: monsters walking among humans, the mark of the beast, sacrificing daughters to the ocean. 

You make sure your meds are reupped for the final stretch.

When your legs start to merge you know you don’t have much time left. You donate the last boxes of your clothes. Your friends get first dibs on furniture before it’s put on the street. They bring drinks and sit on your floor, an impromptu celebration and wake. They ask all the usual questions: what are you going to do for food? Shelter? What if you get hurt, or attacked by a shark? Do they have waterproof laptops yet? Will they ever see you again? What if it isn’t right for you? Can you ever come back?

You don’t know how to answer most of those questions. The group stays with you through the night. At 4AM you put on The Little Mermaid and the group drunkenly sings along. Everyone knows the words. It’s juvenile and you can hear the maidens on the reddit rolling their eyes and tutting about misrepresentation, but you know everyone in your position does it. You try not to cry, but the waterworks start and don’t stop.

At daybreak you put your cat into her harness and everyone piles into a friend’s van. It’s not far to the beach, but they take the long way around. One final tour of the land. Your cat sits on your lap and stares out the windows as you pass old haunts, your grocery store, your gym, your high school. You realize you still have library books to return and almost get them to turn around, but someone promises to go back for them afterwards.

There’s an isolated area on the beach where a canopy and tables are set up; banners, food, friends. It’s a regular going away party, as if you’re going on a short trip abroad. You suppose you are, in a way. Someone rented a wheelchair with fat tires to help you get down to the beach.

When your mother arrives she pulls her shirt off to show her custom-made clam bra. Her eyes are already red and puffy, but she’s doing her best to be energetic and upbeat. She holds you for a long time and says she’s happy for you, that you’re beautiful, that you’re so much stronger than she ever was, and then she puts on a brave face to help everyone get served at the buffet. Your cat chases small crabs across the beach around you, and you sit in the sand. The party goes strong.

The tides come up until your fin is tickled by the seafoam. Everyone knows that means it’s time to go. You pass your cat off to her new owner and she gives you a last headbutt. She seems to understand. You kiss your mother’s cheek one last time and she clings to you. The group raises their drinks as you paddle out, disappearing beneath the waves. You give them the money shot and leap out of the water on your way out of the sound, and you can hear cheering from the shoreline. You hope someone got a video for the maidens.

You keep the city in sight for a while, but the currents lead you further into open waters. There are boaters out on the water who wave to you. You wave back and keep swimming up the coast. 

At dusk you rise to the surface and watch the setting sun turn the horizon from blue to pink to purple and orange. There’s nothing for leagues around. As the sun sinks below the waves and the skies darken you sing your first real siren’s song. Shaky and imperfect, it soon resounds over the ocean breeze. You leave everything behind in it. There are no words, only feeling and sound. It’s a lament, an invocation, a dirge. It is many things, but it isn’t an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.

In the seas beyond a chorus joins in with a language you never learned but understand, integrating your song into theirs. You swim to join them.

[shirecorn]

I need money. Do you need mermaids?

I am self employed, and my favorite way to make money is when people fund whatever I'm hyperfixating on. This month is mermaids.

If you have a specific fish you want to see mermified in my style, please let me know above!

If you don't know any cool fish, I made a guide to discover them here!

You can request non-fish aquatic creatures! Pinnipeds will be selkies, Cetaceans will be mammalers, and arthropods will be Fairies (tiny humanoid magical creatures) that happen to come in aquatic flavors. Anything else, I will still draw but they won't be canon to @worldofvonder

[thesamoanqueen]

Bimini Dream

A/N: When I wrote it the mood was completely different, it was an inspiration born from a friend suggestion, but seemed correct to me wait before posting it. It has nothing to do with what happened and I won't write anything about it for the same reason I haven't published this story until today, Roman is a character/Joe a real human being and there's a big difference for me. Breaks are useful to understand what our priorities are, unfortunately life is not always a dream or a vacation, but we all should appreciate what we have.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, 18+ Inspired by Naked - Doja Cat

Giving up his spot hadn't been what he imagined, what he had prepared himself for. It had been difficult, exhausting, even more so after the first few weeks. Four years had the ability to make everything a habit and when the time for big projects had arrived, the impulse had still been to be present no matter what had happened. Your relationship had been put to the test. Roman had seen you angry, frustrated, disappointed even, troubles in paradise that Roman didn't want and risked taking away more than a belt from him. You wanted the best for him, the best for the new chapter of his, your, life together and he couldn't get it with old habits, you were right, as always. So he had learned to control from afar, focusing on the next project, without answering every call or request that didn't personally concern the work he had pending. Months had passed, a time in his mind that was confused, short and even endless, but the well-deserved vacation had finally arrived. Not a one-day break between filming, interviews and meetings for new projects, a real vacation with his woman.

A paradise for the two of you. Made of palm trees and crystal water, fresh sheets and feet sinking into the damp sand of a private club in Bimini. Days spent away from chaos getting drunk and kissing, caresses and massages to take away the memory of punches and bruises, your laugh in his ears at all hours. You were happy and carefree like a lil girl again and Roman was unable to take his eyes off you in those moments, sure of wanting this for your entire life together.

His eyes scanned you, as you slipped out of the sundress just beyond the threshold of the private area, your thong bikini to greet him provocatively between soft curves dirty with sand and salt. The sound of a song hummed all the way to the dining room table to grab some fruit and disappear onto the balcony overlooking the beach. Just the time to get a drink for himself and attracted like a sailor by his mermaid, Roman followed you out, sitting on the sofa to enjoy the show you were delighting him with. The wavy movement of your hips is hypnotic, the water sliding between your barely covered breasts is an invitation as dangerous as your fingers, busy washing a day of snorkeling off your skin. The taste of fruit and alcohol on his tongue unable to wash away his thrist and your eyes finally finding him, as bright as the familiar smile forming on your lips.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?" – he hears you ask, continuing to massage your thighs.

- "You' enjoying yourself"

It wasn't a question, but pure pride, the reward for his efforts. He would have given you anything if you had only asked, spoiling to the point of forcing you to say enough, his absolute priority was you, the pulsating engine of his continuous success. He couldn't have looked at you any other way than with adoration, gratitude. Always there for him, always ready to support and push him.

- "I’d have more fun if you came to keep me company" – you mutter, a playful pout and a hand reaching out to call him.

And how could Roman say no to you? He didn't want to, he had never been capable of doing so, and putting down the drink, he freed himself from his tank top to join you under the cool water of the shower, his hands quickly finding your body, those curves where his muscles fit like a puzzle to reveal the rough skin under his fingers.

- "You're still covered in sand" – he notices, cleaning you carefully, while you lean forward, filling the space between you two until your breaths mix.

- "Nope, it's brown sugar scrub, you wanna taste it?"

A whispered offer, almost a secret, even though you already knew his answer. He had always been a hungry man, but you awoke a feverish need in him, the urgency to consume you and be consumed furiously as soon as your eyes met in a complicit silence.

- "Mmh you keep testing me" – he noted, placing an innocent kiss on your nose, already feeling your fingers free him from the bun and copy with a real kiss.

Flavor of mango and dragonfruit surrounds him, an inviting aftertaste when your teeth bite into him slowly, eliciting a dangerous moan from him that makes you smile devilishly, drawing Roman even further under the water. His hands stop you, gripping your round hips, dark locks dripping onto your breasts. The silence of the empty beach not far from you two, now filled by the sound of close breaths, growing tension making Roman’s muscles tense and your core soften.

- "‘cause you’re too good" – fingers caressing his broad chest, running your nails over the shiny tattoo up to his broad shoulders, to lock behind his neck – "now can we get naked?" – you finally ask.

The new offer is not a secret nor whisper, there was nothing playful about it, just pure desire and Roman is a good man, but sure not a saint, so he grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head, watching in admiration as your breathing stops for a moment already, a silent moan for his sudden commanding behavior leaving your honey lips.

- "Strip for me babygirl, slow, show me first" – he orders against your ear, licking away his own words before taking a step back, just one and enjoying the show.

Your hands leave him sadly, but you obey, moving your wet hair from your shoulder to play with the thin string holding up your colorful bikini top. You pull it down, slowly, stretching the fabric until the bow comes undone and Roman watches it fall at your feet like anyone should have. He follows your fingers caress from your collarbones to your breasts, full and perfect for his hands and passes one over his face, moving away his hair, while yours slide down the belly he loves to kiss down to what he loves to eat. Bimini had its own fountain of eternal youth, Roman's was there between your soft thighs, always ready to welcome him, juicy and tasty like the fruit you wrapped your lips around every day for breakfast. He watches you turn, eye over your shoulder and crouch down to take off your thong, leaving it to keep company to the top. When you get up Roman can't hold back a sound of approval, eyes glued to the two brown hills that you rub on his already hard boner, and then turn around and caress him.

- "Why you keep standing there? Don't you want to slip into something more pleasant?" – your body presses against his, breasts tickling his muscles - "… maybe me?" – you invite him and his mouth finds yours without waiting a second more.

Neither of you tries to go easy, you kiss without haste, but consuming each other, cool water sliding on your heated bodies like Roman's tongue on yours. You suck on his lips as he maneuvers you to have total control and you let him do it, abandoning yourself against the wall to free him from the swimsuit he kept on for your day together. Roman kicks it away without care, growling hoarsely into your mouth as he feel you gripping his dick in your hands, torturing the head with a soft thumb until he break the kiss with a heated moan. He presses his forehead to yours, letting you prepare him, your mouth trailing kisses down his neck and shoulders, biting into sun-tanned skin and licking away water drop by drop.

- "There's no where else I'd rather be" – he squeezes your hip, smashing his other hand against the wall, your nipples rubbing against his chest and you smile.

- "I love how you look at me… makes me feel so special" - you meow against his mouth and it's enough to make him snap.

Oh, special would be an understatement to describe you.

Roman lifts you up effortlessly, his large hands on your round ass, letting your legs wrap around his hips like a belt. He would have gladly worn you for the rest of his days, anywhere, without shame if only it were possible, sinking into your soft folds sweeter than any victory. He watches as you throw your head back, shaken by the pleasure that hits both of you in finding each other and he takes the opportunity to suck your neck, giving a couple of lazy thrusts, to spread you and savor the spasms of your center that gets used to the presence of him. Your arms hold him, lips ready to cover him with soft kisses on his temples and freckles, fingers laced in the dark locks of his hair to pull them, make him growl and guide him to you.

His attentions will leave a mark on you, but neither of you cares. You have nothing to hide, you belong to each other and you both show it with pride. No one will pass by that beach, Roman had paid good money for your paradise and he didn't regret it at all. Everything to make you smile.

- " nhm… you're getting wet as fuck" – he hums, adjusting his posture to increase the pace.

His hips become more commanding as he feels you give in and with his face buried between your breasts, he works you without going all the way, spending his time playing your nipples, devouring and licking the sensitive flesh to reduce you to a gorgeous panting mess. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, onto his shoulders, your head resting on him, almost a hug, bodies impossible to separate and on his tongue that aftertaste of brown sugar.

- "R-Ro… ahn, keep doing that" – you moan, holding him against you.

His name belongs in your throat like a jewel, the kind of gift no one else could give you because only Roman knows what you need to satiate your thirst, what touch makes your body shivers and what is needed for a lovely bow. He grins, he knows not going deep makes you even more needy, he feels your heart hammering like the water falling at his feet, your moods dirtying his hard cock. Then he stops torturing your breasts, letting your body slide a little further down and the moan with which you delight his ears feeling him entirely Roman swallows it as he kisses you. Squeezed between the wall and his massive body, with no chance of escaping him, he moves an arm under your thigh to a new angle that makes you scream with the first thrust.

- "Hm, it's so g-good… God… more- more-" you beg, your gaze liquid, lips swollen.

- "I own this pretty pussy, hmm is mine. I know how to make her sing…" - he growls, pushing himself between your folds until you throb.

A satisfied smile spreads uncontrollably on his face, pride, possession, desire, love, a mixture in his guts that burns where your bodies are united and from which Roman cannot take his eyes off, mesmerized by the sight of your honey spread all over his flesh now that you are stretched to perfection. He watches your walls suck him in, clinging to the veins on his skin, hips moving incessantly, while your pleas become louder in his ears increasingly dizzy with growing pleasure.

- "P-please… Ro… there" – he knows where you want it, he knows what he has to do to see you faint in to his arms.

And he hits that spot, without mercy, giving you what you want, focusing on that weak point able of making you breathless and driving him to madness. The spasms of your body, soaked and panting, are shocks inducting him into a sort of competitive trance, his hands hooked at your side, at that thigh bent almost to his shoulder to have complete access to your core. You tremble, his flesh swelling your center every time he pushes into you, making him growl excitedly, sight matching the furious sensation of the now imminent climax. Your moans become strangled cries and then Roman shifts his gaze to your face, to intercept your almost desperate expression, the one that always anticipates your orgasm. When it finally arrives, he feels your nails digging into the flesh of his forearms and your voice fades into a delicious cry, he kisses you, hammering your sweetest spot without stopping for a second and he watches with pleasure the violent tremors of your body.

- "My precious girl… cum, you're so f-fuckin gorgeous" – he growls obscenely against your lips, seeing you open your eyes again with a lost expression, your hips swinging to meet his thrusts and please him too.

- "G-give it to-to me" – you beg, but it wouldn't even be necessary.

He finally puts you down, still holding you by the hips to avoid your legs playing a nasty trick and he enters you from behind, this time sinking completely, one hand on your ass to spread your soft buttocks. You meow, your sensitive center trembles from his intrusion and Roman throws his head back smugly, licking his lips, feeling the water run over his face and your hot folds around his flesh. He slides deep, his cock covered by your white nectar and energies gathering at the bottom of his abdomen ready at any moment to explode inside you. You are soft, familiar, holding you in his arms is a sensation capable of making him feel at peace with the world. Your hips roll tiredly, giving him everything you have and Roman thrust to take it, pounding deep inside you, the furious ecstasy of heat building every time his balls slap you making your back arch against the wall. He gave you what you wanted, always before himself, but now it's his turn. It's a violent, rough ride during which your sweet whispered words mix with his hoarse moans, legs burn, while he lowers his head and finally abandons himself to the wave that suddenly hits, dragging him inside you. The climax is overwhelming, Roman gasps, everything in him seems to empty inside your core, his hips fit into the beautiful curves of your body, mind blank and body unable of wasting a single drop of himself outside.

One of your hands finds him, resting on his forearm in a silent caress and when the hot wave it's finally over, Roman lowers himself onto you, placing a kiss on your back as you smile tiredly. You’re the one who breaks away from him, because for Roman it's an impossible feat he never tries to accomplish.

- "Such a hard working man" – you joke, wrapping your arms around him again.

Water slides against his back, washing away sweat and moisture from both your bodies, while he cradles you, your face pressed against his chest. Roman places a kiss in your head, a satisfied and soft smile on his face as he feels you hold him, so precious and for a moment the two of you stay there, until he’s again stable enough and he drags you out of the shower. You folllow, already knowing what he has in mind, fingers agreeing to leave him just long enough to wrap both of your bodies in white towels before walking back inside. Another refreshing glass to rehydrate and you and him collapse on the bed, hugging each other between the scented sheets, lulled by the sound of water and your breathing.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @sortudademais @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @wrestlingprincess80 @tribalauthor

[slickchickchocolatier]

“Child of the Sea”

A Drabble from the Mermaids Tale series, and dedicated to @hoonieshoney, my little Siren (if yk…then yk.) you did wonderful in your latest Drabble, so take this since you inspired this piece. Enjoy heedam 😈

Warnings: non con smut, dub-con, submissive reader, hesitation, cursing, unprotected smut in detail, breeding kink, baby trapping, unwanted pregnancy l, reader forced into getting pregnant, a slightly whiny Heeseung, this is based of the MT series so it may be confusing unless you’ve read the entire series (which is completed btw). Enjoy.

“Can you hear the ocean, baby?”

His voice submits you into a quivering quake of anticipation and fear. Yet there was something pleasing to the sense of danger in the arousal that forms inside, and he knows it. He creates it and makes you desire more, no matter how hard you try to fight against him.

“Tell me you can hear it.” He gently coos you as he rings his fingers and pushes back the strands of your hair aside, admiring your natural yet extraordinary features. Blessed as the descendant of Poseidon, your turquoise eyes glitter like the jewel itself, while your raving burgundy hair compliments the dark red lips. While many would initially mistake the colors of your DNA for colored contacts and hair dye, they would all drop dead upon finding out that it was all a reflection of your ancestors godly genealogy traits. “My beautiful siren. Sing for me, won’t you baby?”

You both lay facing each other. You didn’t have a choice, since he captured and held you against your will months ago, he’s forced you to sync with his schedule. Due to your recent good behavior, he clipped the chains and allowed you a certain amount of freedom in the room, even when he would be in the next one handling some business. However, no matter how much little freedom he permitted, you would never be allowed out of his grasp or sight. Rule of thumb was for you to remain within one hundred feet at all times, breaking that crucial rule resulted in you being locked away in the underground spa that he had costumed built, where the entire pool was surrounded by a smooth wall that caved the water in, similar to a well. The water came straight from the sea, and only a narrow stoop leading to the front door, escalating out of the shallow end allowed him to stand and watch you during his visits. The last time he had you locked in, forcing your transformation, he kept you as his pet and enjoyed keeping you in secrecy for nearly a whole month. The pool was deep. Below the surface, into the deeper end, the wall transition from brick stone to glass, where he could watch you from the other side in the underground chambers of a luxurious bedroom. Everytime you’d dive down and lurk to the bottom, you could see him sitting in a grand velvet chair, sipping in a glass of wine with his legs loosely crossed as he watched you in awe. How beautiful and magical did you look with your mermaid tail flowing behind.

Sometimes, he’d come up to the glass and press his palm flat against it, beckoning you to come up and flush your own with his. You knew better than to not come up when you’d hear the tapping of his fingers; disobeying him led to other punishments that were far too brutal. So even as much as you hated being treated as his little guppie in the wide aquarium, you had to pick your battles wisely.

All the more reason why you displayed your good girl behavior. You didn’t really realize that it was all part of his tactic in training you to become obedient, and respect the rules he set forth, all so he can keep you isolated and only where he can have you. Initially you behaved as part of a ploy to plot your escape, but day after day you found yourself becoming complacent, never finding the right moment to strike. You’ve attempted to use the Sirens Edge, yet he was far more immune to it than you expected. All thanks to his Adam traits mixed with the Siren DNA from the early ancestors of the clan. You hated to admit it, and still haven’t bend enough to fully do so, but little by little, you’ve come to accept your fate right this man in knowing that you’ll never escape and he’ll always keep you. The worst part? Someday you were going to be forced to bear him sons…all of which will continue the long pure lines of tradition in enhancing the longevity of the Clan of Adam.

Still, despite harboring such hatred and disgust towards him, his gentler and loving moments somewhat appealed to you. That was, after all, the whole reason why you were here. The reason why he caught and kept you. Punishing and training you…it was all because he loved you. Too much…

You hum a tune as he lays closely, his nose touching yours. He joins in as he recognizes the tune of your favorite song and incorporates the lyrics. “Sing either me baby.” Compelled to obey, you softly sing the lyrics. The mesh of both your voices combine a beautiful and harmonious sound that would put the entire world into a state of hypnotic slavery, for the women would abide by his demands under his serenade spell, and the men under yours.

The both of you continue to sing, and that’s when you notice his hands roaming. Please…not again.

“Keep singing.” He speaks against your skin darkly. You had to give it to him, he was devastatingly handsome and the alluring sense of his features only grew more wild as his eyes became darker and more dangerous. They nearly glowed purple, contrasting against your beautiful turquoise gems as he grips a fistful of hair on the back of your head. He pushes you flat against the bed, pressing his lips against yours. It was hard and abrasive, yet the beat of his passion weakened you. It was so contradicting how much you hated and enjoyed the feeling he made you experience.

During the kiss, he grabs on to your bicep and further pins you down, nearly digging you into the satin mattress. His free hand swipes up, riding along your inner thigh and it too, is pinned down against the sheets. He spreads you wide open, preparing you into prime position for him to plow into you, just as always.

Already half nude, he takes advantage of your full nudity as he unzips his trousers and whips out his member offensively. He was past the stage of sensuality and compassion, this was a night of lovemaking through the pure and shameful act of him fucking you into oblivion.

He was long, hard, and entirely too thick. Just looking at it reminded you of the painful sting you were subjected to during the first time, and the second, even the third. Hell, you can’t count how many times he’s taken you, all you know was that there was pain.

“Pl-please! Be gentle…your hurt me badly the last time.” You plead as you raise your hand and palm against his abdomen, gently pressing against it as he leans down and hovers above your frame. “But you ended up loving it, didn’t you?” He teases as he nibbles on your bottom lip.

You shake your head in denial, but he knew. He knew that with the pain, comes great pleasure. “N-no…” you murmured. He ignored your pitiful yelp and kisses you. Taking your hand in his, he drags it against the lean lines of his abdominal muscles and forced you to grab hold of his shaft, ensuring that every single one of your fingers are delicately wrapped around the circumference. All doing so without ever breaking the passionate kiss you enveloped you.

How cruel it was for him to make you feel it, especially since he enforced you to keep hold while he begins to plunge in. “Agh! No! No!” You moan out as the familiar sting bites you. “Shh…yes baby.”

Inch by inch, he slides in. You feel the length of his shaft growing shorter within your palm as he fills you; the strength of its form slipped away from your grasp only to be gripped by another part of you. Your inner muscles clench around his thickness, which sent your mind out of this world as you feel the form of his muscle twitch in response. You felt so good. Too good. The moment he felt your slick muscles clench, his head flings back and exposes his entire throat above you. It became the only view in your sight as you lay under him, forced to watch as he gulps out a moan and groans towards the ceiling while he goes further and further in. “Oh fuck…” he growls out as you squirm and shift, brows furrowed in to an expression of fear, worry, and pain. “Please…it’s too much…”

“Don’t worry baby…I’m going to take care of it in a second. Keep singing.” He winces his eyes shut for only a second before he lowers his head back down and stares into your eyes. “Give me many sons.”

You shake your head negatively as the remaining inch of him sinks into you. His balls kissing your skin as it mashes against your taint. “Please…too soon. I-I cant—“

“You can, and you will.” Was all he relayed before he starts his violent thrusts. Tonight, he wasn’t in the mood to make love, he was in the mood to breed…to mate. To make you carry a part of him and bring it to the world. He wanted to cum, to mix your bloodline with his. “Come on baby, turn me into a daddy. Let daddy’s dick make you into a mommy.”

You scream as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. Your hands fling around as you attempt to escape from under him, only for him to slap them away. But you were relentless, and continued to try and push him away. “Fucking hold still you little—“

He grits his words in slight annoyance as he pauses his thrusts and grabs on to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he takes his other hand and loops it around your upper thigh and pins it against your chest. Now he had more leverage to stroke his cock inside you more openly, and he did.

“Fuck…you feel even better like this.” He words out as he slams into you. The smooth length of his shaft squelches and squeezes its way in and out of you. The sound of his balls slapping into you started to work its magic and sent you into a delirious whirlwind of tingled pleasure.

“Oh my God!” You pant out as you gasp for air. He rests your thigh on his bicep to maintain the levitation of its position while his fingers creep up and gently caress your cheek. “Yeah? Fuck baby…just like that.” Through the ferocity of his act, he pants and groans out his words just as you did. While his lower half becomes more brutal, his lips and hands weee compassionate and sympathetic. There was that gentler tone of him that was lacking earlier. While he was continuously plunging in, he warmed your cheeks with the smooth swipe of his thumb as he wiped away the subtle tears that emerged from your gorgeous eyes.

“Fuck y/n—“ he pants out once more as he pauses to prop his weight on the balls of his kneecaps. Looping his arms around your kier back, he intertwined his fingers as they rest right above your derrière, elevating it off the bed, turning you into a human pendulum. he continued his unlawful movements as gravity takes effect and forces your shoulder blades to sink into the bed as he raises your pelvis higher against his abdomen. “Pleaese-please-please-please—“ you gasp out violently in sync with his thrusts, hoping he would slow down. Instead, he goes harder, faster, and deeper, digging into soft tissue as he penetrates deep into the abyss of your womb as he strikes in and out, tapping that soft spot that causes you to leak onto his shaft, permitting him to slide in and out effortlessly.

He takes a hand and moves it against the center of your chest, smoothing it all the way up against your throat, and under your chin. His thumb reaches up and makes its way into your mouth. You yell out your moans as the image of him using only one arm bridging under your rear and stabilizing your lower frame to fuck into you caused you to grow dizzy. He was strong. So strong.

The sound of skin meshing together with the sticky juices thickening as a result of the constant thrust made you gasp even more. It synchronized with the tempo of his thrusts and you could barely catch your breath. He was not far behind. With his tenacity in going deeper, the obsession of tasting the internal side of you, it was all enough to make his heart stop beating. “Y/n…my beautiful siren.” The last bit came out slightly whiny as his cock twitches violently. You could feel it.

“W-wait! Heeeeung!”

He was close, you could tell. As much as you were forced to enjoy this, and you did, the question of whether you were ready for motherhood became absolute in the sense that you weren’t ready. You can’t, not yet. Because the moment you do become pregnant with this man’s child, that means you won’t be able to escape…ever.

“Please…not-not inside!” You moan out, once again palming his lower abdominal muscles, a pitiful attempt in pushing him away. But it was no use. The second he cupped your own hand and held it in place as his thrusts increased in pace and became sloppy, the loud grunts coming from his mouth matched the momentum of his hips as he kept going in and out.

In and out.

In and…

“Heeseung stop! I can’t be a mother! Please!”

Ignoring your pleading, he takes his thrusts deeper as he shoots his cum deep inside. His head flings back once more, mouth wide open as he faces the ceiling and gulps out a growl as his hand slowly smooths over your mouth to cover your scream. “T-take it…fucking get pregnant.” He stutters as every single muscle on his body twitches while he releases his entire orgasm inside you. His eyes remained closed as he locates your tongue and feeds his fingers into your mouth, rubbing the inside of your cheek as he forces you to suck on them. You hiccup a few sobs as you look down and see him planted deep inside you, still pumping his seeds into your womb. “Y-you…you really tried this time…didn’t you?” You wailed as you quietly sobbed, fearing that he achieved his goal. “U-uh huh….” He lazily tuned out with his face still flushed with the ceiling, leaving only the view of his Adam’s Apple in sight for you to view as you watched it bob up and down when he responded.

Sure, he had never pulled out the other times, but he never railed into you as vigorously like he did tonight. Sighing out a deep breath, he finally lowers his head once more and lays on top of you, mashing his sweaty chest against your breasts. Choking out a chuckle, his fingers, coated in your saliva, trace lines along your face. Smirking, he darkly whispers against your lips…

“Now you’re never going to be able to escape from me.”

He was right. You’re never going to be able to leave, even if you had the chance to get to the sea, you won’t be able to find it within your heart to abandon the child he’s left inside you just now. From here on out, you were no longer a descendant of Poseidon…you were now a mother a part of the clan. Mother of an Adam.

Authors note: take that! 😈