#merfolk reader

[jaythes1mp]

Shallow

Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader ♧romantic♣︎

Aquaman, Aqualad, Mera, and any other underwater hero’s and creatures don’t exist in this.

||-→ I tried to make each pov a different style of writing ||

There was something so captivatingly beautiful about observing the humans from below the surface, as they went about their daily lives, traversing the Metro-Narrows Bridge. The elders had always warned you to keep your distance from the world above, but you couldn't resist sneaking glances at the peculiar, moving metal boxes zooming across the streets, or the striking figures donning vibrant spandex who soared through the skies at night.

The bridge, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, cast an ethereal light across the water of the river. This sight, enhanced by the night, would always catch your attention, especially when they appeared. Moving in and out of the shadows, darting around or simply standing on the railing, lost in their own worlds.

You had grown fond of observing them as they soared through the night sky, reminiscent of the graceful movements of swans. Their elegance was effortless, seemingly defying gravity as they traversed the air. It was in those moments, watching the sky people glide past, that you were struck by the rawness of their beauty.

You never dared to come too close to the surface during the day, the haunting tales from your pod serving as a constant reminder of the horrors that existed above the water. But the night was a different story; it’s when you were more willing to take risks. The darkness provided the perfect cover, shrouding you in obscurity as the humans slept.

Though you supposed that the real reason you continued to venture up to the surface was because it was the time that they emerged, gliding through the air and gracefully traversing the buildings. Their shadows, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, seemed to dance in perfect harmony with the night. Always seeming to captivate your attention in a way that no underwater creatures could.

However, on this particular night, you noticed something out of the ordinary. One of the usually lively land creatures was sluggish and listless, moving with none of the fluid grace that you had come to admire. A deep crimson liquid seeped through the fabric of his suit, spattering across the spandex and staining it a dark, ominous hue.

You cautiously approached the surface, swimming closer than you had ever dared to before. Slowly, you emerged, peering just above the water's edge.

You couldn’t see the human clearly, obscured as he was by the sizable drop between the bridge and the water below, but the scent he carried was undeniable. There was something utterly alluring about his aroma. It was a stark contrast to the familiar scents of salt and oil you were used to underwater. You haven't come across anything even remotely similar to it before.

The land dweller was undeniably beautiful.

A loud crash shattered the silence, jolting your attention back to reality. Your gills flared out in alarm, and in your surprise, the soft bioluminescent glow of your tail dimmed down, a natural response to the potential threat.

You backed away, submerging yourself down into the safety that the depths of the water provided. Your gaze fixating on the figure in the distance, decorated in his familiarly vibrant red and yellow attire. This one hastily making his way to the blue-clad human's side, concern decorated across his face, his actions imbued with urgency. Mask torn from his face.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your back from the scene unfolding above, releasing a flurry of bubbles that rose to the surface. Your pods stern warnings echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay in the world above.

You make it no more than fifteen feet before a thunderous splash shatters the silence, the seawaters ripples rolling across your skin and triggering an involuntary shiver, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your tail instinctively sprung into action, propelling you back with a rapid, powerful flick.

With a sudden movement, your arms encircled the man's sinking frame, securing a firm grip on his sides. Your eyes widening in shock at the contact, your webbed fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him in place.

For a moment, you paused, studying him. Your eyes absorbing every little detail. From the man's soft, almost spongy flesh under your touch, how soft and almost squishy his land dwelling arms were, how they seemed to just give way to the touch of your webbed fingers. Then to the way the baby blue suit of his that clung to him, was torn and tattered, ripping away underwater. Your gaze lingering on the deep red liquid seeping out of his torso, staining his skin and leaving a trail of ominous scarlet. And then, your gaze travelled to the two bizarre, elongated limbs extending from his waist. A stark contrast to the streamlined grace of your own tail.

His lips parted, releasing a stream of bubbles, each one ascending to the surface before vanishing from sight. You watched as his body suddenly went limp in your arms, reminding you of the dire situation you had inadvertently involved yourself in. With a powerful flick of your tail, you swiftly propelled yourself to the surface, bringing him up so that he could breathe. Your gills flared out, working overtime to filter oxygen from the water while you waited, your hearts hammering in your chest.

When the human made no attempt to improve, limp and unresponsive, you couldn't suppress the deep hiss that escaped from the back of your throat. Your grip tightening around his frame, your tail coiled tighter around his legs, an attempt to stabilise and bring some form of response from him. Your eyes grew large in desperation as you shook him back and forth, each movement growing more frantic with the passing seconds.

You directed your attention to the deep red liquid that was oozing out of his abdomen, its thick, almost oily consistency spreading out in little waves around you in the water. Coming out in shallow pulses. You tilted your head slightly, noting that the fluid's flow didn't seem natural. It felt wrong, a gut feeling of sorts. You hastily reached for the pouch tethered to your hip, pulling out a woven bundle of seaweed and a salve prepared by the elders of your pod.

You delicately began to layer the salve over the gaping wound, taking care to press the woven seaweed into the lesion. The salve, a rich green and purple, had a cooling effect as it made contact with the human's skin. A crucial aspect due to its high iodine content, which helps to close the large gash. As the ointment came into contact with the blood, it began to congeal and bind the tissue together, halting the bleeding.

However, you were acutely aware of the human, who remained unresponsive. His chest, which should've been rising and falling with each inhale, lay still. A sudden panic clutched at your hearts, threatening to overwhelm you. You weren't sure what the proper human anatomy was, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to breathe.

You placed a webbed hand on his chest, the flesh there surprisingly firm. You pushed down, then up again, attempting to mimic the breathing motions you had seen him and others do. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pleaded for him to respond, a silent mantra running through your head. With urgency, you placed a firm grip on the back of his neck, tilting his head back, the gills on your neck flaring out to pull in as much oxygen as they could. Your tail coiling tightly around his waist to keep him afloat.

Despite the pressure you exerted, there was no response from him. His chest remained still, no signs of life. Your breath hitched at the sight, a sense of desperate desperation washing over you. You were frantically trying to keep his head tilted back while the water was washing over his face, the cool liquid creating small ripples that mirrored the urgency of the moment. His body remained motionless, unresponsive to your frantic attempts. You could feel the pressure building in your own chest, your gills working overtime to extract oxygen.

In a final, desperate attempt, you lean in closer, positioning yourself to allow your webbed fingers to forcibly pry open his parted lips. You took in a deep breath and expelled it through the opening, pushing every ounce of air you could manage into his unresponsive lungs.

You repeated the action multiple times, exerting every ounce of effort to force air into his trachea. Each breath, heavy and laboured. You finally pulled back, allowing yourself a moment of respite. Your breaths came out ragged and sharp, a stark contrast to the steady, undisturbed water around you.

As he remains unresponsive, his body frighteningly limp, your body goes slack, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Reluctantly, you release your grip on him and let him go, his body now floating eerily close to yours. You close your eyes tight, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that was rapidly forming.

You flinch at the sudden and unexpected contact, your eyes fluttering open. An alarmed hiss escaped once again through your lips, more out of surprise than anything else. Just as you were about to submerge yourself underwater, a firm hand grasped your shoulder, its grip strong and unwavering.

"Y-you're...alive.", you stuttered out, a mixture of disbelief and awe laced in your raspy voice. The hand on your shoulder felt firm and real, a stark contrast to the nightmarish scenario you had just been a part of.

“Nightwing?” Red Robin's voice cuts through the quiet night, bouncing off the empty alleyways. Frustrated, he takes off his comms, readjusting them to try again for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.

"Dick, come in," he practically growls out, tapping on his device with a little more force than necessary.

“Where the hell are you?” he mutters, staring up at the tall buildings. Dick’s always late, but this was getting ridiculous. With a sigh, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waits.

A low, familiar voice crackles on the other end of the comms. “Stalker.”

Tim rolls his eyes, recognising the voice immediately. It was too late in the night to put up with him. “Jason.” he sighs, “What do you want. Have you heard from Dick?”

“Not a word.” The response is curt, and the annoyance in Jason’s voice is obvious. He rarely joined in their patrols, preferring to stick to his own methods of dealing with things.

Tim lets out a frustrated huff, tapping his fingers impatiently against his arm. Of course Dick would pick now to go radio silent.

He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment to let out a frustrated groan. He was stressed enough as it is, none of this was helping.

“You’re patrolling the Narrows?” Jason’s voice breaks through Tim’s thoughts, pulling him back to reality. He looks around, taking in the surroundings with a frown. The Narrows was never a good place to be alone.

“Yeah.” he responds, not taking his eyes off of the shadows. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, Dick’s nowhere to be seen. In or out of uniform.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and Tim can practically hear the smirk in Jason’s voice.

“Need backup?” he offers, amusement clear in his tone. The elder boy mocking him.

Tim scowls, shaking his head even if he knew Jason couldn’t see him. “No.” he replies curtly. “I’m not a child, I can handle this myself.”

“Sure, kid.” Jason’s response is just as dismissive. “I’ll come check on you in a bit anyway. Make sure you haven’t gotten your ass kicked.”

Tim’s scowl deepens at Jason’s reply, not appreciating the offer of help — or the nickname. “I don’t need a babysitter.” he grumbles. “I’m going to find Dick, and I don’t need your help.”

There’s a pause, and Tim can practically hear the eye roll from Jason. “Whatever you say, Replacement. I’ll be there soon.”

“No—” Before Tim can protest, the comms go silent. Damn it, Jason.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, biting at the inside of his cheek. The last person he needed to see right now was Jason. The last time he’d come face to face with the man, things didn’t go so well.

Tim grits his teeth and pushes himself off of the wall. He had better things to do than get into a fight with his older brother. Like finding his other older brother.

With a huff, Tim starts walking, making his way through the narrow alleys of the Narrows. It’s quiet, eerily so, and his instincts are on high alert.

Everything feels off. The air is still, and he can’t shake the feeling of being watched. His breath stutters in his chest, but he pushes the feeling down. He had work to do.

“Dick?” he calls out, his headset’s blinking green light signalling the message going through. He glances around cautiously as he moves. “Nightwing, come in. Can you hear me?”

There’s no response, and Tim tries again. Nothing but static. His shoulders tense, the unease growing in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t like Dick. The man was always on top of communication.

Tim continues forward, his footsteps quick and light. He keeps his eyes scanning the shadows around him, but the silence is deafening. Where the hell is he?

A muffled crunch breaks the silence, and the boy freezes, his breath hitching. It was faint, coming from somewhere off the alley in front of him. His heart rate quickens, and he carefully shifts on his feet, trying to pinpoint the source.

There was something across the street. Someone.

Tim squints, his eyes trying to make out what it was. It was too dark to tell. Damn it, why can’t Dick be here to deal with this..

He’s too used to working in a team, having the security of someone else there to watch his back. The someone’s in question usually being Batman or Nightwing.

He steels himself, slipping into a fighting stance and taking slow steps forward. He can’t let his guard down, not now.

As he moves, the shape across the street shifts. It’s still far away, but from the size and height, he could tell it was definitely a figure.

His comms device beeps, startling the boy and nearly causing him to stumble. He quickly scrabbles to check it, hoping for some sort of answer or communication.

“Red.” Jason’s voice comes through, static breaking up some of the message. The device was clearly reaching a limit. “Can you hear me? Dick’s in trouble.” The voice, as crackling as it was over the broken comms, sounded dishevelled and panted. Jason rarely called for help.

With a final glance at the figure across the street, Tim’s eyes flicker back down to the comms in his hand. Jason found him.

“Where are you?” he asks, not wasting a second as he sets off at a sprint. He didn’t care what kind of trouble Nightwing had gotten into, he just needed to get there.

“Don’t worry about me. Get to Metro-Narrows Bridge.”

The urgency in Jason’s voice has Tim’s heartbeat racing. He doesn’t question it, just continues sprinting. He knew the bridge, and knew it was far.

“...” he grits his teeth. “I’m on my way.”

Tim hits the wall with a pained gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he doubles over coughing at the impact. His vision swims. Shit.

He lets out a sharp gasp, the breath knocked out of him as he’s smashed against the hard bricks. The pain doesn’t have time to register, as his mind is sent into a panicked frenzy.

He sucks in a low breath, trying to clear his head and figure out what the hell just happened. There’s a shuffle of feet, and the distinct sound of metal being unsheathed.

The attack was too precise, too sudden. He grunts, trying to push himself back away from the wall, but a large hand keeps him pinned.

His head finally stops swirling, and he can focus on the large figure in front of him. Not good.

He’s a towering wall of a man, arms bigger than Tim’s head. He’s muscular, clearly built like a brawler. The metal that had unsheathed was a knife, the sharp, gleaming blade being held firmly in the man’s large hand.

“No more running.” the man growls, his other hand still keeping Tim pinned against the wall.

Tim glared up at him.

He’s been in situations similar to this before. He’s fought and won against opponents bigger than him, more experienced than him. He needed to stay calm, and assess the situation.

With a pained grunt, he pushes against the man’s arm, struggling to break free. The man just leans closer, his breath hot in Tim’s face.

The smell of smoke and old alcohol fills Tim’s nose, making him want to retch as the man sneers at him. “Struggle all you want, kid.” he drawls. “You’re coming with me one way or another..” Tim clenches his jaw.

He analyses the situation quickly. His equipment was in his belt, but pinned tight against the wall left him with very little mobility. He had to find a way to get away swiftly, before the man could do him any serious harm.

Tim’s mind races, trying to work out a way to get himself out of this. He’s too close quarters to the man, and any attempt to get away would lead to him getting a knife in his gut.

The man’s grip tightens, making him gasp as the knife is held closer to his skin. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. He would have to time this right. “Stop squirmin.’” The man’s gruff voice rang out.

Tim ignores him, grunting as he struggles against the hand pinning him. There had to be something he could use to—

A gleam of something metal catches his eye, and he glances down, spotting a metal pipe sticking out of an open garbage bin. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough.

Tim takes in a shallow breath, his mind racing for a second. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, trying to keep the man talking and distracted.

“Don’t try any shit, sidekick.” He tightened his hold on the boy, using his other hand to get out a walkie-talkie from the pouch on his chest.

Sidekick? Tim’s teeth gritted, a spark of anger flaring up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t just a sidekick.

Tim’s eyes glance down again at the pipe, trying to calculate his next move. He watched as the man brought the walkie-talkie up to his mouth, his heart rate increasing as he prepared to act.

“I got a bird out here,” the man grunted into the device, keeping his eyes fixed on Tim. “Found him in the-“

He barely had time to react before Tim acted. With a sudden burst of strength, he jerks forward, wrenching himself free from the man’s grip. He immediately drops down, grabbing the metal pipe and brandishing it like a weapon. Flinging it into the man’s hand that held the radio. The impact caused him to drop it, as he let out a cry of pain, stumbling back.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He quickly used the momentary opening of shock and pain to his advantage, striking the man hard in the stomach with the pipe. The man grunted, his hand instinctively going to where he’d been hit.

He wasn’t about to give the thug any time to recover. He brought up a leg and kicked out fast, nailing him hard in the knee. The man yelled out again, staggering back.

He raged, stumbling forward and landing one hard punch against Tim’s face.

The younger boy’s head snapped to the side from the hit, the force of it knocking his mask askew, cracking and splitting as he reeled back. His vision swims from the impact, but he can taste the distinct taste of blood in his mouth.

He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his face and cursing, blood seeping down his face.

His head hurt. A lot. That one hit had left him dizzy, and his cheek stung like hell.

The pain is enough to clear his mind though, and he refocuses on the man in front of him. His lip is split, and his cheek feels like it’s on fire. His mask hangs half off of his face.

Tim grits his teeth, glaring at the man with a new found fire in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let some random thug take him out.

The perpetrator lets out a huff, spitting out a glob of blood onto the floor next to him. An ugly sneer plastered his face, and he stepped forward, reaching down for the knife that had been discarded on the ground. “You little shit.” he spat. “I’ll make you pay for that.”

His eyes flickered down to the knife held flimsily in his hand. He needed to get out of this. The man was bigger and definitely stronger, but obviously nowhere near as experienced as Tim was. He’s surprised that the thug had even managed to get in a decent hit to his face.

His mind is too preoccupied, caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, and he fails to notice the man’s approach until the moment he's already upon him. The thug's fury makes him careless and ill-prepared, the sound of his stumbling footsteps betraying his presence due to the injury on his knee.

Tim quickly raises his arm instinctively, attempting to shield himself as the man’s towering frame comes charging at him. He’s tackled to the ground in a single swift move, the impact crushing his ribs against the concrete floor.

His back hits the ground, the air getting knocked out of him for the second time that night. The man’s weight pinned him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a loud gasp as he struggled.

The man had the knife clutched in his hand, the gleam of the blade reflecting the lights of the city as it was raised up, aimed to strike.

Drake nearly sneered at the sight. He’s an amateur. Over confident in himself and relying solely on force.

Tim’s eyes darkened, his glare locked on the man above him. He was not going to be defeated by some two-bit mugger.

He kicked out at the man, aiming for his still injured knee. The man grunted as he took the kick, shifting off balance for just a second.

It was enough of an opening for Tim to react. He pushed up on the man, using the momentum to roll them both over, switching their positions and taking the top. He wasted no time in smashing the man’s head against the ground, knocking him out stone cold. Blood pooling down against the pavement.

He paused, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man. His lip stung as blood still trickled down his face, the adrenaline in his system beginning to wear off.

Tim sat there for a moment, letting out a hiss of pain as he lifted a hand and gently touched his split lip. He gingerly moved his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he felt the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his face.

Dick was still in trouble. That was the thought at the front of his mind, the reason he was out here and why he had to get to that bridge.

With a wince, Tim pushed himself up, staggering for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over him. He was pretty sure he’d developed a minor concussion from being thrown into the wall.

Everything ached, and his body was screaming at him to just stay down. He ignored it. Nightwing was his priority.

He swayed for a moment, his vision going white around the edges as his head spun, before he managed to stay standing and start moving again.

He didn’t think, he just ran.

He’s still panting as his feet hit the concrete, his body protesting the movement. The nausea from his concussion was becoming very real, and he had to stop to take a deep breath to steady himself.

Fuck, he was going to throw up, wasn’t he?

Tim bit his tongue and started running again, forcing himself to push on and ignore the pain. He had to keep moving.

The cold, night air hurt his lungs, but he didn’t stop. Not even as the pain from the beating began to make itself known with each hard footstep against the concrete. He had to get to the bridge.

He kept going at a brutal pace, ignoring how his vision swam and how every breath he took just made him feel like he needed to puke.

He’s not sure how long he had ran, his mind focused entirely on just moving. One foot in front of the other, he just kept going.

As he rounded the corner, he noticed the bridge in the distance. His eyes widening, watching Dick stagger back against the railings edge.

Tim stumbled for a moment, but pushed himself back up, keeping himself moving forward. He could barely see straight, but nothing else mattered. Nightwing’s tall and dark silhouette was leant against the night light of the bridge. Even from a distance, he could see the blood on Dicks skin, staining the side of his face, his suit’s front ripped open, a large gash in his abdomen pooling out onto the ground.

Tim’s speed quickens, every muscle in his body crying in protest but he continues on. All he could focus on was the sight of Nightwing. In the low light, he could see Dick’s shoulders moving with each heavy breath, looking seconds away from collapsing.

In a desperate attempt to save his mentor, Tim lunges forward and grabs onto Dick's arm. However, the fabric of the torn and damaged suit simply tears further under the force, causing Dick to slip free from Tim's grasp and fall into the dark, ominous water below.

"NO—!" The cry escapes Tim's mouth in a choked rush, the sound filled with anguish and fear. With a desperate burst of energy, he lunges forward, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to cling to Dick's suit, to anything that would keep him from falling.

But it was too late. He was too late.

His heart hammers frantically against his chest as he gazes down into the dark depths below, his eyes wide and searching desperately for even a glimpse of Dick in the river's deep murky water.

His breath hitches, a silent sob wracking his frame as he slumps over the edge of the bridge, his hands shaking as he brings them up to his face. His blood-slick fingers thread through his hair, his eyes wide as they stay fixed on the dark water where Dick had fallen.

The sound of a vehicle approaching in the distance catches his ears, but he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't turn to see who it is or check to see if it's a threat. He just keeps staring down into the water, the sound of the river below the only thing he can hear over his panicked breathing.

Jason came to a crashing halt at the side of the bridge, the panicked urgency in his voice clear. He stumbled off his bike, nearly falling as he yelled out.

"Where is he--” His hollow eyes darted around at their surroundings. "WHERE IS HE?!"

Dick.

Tim's eyes widened as Nightwing's head broke the surface of the water, his body floating limp against the current. He's alive.

His shoulders tense as he quickly scrambles to his feet, his body protesting in pain with each movement.

The relief he feels is quickly drowned out, however, as he notices the large bioluminescent tail wrapped around his older brother's lower half, keeping him from crashing with the harsh currents. 

Jason quickly approached the bridges railing, his heavy boots thudding loudly against the concrete, his heart racing thunderously against his chest, deep sapphire eyes following Tim's wide gaze down into the water. As he saw the sight in front of him, his eyes widened in disbelief.

He gripped the rough stone ledge, leaning over to get a better look at his brother. "What the fuck is that?" The older boys voice cuts through the ringing in Drake's ears.

Tim couldn't respond, his eyes glued on the large tail, his jaw slack. He took in the sight of the long powerful appendage wrapped around his brother's waist. It was beautiful. The long black scales seemed to glow a soft purple even in the dim moon’s light, as if the creature attached was glowing itself. The bioluminescence was something that one could only describe as ethereal.

Tim's heart raced as he took a step closer to the edge of the bridge, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. He couldn't believe his eyes. Neither of them could.

Tim's mind reeled, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process the situation. He knew that he should be scared. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt heavy and thick as he finally managed to speak, his voice low and shaky. "I..I don't know." He croaked. 

A ragged breath escaped his lips as the sea creature met his gaze.

He was frozen as he locked eyes with the creature. His mouth went dry, everything around him seemed to disappear into the background. The only thing he could focus on was the deep piercing eyes peering up from the darkness of the river.

Everything about the creature was attractive – its long shimmering scales, bioluminescent glow, and even the large dorsal fin along its spine.

The flutter of the creature's gills when its eyes met theirs didn’t go unnoticed by the brothers. Jason's lips parted into as much of a smirk as it could given the situation.

The Mer's features slowly disappeared under the surface, as it made a sudden exit. Both of the boys' eyes flicked towards the water, but the sudden gasping from their elder brother drew their attention away once more. 

Dick was struggling, coughing up water as he attempted to pull himself up and out of the water. His large hand was grasping desperately to the creature's shoulder, as he pulled himself up.

Tim's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Dick gasping for air, his body shivering as he struggled to grapple himself out of the water. He was so focused on his older brother's struggles that he almost missed the flicker of glowing purple as the creature’s tail disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Tim moved forward to help Dick, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Jason with a grimace on his face.

"What are we going to do?" Tim asked, his voice filled with worry.

Their conversation was cut short, however, as Dick's coughing subsided, replaced by a strangled gasp for air, his eyes wide and frantic. 

"I'm fine," he rasped, his hands trembling as he tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, his body shaking violently. His sharp ocean eyes focused on the crushed seaweed-looking salve used to treat his wounds.

Tim was about to respond when they heard a shuffling from the water, the faint sound of something scratching against the concrete. Tim's gaze snapped down to the water, his heart starting to pound against his chest.

Jason had already stepped back and drawn his weapon, his eyes fixed on a spot in the water a few feet below them. The sound of sloshing water echoed around them again, the dim light from the moon making it difficult to see anything except the faint bioluminescence.

And then, you were gone.

This is the result of the poll -> link.

Don’t judge my random fighting scene with Tim I was trying something out🦖🦖

All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!

I rewrote everything, so I apologise that this took so long to come out💚

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hi there!! i saw the arcana on the fandom list so could i please (sneakily) request asra x mer!reader? like meeting for the first time maybe? thank you!!!

Maybe It Was Fate

|| magician asra x merfolk!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; reader's a merfolk, first time really writing Asra, short drabble

|| Summary; when Asra's on one of his travels, he meets reader.

Requests closed!

Started; November 19th

Finished; November 19th

Author Note; thank you for 700 followers‼️🫶

~~~

Asra had gone along one of his many journeys, looking for herbs and whatever else he may need. What he didn't expect to find, was you. A merfolk. He's heard of them of course, but he never expected to find someone quite like you. You were stunning from the moment he'd laid eyes on you.

You'd spotted the traveler walking by your lake and decided to say hello, not getting many in these parts of the forest. As you popped your head out of the water you gave him a wave. He smiled to you, seeming mesmerized by your presence.

"Amazing." You faintly heard him whisper before he walked closer to you. Sitting down at the edge of the water front. He had no real destination he needed to be anyway, why not stay and talk to the angelic merfolk? "Do you have a name?" Asra asked. Before pausing and tilting his head to the side just a bit," can you understand me?"

When you nodded, he smiled at that. Fascinating. "My name is Y/N." You told him.

"Y/N. What's it like living in the water?" He had many questions for you. He'd be here as long as you allowed him to be. So, Asra made himself more comfortable. His knees came up to his chest, arms folded over top. Then Asra rested his chin on the centre. The smile never leaving his lips. Love might be a strong word to use on someone he'd just met. But he did have a deep attraction to you.

"Better than living on land." You couldn't help but tease the traveler, whose name you've yet to learn. Asra laughed at that and nodded. Fully agreeing with what you were saying.

"Oh, I'm quite sure it is." He then also realized he never introduced himself, his cheeks turned flushed and Asra cleared his throat. Clearly a little awkward now," I'm Asra. The Magician."

"Magician?" Your eyes widened a bit. Now looking at him, Asra did have that mystical vibe. Even in the way he dressed. You've always wondered what magicians were like. There weren't many amongst your people but you'd heard the stories. The legends of great beings that could control the forces. Just as Asra had been intrigued by merfolk, you'd been intrigued by magicians. Maybe it was fate you'd crossed paths. "Could you teach me, Asra?"

Asra looked a little surprised by the request. Teach a merfolk magic? He wasn't sure if that had ever been done before. But he certainly wasn't about to waste an opportunity like this," of course I can." Asra gave you that smile of his. Little did either of you know, that in this moment... your lives would be changed forever.

[monstersholygrail]

A Second Wave

Shark Hybrid bf x fem!reader—soft sex, multiple orgasms, marking, two cocks, fingering, double penetration, praise, creampie, aftercare, and cum play

Imagine a Shark Hybrid bf having decided to take you as his mate. You're his first ever human mate. Sure, he's been with other merpeople in the past, just passing flings he couldn't really care about. It was you who caught his attention from the very first moment you two locked eyes. And it was you who drew him in with your sweet laughs and your sweeter smell.

But he had no idea what it was like to have a human mate. He didn't know what you were used to or what you'd think about the very clear differences between him and human men. So as not to overwhelm you, when the time came for you to finally lay with him and bare your beautiful plump frame to his grateful eyes, he only revealed one of his dicks.

He watches you carefully, looking over your reaction closely. If you seemed confused then perhaps human men had two cocks as well and he'd release his second one. But no, you didn't look confused, only wildly excited with a faint glimmer of concern for if his hefty size would fit into your tight cunt.

A part of him is of course thrilled that you're laying beneath him practically drooling over his massive length, but another part of him is scared about how you'll react when he reveals his second cock to you that he's been told is even thicker than the first. Especially as it seems only one dick is normal for human males.

When he finally sinks into your warmth it's everything he's been imagining. Even with only one of his cocks inside of you it's the best sex he's ever had. The intimacy of the moment unmatched as his clawed hands trace over your curves.

You just feel so good and warm, he wants to give you all of him. He grabs handfuls of you, his hands sinking into your softness as he helps slam you down harder on his cock.

While he continues to lose himself your sweet cunt, he can't completely ignore that small nagging voice in the back of his head. A whispering voice telling him that he could give you even more, make your pleasure greater. All he had to do was let out his other cock. But his fear quickly silenced it and he just starts pounding into even harder, eager to make you feel good.

He knows he can't keep it a secret though. It wouldn't be fair to you or him. So a few days after that special night you two spent together, he sits you down, telling you he has something important to talk about. Not realizing that for humans that sentence can create a lot of anxiety.

You being the wonderful mate that you are asks him what's wrong. Being as before you he's never had a human mate, he has no idea how to put this. So he figures the best way is to just get it over with and blurt it out.

The silence stretches awkwardly after he does, neither of you knowing what to say.

"What?" You ask in your shock. He swallows down his nerves.

"I have another cock. One l've been hiding encase it was too much for you."

Again, the silence stretches. Shark Hybrid bf fears the worst, internally terrified that he's about to lose you. That you'll be scared or upset. That now that you know you may not want him.

"Can I see it?" Is what you finally say, shocking him. He whips his head around to look at you, jaw dropped.

His cocks twitch in his tail at your words and his Addams apple bobs but he nods in agreement, a spark of hopeful arousal shooting through him. It enough to have one of his cocks pop through the slit of his tail. A brief hesitation has him holding back for only a second before he looks into your eyes and sees only acceptance.

A long sigh of pleasure leaves him as he finally releases his second cock from his slit. His eyes never leave you as your own trail down his body and they widen once they reach his lengths. The second one indeed being thicker than the first. Both equally impressive in their length. Your bf waits with bated breath for you to say something- anything.

"H-how would they fit?" You whisper in awe, your hand tentatively reaching out to touch one.

Shark Hybrid bf groans, his head falling back as his cocks twitch at your slight touch. The second one was always more sensitive than the first. He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"There's many ways we could mate. But I could, uh, mmph, stretch you. Fit them both inside your pretty little hole. F-feel how wide you can stretch f'me."

You both moan at the image his words paint in your heads and before you know it you're slowing riding his first cock, his hips swiveling and mixing up your insides as he stretches you on his girth. You're a dripping mess, your arousal dribbling down his dick and making a mess of your joined hips. The anticipation fueling you just as much as his hard cock inside you is.

Shark Hybrid bf can feel how perfectly you're wrapped around him and he has to gather his strength to hold back his release. When your cunt flutters around him, clearly begging for more, his hand slips between your bodies, and his fingers gently push in, brushing against your walls and his cock at the same time causing you both to gasp.

He works on stretching you even wider, not willing to risk you getting hurt over this. Making sure everything is properly lubricated, leaving the two of you absolutely soaked. It was wet and filthy but so fucking hot. Each finger he adds in, pumping them in tandem with his length as your body relaxing further and further.

By the time you're finally ready for his second cock you're a fucked out mess, your head all spacey as you sag against your bfs chest. But the second you feel his second tip press against your entrance it's like you get a second wind, your mind and body coming to life.

Long pleasurable mewls echo off the walls as your bf slides his second cock deep inside you with the first. Your pussy almost unbearably full of him. For a moment you fear you'll burst in half, his sizes threatening to break you into two.

Almost as if sensing your worries your bf settles down inside of you, letting you adjust and calm down to. His hands caress your sides, massaging your fat with an unparalleled reverence.

He whispers soft words of praise in your hear, telling you how good you feel, how well you're taking him, and how you're the best mate he could've ever hoped for. And with his hands now free he doesn't hesitate to bring a couple of fingers up to rub soft circles into your clit, causing you to more easily relax against the intrusion.

You make the first move when you're ready, surprising your bf yet again as you start to ride his dicks. A low growl you've never heard from him before tears through his throat and his claws tighten on your waist. And before you know it you're bouncing on cocks at a frenzied pace, each glide pushes along your throbbing walls, making you crazy for him.

As much as he tries Shark Hybrid bf can't find it in himself to slow down. The stimulation of your perfect sopping pussy and the way his dicks rub together inside you send him spiraling, a feral need taking over him. He fucks into you with abandon, barreling you both into an unimaginable release.

And when you finally cum you swear for a moment you black out, the pleasure far too intense for your poor human body to handle. But your bf keeps fucking you through it, making you cum even harder till it's gushing out of you in a steady stream. The intensity of it all sends you clamping down on both his cocks and with a few more thrusts your bf cums right along with you.

You don't know what to expect when he finally does cum inside you but you didn't realize that double the cocks meant double the cum. His release doesn't seem to end as he shoots endless streams of cum deep inside you, stuffing you till you're overflowing with his release and your belly distends more and more.

When he carefully slips his lengths out of you, his cum spills out of you like a current. A satisfied grin rests on your bf's lips as he watches and his hand leaves your swollen sensitive clit to caress your stomach. After a moment he pushes on it gently and his grin grows wider as more and more spills out onto the ground beneath you, making an even bigger mess.

He swears to himself then and there that there is nothing better than having a pretty human mate like you.

[chimkin-samich]

MerMay hitting like crazy lately...

Expect more, and I mean m o r e ... SOON! 👀

[specshroom]

Mage reader is definitely the type to purposefully jump into siren infested waters lmao.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Like imagine you overhear some sailors talking about how they have to sail past siren territory and your ears perk up. You beg the sailors to let you join, under the pretence that you're a studious mage who's "researching sirens" and "studying their magic". 

The sailors believe you and bring you along the trip to the rough waters of the siren's territory. They've all plugged and covered their ears as usual, except for you, you're too busy leaning over the ships edge to get a peak at any sirens below. And wouldn't you know, the second you hear the siren's song you're gone. Lost in a trance, blank expression unable to hear the sailors yelling at you as you stand up on the ships edge and jump right into the sea.

The cold waters shock you out of your trance as you take in the quiet surroundings, salt water burning your eyes. You try and swim to the surface but feel a strong tug on your leg. Squinting down into the deep darkness you finally see the creature you were looking for. 

Dark black eyes stare up at you from below, it's powerful tail swaying behind it. The siren pulls you down, deeper into it's predatory hold with it's clawed hands. You stare at it in awe and the siren stares back, confused as to why you aren't struggling at all. 

You then feel a pinch in your lungs as you run out of air. You promptly take both hands and firmly grasp the sirens cold cheeks before pulling the creature into a deep kiss. 

The siren freezes in absolute shock as you kiss them deeply. The kiss breaths magic into your lungs, giving you temporary air. You release the sea creature from the kiss and take a hesitant breath.

"That actually worked?!?!"

Your excited yell comes out as just bubbles in the water as the siren continues to stare, dumbfounded. Your hands move from their cheeks to the sirens agape mouth, excitedly exclaiming how sharp their teeth are while touching the pointed tips with your fingers. 

You're very touchy, the siren learns as they let you marvel at their body. Running your fingers down the sirens arm, comparing your hands, intertwining your fingers. The siren is at a complete loss of how to deal with this but before you can touch anything too important you feel that pinch in your lungs again. 

You look up at the beast and tap your lips. The siren finally huffs at you in disbelief and you take that as a yes and pull them in for another deep kiss. You kiss for much longer than is necessary and you even try to sneak your tongue into the kiss which earns you a little nip from the siren. 

The creature grins at you, pulls your body against theirs and comes to the conclusion not to eat you

You bring your arms around the shoulders of their much bigger frame as they hold you close to swim deeper into the cold depths. 

They have to show the rest of the pod this very strange human they caught.

𓆉 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓇼

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere MerMay but you're a host for a bunch of foreign exchange students coming from Merfolk countries all over the world in your middle of nowhere Uni town.

You've got to get them settled on land while dealing with their... odder tendencies. I mean, seriously! Who threatens to stuff someone full of eggs all the time?! Sure the scholarship money is definitely worth all the grief from waking up smothered in tentacles and fins every morning, but you really wish it wasn't.

Maybe then you could actually then complain about your new Leech roommate who was, yes, an actual honest to god Leech. It's not so bad, but it does get hard to ignore them when they wrap themselves around you, squeezing and begging for "Just a teeny bit of your blood 🥺?"

You thought you'd have more luck with the others, but then your new Beta fish is flopping dramatically in your lap, fanning out his scales while chasing all the others away with a sad little pout.

He gets along least with the Mantis shrimp, who's always smacking the other two off of you like they're made out of paper. You'd tell her to knock it off, but honestly she scares the hell out of you, so you just accept when she drags you back to her room for a long cozy nap with her new favorite human.

Yeah. That money better be worth it by the end of the school year. That is, if you even make it out at this point.

[moratorya]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 ━━━━ 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ in which you're a mermaid of the seas, blessed with a love for swimming with freedom, and jason is a sailor of the seas, blessed with a love for you.

word count: 8.1k

warnings: mentions of sexism, some violence, character death (guys it's jason what do you expect), completely unedited because i wrote this in a fever state

notes: hello !!! first multi-chapter idea (very excited) and there were so many of you who were interested in this idea??? which was so flattering???? anyways i hope i did it justice - i literally wrote this in like,,, a day because i was so inspired and excited. let me know what you think!!!

fic masterlist・next part

“There’s a ship! It’s inbound! There’s a ship!”

It’s your first time. You’re ten, struggling to read the sheet music that’s been assigned as homework, when the giggles come from the older mermaids who waste no time rushing towards the surface.

You give your tutor a weird look, but she’s out of there so fast that you barely catch the end of her tail.

Curious, you put down the music and follow, small tail beating at twice the rate to keep up with the older girls. The good thing is, you were born with a stronger tail than most, and gills that worked half as hard to gain the same amount of oxygen. So you don’t really struggle, keeping the glimmer of your seniors’ scales in your vision as you beat your tail to go upwards.

The closer you get to the surface, the choppier the water gets. You suspect that there’s probably a storm, or the wind is kicking up a fuss, but it barely fazes you as you keep swimming. The coral that clings to your skin groans in protests, the bioluminescent light flickering as it struggles to keep up with the pressure changes and the rush of the water around you. But you need to swim fast, because otherwise you’ll lose sight of the mermaid in front, and that means a trip wasted.

“Oh my,” one of the girls cries as she gets closer enough to identify the ship, “it’s the Bat!”

Everyone stills. You arrive with a huff, barely behind. You had been catching up, even at your age and statute. You frown, looking around, trying to see the identification of the nearby ship.

A harpoon smashes into the water. The glint of the metal seems almost malicious.

A girl screams. Then they all scramble in the opposite direction.

You torpedo straight down, heart thumping. It’s working in overmode, probably hysterically switching to your double circulatory system as if you were above water, but even as the need to surface for oxygen intensifies, you only swim harder.

Being ten, you’ve only ever heard of the Bat through vague gossip. Even then, discussing the matters of vigilante ship the Bat counts as treason, and the risk of getting one’s head beheaded has stopped most of the gossip from circulating. But what you do know, is that the Bat is one of the few human ships that have actually had interactions with your race before. He knew some merfolk on a name basis, you heard.

That’s quite a feat. No self-respecting mer ever gives out their name without trusting the other.

The water is thundering against your ears, but you hear it. A yell. 

Even if you don’t sing as well as other girls your age, your sense of hearing is impeccable. You think you’ve mistaken it for an unusually loud howl of wind, but you hear it again.

“Jason!” 

You glance up, just out of morbid curiosity. The water is rushing, your heart is thrumming, but for a moment, all you can hear is the crash as a body falls into the water.

The body isn’t that much bigger than you, but you’re not supposed to carry anyone with you lest you break off your coral and lose your source of light. That’s why moving large objects and other live beings are left to those who are of age, who use their glowing tattoos instead to illuminate the way. 

You glance fervently around yourself. Humans only last mere minutes underwater.

Everyone is already gone, terrified at the sight of the Bat—there is no one around. When you glance back up, terror climbing up your throat, you know. You need to save this human otherwise he’ll die.

You risk the harpoons, the weapons—death. You risk death, because you’re only ten, and all you’re really thinking is as you get closer, is that the body isn’t as big as you thought it was going to be, and you ignore the pain of the coral ripping off the back of your hands as you shove them under the human’s armpits. 

His legs are woefully useless as you drag him through the water, going for the surface. The sound of yelling is even louder as you get closer, and you feel your gills close up as you break the surface.

You gasp for air as soon as it’s available, water running down your face and dripping into your mouth. You spit out all the salty water because it’s dirty and disgusting and who knows what’s in there, and you try to get the human to do the same.

His face is ice-cold to the touch, but you ignore that as you unceremoniously shove your fingers into his mouth. Please don’t bite, you beg, please don’t bite—

He gags, choking, and water spews out of his mouth. Your tail is working so hard to keep both of you afloat amongst all the waves, and the fatigue is getting to you. Someone screams from above, on the boat, and you see the glint of metal, and the aim of a harpoon.

You’re screwed. 

“Wait—” the human splutters, reaching for you, “wait—!”

The harpoon locks onto you. 

“Let go of him!” the man behind the weapon bellows, his aim unwavering. “Jason! Can you hear me?!”

The human gurgles, and all the energy he had earlier suddenly begins to leak away. The cold must be getting to him.

You don’t have time. So you act, almost subconsciously, and you rip the heatstone off of your chest and tie it haphazardly onto the human’s neck. He startles at the warmth, hissing at the feeling, and your eyes lock.

His eyes are blue, you think. The problem is that your coral barely functions above water, and all you have is lightning to illuminate the world for you, so you only have the quickest of all moments to try and gauge what he looks like.

The flash of white all you get, and you see. His face. 

He sees yours too. It’s all within a millisecond.

He sees you, and he reads your expression. He reaches for you, arm outstretched, but you dodge, and you know your time is up.

“Wait, no, don’t—”

You dive. The human on the ship yells again, but your human yells back, and that gives you enough time to swim the hell away from the surface. There’s the unmistakable thunk of a harpoon shooting after you in the water, and you squeeze your eyes, waiting for the pain.

It doesn’t arrive. You keep swimming forwards, even as you expect for the pain to shoot up any moment and for your tail to stop working. 

You keep going. It’s almost pitch-black in the water now, no bioluminescent coral to light your way, and you fumble through the currents to try and head down. The warmth that all children should get from their heatstone is gone, and you feel your arms lock up first from the cold, and then your hips aren’t as flexible anymore.

You keep going though. You just keep. 

Going.

When you wake up, it’s to Mistress Talia al Ghul staring down at you with her emerald green eyes. You instantly shrink underneath her gaze, but you realise that it’s not the eyes of someone who’s about to sentence you to treason. Instead, she’s almost evaluating you through visual analysis.

“She went to the surface,” one of the Elders hiss, “she should be executed!”

Mistress Talia looks at you. Through you. You feel like those green eyes are seeing something far more than just the hunch of your shoulders and the blue chill of your skin.

She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a heatstone. It dangles, in the water, the heat pulsing tantalisingly. You almost reach for it, but you remember your place.

Mistress Talia smiles, coldly and arrogantly. With a single swish of her tail, she’s right in your face, and you hold your breath and she leans forwards.

The heatstone lands gently on your sternum as she places it over your head. It’s a much better quality than the one you had gifted the human, and you almost instantly warm up.

“This is a gift,” she says to you, “and you will gift me your loyalty in return.”

“Mistress!” one of the Elders exclaims, scandalised.

“She saved one of the Bat’s sons. He is now indebted to us, and it is thanks to this child.” Mistress Talia turns around to subdue the Elder with a glare, and even you shiver underneath its power. “My father would agree with me.”

“But—!”

“You.” Mistress Talia turns back to you, and you straighten. “You’re a strong swimmer.”

You are technically faster than the rest of the mer your age, but that doesn’t really mean anything when age doesn’t matter in serving your seniors. “Relatively, ma’am,” you correct.

Her smile widens. “You will do well. I will check on you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, because that’s the only thing you can say in that situation.

“You have good judgement in saving the Bat’s son. My father and I will have high expectations for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Dismissed.”

You don’t know what that means. So you sit there, brows furrowing, when the woman realises that you’ve obviously only ever been educated in the ways of music and nothing else.

Her lip curls up in what you can only describe as terrifying. “Tomorrow, you will report to Moon. Class begins at high tide. Do not disappoint.”

You can only nod. She tilts her head, as if looking through you again, eyes flitting down to the hearthstone on your chest for a split-second before she’s looking away. 

“Dismissed. That means you leave.”

You nod again, this time more fervently. Then you leave.

The thing about humans is, they are curious.

They’re the ones who initiated contact in the first place, concocting suits that can withstand the high pressures of lower waters, with fins attached to their feet to swim faster and stronger. Myth goes that the original relationship between humans and mer was tentative, but amiable, and they spent a few decades exchanging information and technology. Your coral was used to create magnificent artworks—or so they claim—and for medicine, and their above-water rocks were the precursors to the heatstones you have now. 

Then the relationship soured, but you can kind of understand how the friendship first arose because your human is unbearably endearing.

“Uhm,” the human says, awkwardly, waving at you from where he stands on the shore, “thanks, er, for meeting me. Here.”

You stare up at him, still in the water. Only your eyes are above. 

“So,” he continues, barreling on despite the lack of response, “I’d, er, appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to. Uhm. Anyone. You might run into like, Dick or something. B doesn’t know I’m here—he’d absolutely blow it if he found out that I contacted Talia first. So. Yeah.”

You bat your tail a little harder, and more of your face rises out from the water. The human brightens at the motion. “Hi!” he cheers.

“Hi,” you say, tentatively.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” he repeats, and shuffles a little closer, dropping into a crouch, “I just wanted to return this.”

He holds out your heatstone, perfectly polished as if new, thrumming with heat as if it didn’t battle the icy waves of a storm. When you push your shoulders out of the water to reach for it, his expression falters when he notices the new one you have on your chest. 

“Right,” he murmurs, as you take the stone out of his palm, “you have another one.”

You inspect your old one, the warmth flooding into your fingertips. He must’ve taken care of it well; it’s been weeks since the storm, but it still has its heat which needs to be replenished using a soft source of heat like a vent. You know humans have fire, but that would do nothing but damage it. Still, he’s managed to find a way to keep it alive and in good condition too.

“You’re the son of the Bat,” you say aloud, flipping the stone in your hand. 

“Jason,” he corrects. “Jason Todd.”

When you look up, his big blue eyes are round and imploring. For some reason, the way he looks at you warms you more than the stone on your sternum. You’re always told that humans view your kind as exotic, never really regarding you as intelligent beings with the same mental capacity as them. But the way Jason Todd looks at you—well, you feel like suddenly he’s waiting for you to tell him what to do.

“Hand,” you order. He holds it out almost immediately.

Very gently, you place the heatstone back into his palm, your fingers brushing against his skin. Now, no longer in the water, his touch is warmer than yours, and he shivers at the chill of your fingertips as you close his fingers around the stone.

“A gift,” you assert. “A thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” Jason protests, but doesn’t pull away, “you saved my life.”

“You saved my life,” you say pointedly, and then reach further. He freezes, blue eyes wide, and you touch his shoulder. His tunic covers it up, but you’ve always been good at detecting even the most miniscule movements with your lateral line. 

He reaches up, almost reverently, to touch his own shoulder. The edge of his tunic shifts, and you see the bandages underneath, stark red blotting the white. He rubs it subconsciously, peering curiously at you as he asks, “How did you know?”

“I heard a harpoon,” you explain, “but I didn’t lose my tail. And,” you add, with a flicker of a smile, “you favour your left side.”

Something amused dances across his face. It suits him. “You’re quite the detective,” he says, and then laughs, as if there’s an inside joke that you’re not privy to. “I just didn’t want B to shoot you. He gets a bit tense when one of us falls in.”

“His sons?” That’s understandable. Last you heard, the Nightwing—the ship belonging to the Bat’s eldest son—had almost gotten shipwrecked after chasing a rowdy pirate crew. You think you’d be pretty stressed if your kids were running around, hot on the trails of an illegal crew. 

“Well.” Jason tenses. “Sure.”

You raise an eyebrow. He beams back at you, completely erasing the earlier tension, and he gently covers your hands with his. It’s a tentative movement, giving you time to withdraw, but you let him hold your hands, curious to see what he’s going to do.

Entertain him, Mistress Talia had ordered. Keep him happy.

“Anyways,” he says brightly, demeanour completely changed, “I just wanted to say hi. And thank you.”

“And introduce yourself,” you say with a smile.

“And introduce myself,” he agrees. “It’s my first time talking to a mer, you know that?”

You tilt your head. “Your brother?”

“Dick? I see him like,” Jason shrugs, “once a year, if not. He’s too busy being angsty and chasing down Deathstroke or whatever. But sure, I stand corrected—this is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with a mer.”

“This is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with a human,” you offer, just to make him feel better.

He grins. “Cool. So we’re like, human-mer besties.”

“Besties,” you echo, because you’re still not up to that in your human slang education. Master Moon is more about dissecting human carcasses and analysing their anatomy, so your knowledge of human culture mainly comes from mythology and folk stories. 

Jason hesitates. “Look, anyways. It was great to talk to you. Good to place a face to my mysterious saviour, right?”

“Yes,” you nod, “thank you.”’

“Uhm!” Jason grips you a little tighter, as if afraid you’re going to slip away. “Are you, er, free any time this week?”

Time flows different for you than humans. Your kind follows the tide, the pressure altering and the waves changing, whereas the humans follow the sun. The rise and the fall, the change in light. Your week, your day, even your hour looks different to theirs.

“I can make low tide in two days,” you tell him. 

He tilts his head to the side as he thinks, nodding to himself. “Okay, great. Great, I can make that. Can we meet here?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Can I…get your name?”

He looks so sweet, face round, eyes wide, and expression so excited to start this new relationship. You can help but smile, a laugh bubbling out, and you nod.

You tell him your name. He repeats it, as if it’s the name of a deity.

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” he says, grinning, and then he shakes your hand like a true human does. “See you on Thursday.”

“Thurs-day,” you try to repeat, but it only makes his laugh at your attempt at the foreign word. 

“Thursday,” he corrects.

You pinch your face together as you try again. “Thursday.”

“Yeah, like that. Hey, not bad!” He smiles at you, and you realise.

Maybe not all humans are that bad.

Jason and you get into the habit of meeting habitually, although the intervals vary so much that you can’t really call it “regular”. He says it’s because he’s travelling with his father on the Bat, claiming that they’re just merchants who travel across the sea, but everyone knows its because they’re chasing pirates left, right, and centre. You once asked why vigilante ships weren’t arrested, when they were technically acting as pirates themselves, and Jason had just shrugged.

“Maybe they’re too fast,” he suggests, grinning.

You had rolled your eyes, flicking water into his face with your tail. 

At some point in your meetings, it had turned from entertain him to let’s hang out, and even Mistress Talia frowned when you said you were visiting Jason again. Still, she valued keeping a relationship with the Bat, and so begrudgingly let you swim upwards—you were careful to tell Jason not to meet up more than once a week. He had been disgruntled, mainly because the two of you mainly met in bursts and had longer periods away from one another, but he never pressed.

That’s the thing about Jason. He respects your boundaries, perhaps far too much. He never tests anything, always waiting for you to give him a sign of sorts, like the first time he inspected your coral.

“I remember them breaking off,” he murmured, eyeing them carefully, “did it hurt?”

It did. But you reply, “No.”

Jason’s always been quite sensitive to you and your pain. Initially, you had thought it was because he felt indebted to you, but you’ve come to realise that it’s because he’s just a bleeding heart on the inside. As gruff as he likes to be, waving things off like his shoulder injury or when you disturb his sleep cycles to meet up, he never shies away from being indignant about others’ grievances.

So he gives you a look when you reply, a tight frown as if he knows you’re lying, and instead tries to soothe the phantom pains with warm fingers of his own. 

Each time you meet, you get pulled out of the water a little more. Each time you meet, he gets pulled into the water a little more. It’s a funny thing, the way Jason pulls up his pants to sits on the edge of the pond, and the way you pull yourself up to sit beside him. Your iridescent tail shimmers besides his pale legs, and sometimes you bat at him playfully.

He never kicks you in retaliation, but he does roll his eyes and shoves your shoulders. Never hard enough for you to fall over, but the few times when you wobbled, still unused to lack of resistance in the air, he’d gently grab you to stabilise you.

His touch was always warm. You liked that about him.

“So,” Jason says, one day, “I heard that mermaids sing.”

You can’t help but make a face. 

“Oh, so no? I heard you guys sound super nice though.”

“We train and practice,” you agree, “but I’m not very good at it.”

Jason nudges your shoulder with his. It’s healed from the harpoon wound, but you know that there must be a scar. You’ve just never asked to see it, and Jason’s always kept his shirt firmly on, even as he sometimes swims besides you. “I doubt that,” he protests, “you’re good at like, everything.”

“I can’t sing,” you mumble, lifting your tail out of the water to pat the surface. The smacking sounds fill the small cavern. “I’m much better at swimming.”

“Oh yeah, shit, B was telling me—you could keep up with the ship and everything. That’s impressive.”

You grin, proud. “Yeah?”

Jason smiles at you, something soft in his expression. “Yeah. B says he hasn’t seen a mer so young keep up before.”

“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied, “good.”

Jason reaches out, and you automatically thread your hand into his. He traces the scars of where your coral was ripped out of your skin very carefully, before circling around your new coral that glows green, the colour of royalty. You remember the tense argument Mistress Talia had raged through with the Elders, who were convinced a child like you didn’t deserve the symbols of a higher class when you obviously didn’t have the blood. No one, though, wins in an argument against Mistress Talia.

“So what do you do if you’re not that good at singing?” Jason asks, before raising a finger. “Not that I believe that—you probably sound like a fuckin’ angel or something and you’re just being humble.”

You think of your Head of Music, her wince every time you had to sing alone, and you just give Jason a look. “I sit in class, and learn from Master Moon. Then I hang around, I guess.”

“Do you get to swim?”

Sometimes, though, Jason has moments of insight that have your insides clamming up. Sometimes he looks at you as if he knows you’re only trying to please him because Mistress Talia said to, or maybe as if he knows you’re trying to prod more stories about the Bat because information about the Bat is scarce underwater. 

“Yes,” you say, finally.

“But not as much as you’d like to,” Jason deduces. “What, they think girls can’t swim?”

“Biologically, we aren’t as strong or as fast,” you shrug, “and those who train in swimming shape up for combat. I doubt I’ll ever be combat-orientated.”

“Combat-orientated. Huh. But what does that have to do with being able to swim?”

“I swim,” you object. “I swim a lot.”

Jason gives you a flat look. “When are you free next?”

“Next…Wednesday? It’s in eight days.”

“Hey, you’re getting good at the days,” he praises, grinning. He pats your hand comfortingly. “Yeah, it’ll be next Wednesday. Look, we’ll be on the move, but I think I can convince B to swing ‘round. What if you swim with me?”

You look pointedly at his legs beside your tail. “You can keep up?” you reply, dryly.

“Oh,” Jason’s grin widens, “you’re gonna love swimming beside me.”

“Yeah?”

He nods definitively. “Yeah.”

“I’m looking forwards to it,” you say, genuinely, and you pat his hand back. He beams at you, and you almost attempt to shield your eyes from the bright light known as Jason Todd. 

“Time’s up,” a voice calls, and both of you stiffen. You pull your hand away, and Jason sets his expression into a terse frown as he leans back, palms digging into the rocky ground. One of your seniors, another loyal subject of Mistress Talia, surfaces, and his sharp, golden eyes flit between the two of you. “Sun-chaser,” he adds, tightly.

“Henchman,” Jason snipes. Every time he clocks a threat, typically the senior who comes to escort you back, his tone because sharp and his eyes narrow into thin slits. 

“Jason,” you admonish, “be nice.”

He shrugs, but the corner of his lips is pinched. You reach out, pressing your fingertips to the edge of his mouth, trying to ease the tension. His eyes blows wide, face immediately going slack, and you smile at him once the tense lines are gone.

“It’s bad for your face,” you scold. 

“Yeah,” he replies, distantly. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Sun-chaser,” your senior repeats, this time firmer.

You sigh, taking off the shawl that Jason always brings you, and slip back into the water. You minimise the splash so you don’t get the clothing wet, and you wave cheerily at Jason as you drop beneath the surface. He lifts a hand, waving back, small red dots on the palm from how he was leaning on it against the rocks.

“Don’t get too attached,” your senior warns you, leading you to the exit. 

You don’t reply. You decide to focus on counting down to Wednesday instead.

Bruce Wayne, the captain of the Bat, is, you decide, one of the most terrifying men ever to exist. 

You can kind of see why he and Mistress Talia have…such a relationship. They're both terrifying in their own ways, and together, they'd most definitely be unstoppable.

“Call me Bruce,” he says, shaking your hand firmly, “it’s nice to meet Jason’s favourite person.”

“Favourite mer,” you correct, before you can tell yourself to shut up.

Bruce Wayne’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “You’d be surprised. Anyways, he’s just preparing for drag surfing. There’s good wind today, you’re in luck.”

You tilt your head, curious. Bruce Wayne currently stands in a small ship, nothing like the massive Bat, with a golden word etched on its side. Robin. You’re pretty sure it’s a type of bird, so you’re not quite sure how it’s suppose to translate into sailing, but you know better than to question Bruce Wayne himself. 

Compared to the Bat, which bobs just behind, the Robin is tiny. Absolutely miniscule. If anything, it looks as if it can handle no more than five people onboard, whilst you’re pretty sure you could live on the Bat and get lost in its many decks. 

“So, just let me say,” Bruce Wayne starts, “I want to apologise for shooting at you the other night. It was dark, and in my experience, foreign merfolk grabbing my sons hasn’t turned out all that great. But Jason tells me lots of good things about you, and it only makes the guilt build further; please, let me give you my sincerest—”

“B! Holy fuck, shut up, please?”

“Jason!” you exclaim, looking up to where his voice had come from. He waves from where he stands on the Bat, ignoring Bruce Wayne's muttered ‘language’.

You brighten at the sight of a familiar face, only for your face to morph into horror as Jason jumps from the top deck of the Bat, aiming straight for the Robin.

Before he can face-plant and possibly kill himself on impact, he latches onto the rope that keeps the Robin attached to the Bat, flipping acrobatically to land easily on his feet. “Jay,” Bruce Wayne says, suddenly very tired, “please do not jump without being attached to a harness.”

“I’m fine,” Jason waves, before crouching down to grin at where your chin rests against the edge of the boat. “Hey there, bubbles. You excited?”

“You fly,” you say, wondrously. “You fly through the air.”

He puffs up, flicking your nose affectionately. “Oh yeah. On land, we humans have our own tricks.”

“Technically, it’s in the air,” you point out.

“Whatever,” he dismisses, “semantics, semantics. B! Grab the board, c’mon, c’mon.”

Bruce Wayne sighs, as if he suffers from this kind of treatment from Jason all the time, and shuffles around to grab whatever ‘the board’ is. You watch in amusement as he finds some kind of wooden plank, handing it to Jason who handles it with ease, ruffling Jason’s hair in the process.

“B,” Jason complains, moving to flatten his hair. “It’s already like a nest, don’t make it worse!”

Jason has naturally curly hair, the kind that makes you want to run your hands through it continuously. He likes to groan about how it gets intensely tangled with all the wind and the salt, but you privately think that it makes him look stunning. Makes him look like a true sailor, or whatever means a true man of the sea.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the wood. “You’re swimming with that?”

“It’s not swimming, per se,” Jason clarifies, showing it to you. He gently grabs one of your wrists, bringing your hand to feel the smooth surface. “I’ll be surfing instead. Bruce’ll sail the boat, and he’s a really good at catching the wind, so he’ll maximise the speed so I don’t fall in. Hopefully it’ll be fast enough for you!”

“Surfing?” 

Jason grins, an identical glint to his father’s shining in his eyes. “You’ll see. B, you ready?”

“Always,” Bruce Wayne replies, reaching to undo the knot connecting them to the Bat. “Is Alfred ready?”

Jason cups his mouth, hollering up to the Bat, “Alfie! Are you good?”

An elderly man peers over the edge, and he squints down at you all. You stare up at him, and he waves. “Happy whenever, Master Jason!”

“Alright!” Jason grins, dropping into a crouch right in front of you. His nose almost touches yours with how close you are to him. “Are you read to swim to your heart’s content?”

Your heart feels so warm and so full that it could burst apart. It doesn’t, but it’s a near thing, and instead, you just nod eagerly and reach for Jason’s hand.

Your fingers lace together, and he gives you a gentle squeeze. His grin softens into a smile, and he presses his forehead to yours. 

Bruce Wayne clears his throat from behind. Jason rolls his eyes, pulling away, giving your hand one more squeeze. “Ignore him,” Jason mutters, “he’s just a salty old man. Oi, you really think you can get Robin moving? Maybe we ought to get Dick back so he can teach you how to operate his boat.”

“I’m the one who taught him how to sail,” Bruce Wayne raises an eyebrow, “and I’m the one who taught you. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that you still haven’t beaten me in a race yet.”

“You’re blessed by the fuckin’ wind gods,” Jason snarks back, “it’s unfair when we race!”

“Language,” Bruce Wayne corrects. “Now, are you going to surf or not? You’re wasting time with your friend here. Boring her, probably.”

You want to tell them that you could sit here, elbows and shoulders rested against the edge of the ship, and watch them interact for the rest of the day. The two of them operate with such familiarity that it’s almost hypnotic—this, you realise, is true family. Mistress Talia is probably your closest parental figure, and even then, you’re wary to call her anything that resembles ‘parental’. 

“Oh yeah, shit,” Jason says, barreling on even as Bruce Wayne mutters ‘language’ again, “we need to get you swimming. When was the last time you swam?”

“I swam here,” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s a dumb answer and you know it,” Jason says, pointedly. “When was the last time you felt like you had exercised your tail?”

You hesitate. That’s enough for him.

“Of fucking course. B, c’mon! You always say exercise is good for health, both physical and mental. Let’s help out here.”

“Rope yourself,” Bruce Wayne orders, tossing Jason a coil. With dextrous moves, Jason loops the rope around his waist, securing it tightly even with his wooden board tucked under his arm. The rope linking the Robin and the Bat together slackens, and Bruce Wayne reaches up to unfurl large sails. 

Almost immediately, the ship begins to move. Being a smaller ship, the Robin starts to drag ahead of the Bat, wind catching in fabric. 

Jason grins, running a hand through his curls, glancing out at sea. Then he glances back down at you. “You ready?”

You smile back, and dive backwards, spine arching. The water splashes over your body like a home welcoming you back, and you beat at your fins with apprehension. The boat hasn’t gained any momentum yet, so you swim circles around it and splash water playfully at Jason.

When you finally surface for air, gills still closed, Bruce Wayne has both his eyebrows raised and Jason is cheering. “You’re fast,” Bruce Wayne notes.

“Don’t knock me into the water when I’m on the board,” Jason calls, as the boat starts to pull away, “else you’re gonna have to save me again!”

You wave in acknowledgement, before ducking under the water again to feel the rush of the warm water against your skin. Being close to the surface, sunlight penetrates the water and colours it a vibrant blue, and you watch in awe as the coral on your arms beam in bright colour. The water runs through your hair, and it sends tingles down your back.

The Robin doesn’t take long before it catches speed, and you resurface to catch sight of Jason jumping onto the edge, reaching out to feel the water flow through his fingertips. He completely at ease, totally in his element, and you realise that you’ve never actually seen him like this, always meeting each other in small caverns or caves. You think you like this kind of meeting instead.

Jason cups his mouth like earlier, and hollers your name. Almost instinctively, you draw closer to him, and he beams down at you as you arrive. “Let’s go!” he yells, and he holds up his wooden board.

Then, without so much as a fanfare, he drops the board onto the water, jumping simultaneously. His feet land steadily on the wooden board, and the board instantly skips across the surface of the ocean, and his hands hold onto something like a metal bar connected to rope. It keeps him tightly in contact with the Robin, and he lets himself fall behind the boat as he gets pulled along. 

You slow to watch him, eyes tracking the way the board skips across the water. It wobbles, extremely unstable, but Jason manages to wrestle it under control with an expression of deep concentration. Once he stabilises, he gives his bar a tug, and Bruce Wayne throws an arm back in response. Another sail unfurls, and the boat speeds up.

Jason yells your name again. He’s grinning, shining like a beacon, and his blue eyes sparkle with excitement. 

You smile, ducking under. Within seconds, you’ve reached him, and you flip onto your back to be able to look up at him. Side by side, you swim and he surfs, and he grins down at you, even letting go of his bar with one hand to wave. 

You wave back. He calls down to you, “Let’s race?”

He must read the apprehension on your face, because he throws his head back into a laugh that wracks his entire body, almost throwing him off balance. You panic, instantly ready to catch him if he falls, but he rights himself quickly and tugs the bar again. 

Bruce Wayne looks back, confused, and Jason makes a few signs with an arm above his head. The man understands immediately, and he throws back a thumbs up. “See?” Jason says, looking back down at you, running another hand through his curls. You try not to get distracted by the movement. “B can go faster. Can you?”

“Don’t get cocky, Jason,” you warn. “I’m a mer.”

Jason’s smile turns sharp. “I’m never cocky. Let’s see who tires first—you or the wind. What do you say?”

You stare up at him. The sun bakes him in a white-yellow halo, and at a certain angle, he’s too blinding to even look at. This, you understand, is Jason Todd.

“You’re on,” you say, finally. “Don’t cry when you lose.”

Jason’s laughter follows you as you drop underwater, and you lose yourself in the satisfying flexing of your tail. The sun beams down on the two of you, and you race ahead, gunning for the Robin. 

For a moment, all you can experience is this race. The race under and above water, the race into sunset. 

What’s most memorable, though, is when the wind calms, and Bruce Wayne declares the two of you both winners. In the end, none of you had really tried to get ahead, always maintaining the same speed. Jason helps you aboard, the familiar weight of his shawl resting onto your shoulders, and he ensures that you’re comfortable with cushions against the wooden seats so the grain doesn’t rip at your scales. 

Bruce Wayne, you come to realise, is a kind man. He truly cares about his son, and you can see it in the way that he caters to all of Jason’s needs before Jason himself even knows he needs them. He reaches for freshwater and presses it into Jason’s hand as soon as Jason mentions he’s parched, and he cards his fingers through Jason’s curls to rid them of as many knots as possible. He loves his son. 

Jason, though, doesn’t seem to notice any of that as he fusses over you. He periodically reaches overboard to fill a cup with saltwater to hydrate your scales, gently pouring it over so none of it spills into the boat. He keeps a hand laced with yours, as if you’re disappear, and the three of you converse until sundown.

Leaving is the hardest thing to do. You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed the day until it was time to leave.

“Please let Talia know that we’ve very much enjoyed your presence,” Bruce Wayne tells you, “and that we’d like to formally invite you to come over regularly.”

You blink up at him. “To swim, sir?”

“Just Bruce,” he corrects for the umpteenth, but he smiles, “and for anything, really. It has been a while since mer and human were able to converse together like this—it would be a pity for you and Jason to grow apart because you haven’t found the time to meet.”

“Right.” You nod, because interracial diplomacy was very important. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jason drawls, “he means that you’re a nice person and that I don’t have enough friends. So it would be great if we hung out more, or something.”

“Jason,” Bruce Wayne says, taken aback, “it’s not that you don’t have enough friends, but living on a ship—”

“My life is on the ocean,” Jason asserts, tone sharp, as if this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. “That’s fact. I don’t care about life on land, B. The sea is all I need.”

It might be a trick of the light, as the sun continues to lower, but you swear Bruce Wayne gains at least ten years of age in a single moment. “I know, Jay,” he murmurs, “I know.”

Jason shrugs, looking away to you, hand squeezing yours. “You need to go soon?” he asks, quietly.

“Yeah.” You look down at the water, as if one of your seniors will pop up out of nowhere any second. “Soon.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you,” Bruce Wayne announces, an air of finality to his words. “Again, thank you very much for coming and entertaining us. We would love to see you again.”

Entertaining us, his voice echoes. Entertain him, Mistress Talia orders.

Your back stiffens. “Yes, sir.”

“B,” Jason says, lowly. 

Bruce Wayne raises up two hands in surrender, standing up and walking away to the stern of the boat. He tugs on the rope that links to the Bat, probably making sure it’s sturdy, and it gives you a brief moment of privacy with Jason as he’s gone.

“Hey,” Jason murmurs, brushing a thumb over your knuckles, “you enjoy today?”

You smile. “Yes.”

“Come again?”

You reach out and brush a finger across his cheekbone. “Yes.”

Jason beams, leaning into your touch. “Great. Amazing. Well, do you happen to know when you’re free next? Or is it ‘cause you’ve taken a whole day off today that it’ll be a while before you’re let out?”

Sometimes, Jason is too observant for his own good. “Mistress Talia will contact you,” you promise. “Don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry,” Jason says. “That’s a fact.”

“You have many facts in your life,” you reply, going for levity. 

It doesn’t work. Jason just shrugs, and says, “Well, yeah. I love the ocean, and I love you. You’re my best friend. Those are facts.”

“I love you too,” you echo, “you’re my best friend too.”

Jason smiles. “You fucking better.”

“There’s a ship! It’s inbound! There’s a ship!” 

Something akin to deja vu rattles your bones, but in a way that is foreboding and morbid. You snap your music scores shut, ignoring the weary sigh of your music director, and you swim right out of the room and run into the courier.

“It’s the Bat!” the girl bemoans, “he’s come to kill us all!”

Last time you saw Bruce, he had been weighed down by the repeated fights with Jason about something called ‘work-life balance’. You didn’t really understand their culture, but you offered an ear for Jason and a sympathetic voice for Bruce. Still, he didn’t seem murderous at all.

“Hey,” you hiss, grabbing her roughly by the shoulder so she doesn’t throw herself at the first person she sees and starts screeching in horror, “pull yourself together. Did they say where the Bat is?”

Her eyes are blown-wide, and real fear clutches at her. Your throat goes dry. “They say he’s wearing the uniform—the uniform of the Bat. He has come to kill us all.”

The Bat wasn’t the original name of the ship. Bruce had admitted to you that it was once called Martha, after his mother, but after his parents’ deaths at the hands of rogue pirates, he had rebranded it and worn an anonymous uniform to get revenge. But since taking in his sons, he’s decided to put the uniform away, and instead toe the line of legality in terms of chasing pirates. 

If Bruce had taken out the uniform…

You don’t want to know what that means. You have to be there when he arrives.

Your music director yells your name. “I know you have an arrangement with Mistress Talia,” she snaps, “but you must return this instant—”

“Sun-chaser,” Talia orders, appearing at the end of the wall, “beside me. Now.”

Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

“When was the last time you saw Todd?” she interrogates as the two of you speed out of academy grounds, tone icy. She’s never talked to you like this before, and you keep a healthy distance. “Did he seem well?”

“Jason was fine,” you reply, bemused, “a little stressed, but what teenager who lives the majority of his life on a boat isn’t?”

“Now is not the time for jokes,” Talia barks, “tell me the truth. Was he troubled?”

“Troubled? No—”

“Then you stay here.” Talia stops suddenly, and she grips you so tightly it becomes painfully. “I do not want you in there.”

“In where?” you demand, because if there’s anything you’ve learnt from Jason in these past years, it’s how to challenge authority. You channel your inner Jason Todd as you square up, trying not to wilt underneath Talia’s sharp glare.

“My Beloved is not in a good state,” Talia says briskly, as if she wants to get out of this conversation as soon as possible, “and I do not believe he would want anyone to see him like so. Stay here. You will know when I call for you.”

You open your mouth to ask for clarification because you are currently under water, where no human can actually survive, but the thundering bellow of “Talia!” has you freezing at that very spot.

Bruce Wayne is underwater. In your underwater kingdom.

“Fuck,” Talia whispers, and she shoves you roughly to the side, trying to hide you behind a nearby building. “Stay there,” she orders, before her voice is being yelled again, and you catch the sight of a wraith in black storming across the seabed. 

“What did you to do him?” Bruce yells, consumed by rage. “What did you do to him?!”

“Beloved, I—”

“Did you get her to lure him in?” He says your name, and your blood runs cold. “Was it all a trick? Was it all to seduce my son?”

“Beloved—”

“Tell me it wasn’t you!” he roars, and now you realise where the fear surrounding the Bat comes from. You can’t move. “Tell me you had no hand in my son’s death!”

Death. Was he troubled? Seduce. When was the last time you saw him?

“I had no hand,” Talia says calmly, placatingly, not at all surprised that a human can breath underwater, “in fact, I didn’t know until after you knew.”

“That is a lie,” Bruce Wayne snarls, “that is a lie—”

“Jason’s death is a great tragedy, beloved, I know, but you mustn’t yet that—”

“Bring her to me.” 

Talia pauses. “I’m sorry?”

“Bring her to me,” Bruce Wayne commands, and it is with a tone so cutthroat that you’re pretty sure he’d kill Talia right then and there if she didn’t obey. “Where is she?”

“I don’t—”

Jason’s death. Jason’s dead?

Subconsciously, you had drifted out from behind the building and the movement was instantly clocked by Bruce Wayne. His head snaps over to stare at you like a predator, and he stalks over like you’re the reason why Jason died. 

Jason died? When? How?

Just last month, he had saved some of that Northern Continent delicacies for you to taste. It had been unbearably sour, but then he had a cup of sugary water ready, because Jason was always prepared like that.

He’s…dead?

“You—” Bruce Wayne hisses, but his voice breaks in the middle, and it sounds less furious and more anguished. “I—you—he—”

“Beloved,” Talia cuts in, tense, and she shoots you an expression that says get the fuck out of here, “please, let me make you some food or drink, you’ve spent days getting here—”

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, throwing her hand off of his shoulder. He stumbles over to you, movements clumsy against the resistance of water, and you can’t help but reach out to stabilise him like the many times he had helped you above water. “Please,” he says, looking at you, something irrevocably broken on in the inside, “please, just tell me, did you—did you love—”

He breaks off. He can’t continue. He just grips at your arms so hard that you know you’re going to bruise, waiting for you to do something. He’s almost begging with his eyes.

“Jason,” you say slowly, “died?”

The fractured expression on the man’s face shatters. “You don’t know,” he says, breathless, “you don’t know.”

“When, Bruce? When? How? Bruce, where is he? Where is he—”

With the entirety of his chest, Bruce Wayne lets out a wail so painful that you fall to your knees alongside him. His shoulders shake, eyes rimmed red, and he clutches at you as if you could bring Jason to him. 

“Shh, shh,” Talia hushes, running her fingers through Bruce’s hair, reminiscent of the way Bruce would do it to Jason. “Deep breaths, beloved. Make good use of that charm you have.”

The heatstone against your chest burns. Suddenly, all you want to do is rip it away and scream for Jason to come back so you could use yours, the one that you share.

Bruce whispers something, voice too hoarse to make it audible. He tries again, and you lean closer, and you realise he’s saying your name.

“He loved you,” he says, so full of grief and pain. “He loved you. Did you…love him?”

Love. You’ve known Jason for approximately five and a half years, which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that long. But you know, deep down, that Jason meant a whole lot more to you than anyone else in this world.

“I do, I do,” you press your forehead against Bruce's, “I always will, I always will.”

Bruce nods, frailly, void of all his earlier energy. Now, all you can see is a father grieving his son, and your heart starts to crack. “You loved him,” he repeats, “you loved him.”

“Bruce,” you say, firmly, “is he…gone? Truly gone?”

The man shudders, and he collapses in your arms. He forehead lands against your knees, and he sobs. 

You know now. Jason Todd, your best friend and the one human you will ever love, is gone.

come chat to me here!・next part

[cupidsworstcrime]

was editing my octopus merfolk!simon fic and was INSTANTLY plagued with orca gaz thoughts ...

Kyle is sleek, massive, and playful—his black-and-white patterned skin shimmering under the artificial lights of the tank as he breaches with a showman’s grace, then glides silently beneath the surface. He’s the star attraction of the marine research program, adored by children and tourists alike. But behind the glass, behind the smiles and claps, he’s watching you.

Every day, you slip into a wetsuit and laugh through routines, toss him fish, stroke the curve of his jaw like he’s just a very smart animal. But he’s not. He’s sentient. A predator.

And lately, he's been getting restless.

He circles closer every time you enter the tank, bumping against your legs under the water, purring deep in his chest in a sound that’s almost a growl. The scientists say he’s bored. Agitated. But you know better.

He’s in rut.

He can’t speak like humans do—or at least he chooses not to, but the hunger in his eyes when he corners you against the tank wall? That speaks volumes. His hands—webbed, claw-tipped, surprisingly gentle—grip your thighs as his enormous body presses close. You can feel the swell of his cock unsheathing, thick and slick and foreign beneath you, emerging from a slit low on his pelvis. Heavy. Veined. Dripping.

You try to push him back, laugh nervously, whisper his name like it’s going to stop him—but he just rumbles, deep and possessive, and pins you there. His pupils blow wide, mouth open in a grin that shows sharp rows of predator’s teeth.

You're soaked—water, adrenaline, arousal. You shouldn't want this. You can’t—but you're grinding against the thick heat between your legs like your body’s starving for it.

Gaz clicks, low and sweet, like he's comforting you.

Then his cock presses up, thick head sliding against your entrance, and—

Well.

Who are you to deny the ocean’s apex?

[dark-moonlust]

Deep desires Part 1

Pairing: merman x fem human reader

Summary: you live on an island and while snorkeling, you get swept away by a merman.

Warnings: island vibes, reader lives on the island, emotional/internal conflict, toe-curling kisses, sharing breaths to breathe underwater, mating bond and bite, nickname (little pearl).

Hello Moonlust crew! I am so excited to share this with you. It’s a slow-burn story and I hope you’ll like it as much as I do.Slow updates here on tumblr, full access on Patre0n. Anyway, happy reading!

You loved the ocean. You loved it so much that you didn’t care that you struggled with your stubborn snorkel while your flippers smacked against the weathered wooden dock. The island was your sanctuary, a place of peace and beauty. Today was your quiet solo escape, your chance to have a date with the sea. Work had been hectic lately; it was summer and the high peak of the season, with tourists crawling everywhere.

You needed this. A salty escape from the world with only the waves and the coral reef's beauty.

Now, you were dangling off the edge of the dock, halfway between the sun-kissed planks and the glittering sea beneath. The sun beat down on your back, warming your skin. Despite your best efforts to rinse your mask, the glass mask had already fogged up, your snorkel bent at a weird angle, making it hard to breathe. Taking it off, you adjusted it for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Just when you thought you had it under control, one of your flippers slipped off your foot, plopping into the crystal-clear sea. You grumbled, leaning over the side to look into the sea, where the flipper floated lazily just out of reach. The ocean danced lazily, its waves lapping against the wharf.

"Damn, float closer to me," you mumbled, stretching to retrieve your flipper — losing balance and with a loud squeal, you fell in.

Splash! 

Cold, salty water engulfed you.

You plunged deep into the water and disoriented, you swam upwards. The waves were stronger than they appeared, causing your limbs to go in all directions except the correct one.

And then— hands. Big hands. Strong hands.

They wrapped around your waist and yanked you with ease toward the surface. You broke through, gasping, but before you could say anything else, you felt restrained—enclosed in someone’s embrace. Definitely not in the casual, lifeguard-rescue manner. No, this was a full-fledged hug with arms locked, your back pressing against a very hard chest.

Frantic, you wiggled in the unfamiliar hold, and as you turned to meet your rescuer, you realized— he wasn't human. Oh, sure, he looked and was shaped like a guy. He was dark and handsome, with shining blue-green eyes that contrasted beautifully with his toned face. A straight nose, full lips and black hair with electric-blue highlights, some strands sticking to his forehead.

But as your eyes darted, you saw it all: his sleek, iridescent skin shimmered under the water. Broad shoulders tapered toward a muscled chest covered in the faintest opalescent scales. And beneath the waves, where legs should be, a long muscular tail flicked leisurely, keeping you both floating.

A merman. A real merman. 

And he was hugging you. Tightly.

"Uhm—" your voice cracked. "Hi?"

“You fell." His voice was deep and slightly gruff, as if he wasn't used to speaking out loud. "I caught you."

His grip around you did not weaken.

"Yes. That's —uhm… thank you for catching me." You tried to squirm free, but that only brought you closer to his hard chest, forcing your palms to touch his shoulders. His skin felt warm despite the cool water, sending shivers through you.

"Why did you throw yourself into the sea like that?"

"I didn't throw myself in— I fell," you muttered, and he blinked, his eyelashes wet with saltwater. Another shiver ran through you, this time all the way to your core. Oh, hell. That was unfair.

“Please, let go of me,” you said, scared of the sensations he was invoking.

"You are soft." His fingers pressed across your spine, exploring with slow curiosity. You weren’t wearing much, just your favorite blue bikini, and he was roaming his big palms all over it. "Very soft."

"Hey—hands!" You splashed at him, but that only made him chuckle—it was a rich, dark sound that sent more delightful shivers down your spine. Damn. You were attracted to a freaking merman. You needed out. Immediately.

“Please,” you mumbled, even if your heart shouted no.

"You're in my territory, little human." His tail coiled loosely around your legs, the massive muscle brushing against your thighs.

Alarms rung in your ears.

But again, your heart whispered that it was all okay.

How strange…

“I am more than eager to leave. Thank you for helping me out —” you gasped, because his hands were now caressing very close to your ass. "Hey! Stop copping a feel."

His grin grew, pearly teeth flashing. "You are mine, little pearl."

“Pearl?” you stuttered, but before you could form a reply, he claimed your lips. His mouth was warm and soft, brushing against yours. You moaned against him, and he growled softly, his tongue parting your lips to slip inside. You opened your mouth obediently, your fingers burying in his hair as he devoured you, giving you his breaths.

Bodies pressed flush together, you could feel the rapid pounding of his heart against your own. You were shy and tentative, but he was patient, his tongue gliding in your mouth. Tasting, exploring— his lips and tongue incredibly smooth, his breath tickling your nose, causing butterflies to dance in your stomach.

Again and again, you shared breaths until he drew back and looked at you once again.

Then, abruptly, he dipped backward, taking you with him. You cried out at the sudden flip— it was like a dramatic dancing move. Water lapped at your throat, then surrounded you completely as he dragged you underwater. Deep in the ocean, he held you tightly.

Good God! You were gonna die— choke—

Wait a dang minute. You were alive. Breathing quite finely.

Endless blue encompassed you, the water spreading eternally, the rhythm of the sea thumping like a heartbeat. Schools of colorful fish glided in the distance and coral reefs spread out in all directions. You floated weightlessly as you marveled at the sheer beauty around you.

"You're safe.”

You stared at him, your heart beating erratically.

“Wait!” you said, gasping loudly because you could talk perfectly as well. “How the hell—”

“My kiss, little pearl,” he explained, a small smile on his face. His fingers brushed your spine with a feather-light touch.

“You —this— too much— please will you let me go?” you asked, wiggling in his embrace.

His grasp tightened, causing you to groan. “No. You are mine. I’ve finally found you, mate.”

“M-mate? I’m not your mate.”

“Yes, you are,” he drawled, his tail coiling again, keeping all of you perfectly tucked against him.

And, as if all that had happened to you so far weren’t already the strangest (and oddly the hottest, your heart whispered back) things to happen to you— he nuzzled your neck. You felt his warm tongue tasting you and bit back a whine. His full lips brushed over your pulse, and you felt a slight scrape from his teeth. A moan was torn from you, your arms clutching him for dear life.

“Hey, that hurt!”

“Mine,” he whispered, suckling your skin softly, taking away the ache of the sting.

Fixated on your neck, he leaned down, his tongue tracing a path along your jawline. The sensation was electric, with thrills traveling down your spine and heat pooling low in your belly. You whimpered and clutched him tighter as his lips and tongue moved down to your collarbones. His tongue lingered on the edge of your bikini top, caressing the fabric and you bit your lips again, swallowing another whimper that wanted to escape.

You refused to accept it, even to yourself, that your pussy was soaked. All because of his presence and touches.

Every fiber of your being was reacting to him in ways you couldn't explain. It was all because of him—and he wasn't even human. It had to stop. It was insane. You were going insane.

“Hmnn— wait— we shouldn’t be doing this. I can’t— need to go back.”

"You might come from the land," he said against your skin. "But there is salt in your blood. You belong in the sea, little pearl."

You had no idea how to respond to that. Your brain was short-circuiting, torn between panic and the intense need to spend more time with him. Oh, what was wrong with you?! Then, as if sensing your predicament, he laughed— such a smooth, husky sound.

"Fine, little pearl. I will return you to your dock," he said calmly.

“Really?” Your voice quivered, betraying the conflict within. The reasonable half of your mind yelled that this was impossible and that you did not belong underwater with him. But the other half, the one that was deeper and more primal—told you to be brave and give him a chance. Darn it, the merman seemed to thread himself into the very fabric of who you were.

"You fear the unknown," he studied you. "But don’t you feel it? The pull. The connection. You belong here, Pearl, with me."

You shook your head, your hair swirling around like a halo.

He nodded slowly, his arms releasing their hold, and for some reason, you felt the greatest loss ever.

As if he could tell, he returned one hand on your waist, leading you back to the surface.

As you soared, the pressure of the water subsided, the world above becoming visible once more. The shore was close, the waves pushing you toward it. Closer and closer. Your chest ached with emptiness as he thrust you to the surface, his body partially submerged in the water, his blue-green eyes settled on you.

"There," he whispered. "But understand this: you are mine. The water will always call to you now. And so will I."

You stood there, water lapping at your face. You felt so sad and your heart raced, not from terror, but because you realized you didn't want him to leave. He had awakened something in you, something warm and precious, and the mere idea of returning to the shore was like leaving a piece of yourself behind.

"Wait!" you said, over the roar of the waves.

But he was already gone.

[mandragoraeart]

just a censored faceless squidja and our favourite mola mola hehe ;)

[jaythes1mp]

Hi can you please make a yandere batfam meeting a merfolk reader or what your headcanonns on how that would go especially if reader is willing to stay and maybe even help with the more aquatic stuff of vigilante work

Definitely! This is some general stuff, a link to the chapter once I’ve written it will be added at the end. If everyone could please cast votes for what you’d rather before I start writing it, would be great!

Anon, I know your initial ask wasn’t really a request, but I want to write this. Haha… hope you don’t mind.

Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader

In the early stages of your involvement with the BatFamily, when their obsessions with you are just beginning to form, they would seek out your assistance in their crime fighting endeavours. This is under the assumption that you’re already a well known vigilante of sorts. Their obsession growing after they encounter and become acquainted with you. Learning of your skills, and how your kind can help them if any villains were to take their fight to the water surrounding Gotham’s edges.

But once the Bat's obsession has matured into a deep, twisted fascination, they would never allow you near the battlefield. Their possessive nature would take over, and they would be unable to bear the thought of you being hurt or even fighting others. Even if you were incredibly powerful, their protective instincts would render it moot the moment they have their possessive grasp on you, effectively ending your crime fighting days.

However, if you were not affiliated with any vigilante work from the beginning, the BatFamily would never even entertain the idea. Their fixation would target you on a personal level, rather than the dynamic of needing crime fighting assistance.

They might encounter you under various circumstances, such as: (numbered 1,2,3,4.)

By chance along Gotham’s shores, accidentally stumbling upon you.

You were caught in a trap, leading to your capture and confinement at Wayne Enterprises research facility. <- my favourite

One of the Bat’s had suffered an injury that sent them plummeting deep into the waters of Gotham, but just as they’re about to loose consciousness you swim them up to the surface. Saving them.

Or you may take the initiative on your own accord, reeling in one of the batfamily for either help or sustenance. The rest of the family coming to the rescue only to learn that you’re non threatening, and that the chosen member is cuddling into your side.

They would grow unhealthily fixated on you. Attached. Every aspect of your appearance and your mysterious species would fascinate them. The thought alone that you could survive in the harsh dangerous waters of Gotham without Bruce’s high-tech equipment ever detecting your existence baffling them. This would spark a curiosity turned obsession that would drive them to uncover everything about you, no matter the cost. Their intrigue shifting into a deeper, twisted form of love.

Initially, they would design a high-tech enclosure for you at the Wayne Manor, meticulously crafted to provide everything you need to thrive and more. Which you willingly enter, unaware that you’re under their watchful eyes, who monitor your every move, their fascination growing.

Under the vigilante route, where you’ve allied yourself with the family, you would move to the manor to discuss and plan out operations aimed at capturing and stopping a villain who was terrorising the city. Your presence there would foster a bond between you, as they relied on your skills and knowledge to aid them.

Voluntarily travelling there to discuss plans and strategies to combat with the villain and future perpetrators who has target Gotham.

Versus the ‘found’ routes, where you’d go because you trust them.

1 & 4 -> You would go to the Wayne Manor intrigued and fascinated to explore an entirely new place. Having only known of Gotham’s currents before, the thought of learning about human culture piques your interest. Contrary to the ominous warnings from the Elder Mers, these humans have been nothing but kind. They haven’t tried to harm you in any way, neither confining you in cages nor cutting you up to consume you, nor taking your scales. The Elder Mers must have misled you! The BatFamily is proving to be nothing but sweet and welcoming. What’s the harm in staying with them for a little while? You’re sure your clan won’t even realise that you’re gone.

2 -> You would either have no choice in the matter, as you were considered the Wayne’s property under the public’s eyes, Or you would leave under a negotiation with one of them. Desperate to escape from the constant scrutiny of the scientists who eye you as nothing more than a piece of meat. Their tests leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable, had become unbearable, with the small transparent tank doing nothing to offer you comfort or refuge. A public spectacle being observed daily by prying eyes. You’d do anything to never have to become an experiment for these humans ever again.

3 -> They would invest months, devoting themselves to understanding your life, gradually winning you over with their kindness. Persuading you to reciprocate their efforts by visiting the enclosure they had meticulously designed specifically for you. You were fascinated by their accomplishment, having built a structure that seamlessly connected to every room within their manor. Slowly you visited more often, their efforts touching you deeply. They had created this for you. Maybe humans weren’t all bad…

Whichever route you take, the end result is the same; they become deeply, unhealthily obsessed with you. Having them hold you captive, their obsession transforming into an intense, lasting fixation. They would have no intention of ever letting you go, keeping you confined in their carefully crafted webs, for the rest of your life, never permitting you to escape their grasp. Their desire for you becoming all-consuming, forever entrapping you within their influence.

Please vote for which of them you’d like to see most!

Romantic or platonic? Tell me in the comments or anon asks, please.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Magician Asra Masterlist

Maybe It Was Fate

-when Asra's on one of his travels, he meets reader.

(first meeting.)

[monstersholygrail]

HIMBO MERMAN?! SOLD!!!

RAAAAAAAA. RIGHT!!!!! UGH FUCK! I love a good Himbo monster. They’re the best.

The moment Himbo Merman sees you on land he mistakes you for a creature of the deep ocean. Now creatures of the deep ocean are said to be the most lovely, breathtaking, and cherished creatures of the ocean.

Due to the cold of the deep waters, not many survive down there. So not only are they rare to spot but even more rare to mate with. When there is a mating, that merperson is seen as the luckiest of males or females to have found such a mate. Mates of the deep ocean are doted on, fought over, and worshipped.

Beyond their sheer beauty, their bodies are lusted over. Merpeople having gone feral over the possibility of feeling one of these creatures beneath their palms. In order to weather the cold, their bodies are plump with the most beautiful layers of fat. The curves and rolls that fill their wide frames are akin to the most gorgeous seamounts. It is the most lovely sight a merperson can witness to see a creature of the deep ocean bare, their perfect bodies exposed to them in all their glory.

So the moment Himbo Merman sees you taking care of the nearby Lighthouse, he grows confused. You shouldn’t be on land where anything could happen to you. No, you needed to be in the ocean where you’d have a whole pod of merfolk to see to your every need and protect you.

Himbo Merman was always close with the old man who lives in the Lighthouse. He never thought someone as kind as him would’ve ever taken a creature of the ocean and kept them on land to live as a human. A sense of betrayal flickers in his chest and it fuels him to do something.

He may not have his pod with him to protect you but you have him and he’ll do what he must. He’ll save you. Take you with him to his cave and make sure another human can never harm you… and not once does he ever consider that he’s about to kidnap a human.

[slightly-knot-insane]

HIIIII OMLL BUT LIKE IMAGINE merman × Fem reader where the merman washed up to the sea and reader takes care of him at her home and studies him bc she's never seen a merman before then during that reader touches a part of his tail and he thinks she's initiating sex and you can do whatever you want with that 🫶

Dehydrated

[ m!merman x fem!reader ]

content: nsfw, praise, blowjob, p in v, squirting

Walking by the sea has always calmed you down. Especially far away from the hot tourist spots, when the sun sets and the shadows grow long. You are a local, so you know many hidden beaches. But you never expected to find one of the merfolk unconscious on one of them! You heard legends of them, but you never believed any of those fairy tales. But even after rubbing your eyes, there was a pretty merman in front of you. And he seemed unwell. Maybe he laid on the beach in the sun for too long.

He is also unexpectedly tiny, barely the length of your forearm. But his physique isn’t childlike. He simply looked like a small adult man - a doll-sized merfolk. 

"Are you okay?" you ask him, but he doesn't respond, his face and scales alarmingly pale and flaky.

With no one around to help you, you pick him up like a sleeping child and start walking toward the sea. You put him in the shallow water and splash him several times. Nothing, still out cold. He seems a bit heavier, though.

You aren’t sure what else he could need, but you are also scared of going back home so late at night - your phone battery is also almost empty. So you decide to take him home immediately, while there is still some light left.

Once you're in your apartment, you place him in your bathtub, because that seems the most logical action. You run to your kitchen to get some sea salt and mix it with the tap water, filling your bathtub. The merman is still out cold, but his lips quickly regain some colour, which is good news. You let your bathtub fill up to his face, making sure he doesn't — drown? Can merfolk drown? Are they more like fish or marine mammals? In any case, you need to change out of your wet clothes.

Once you return to the bathroom, you scream. Instead of a doll-sized person, now there is a huge merman lying in your bathtub, his tail too long to fit the bathtub, and his elbows almost touching the floor tiles. Did he grow? How so? How so fast? But at least he looks so much healthier. He is still asleep, though. You can't hear him breathing, but you can see his gills moving slightly. He looks content.

You approach him to admire his iridescent scales. They are so beautiful, so shiny. You glide your finger across his side to feel their texture, and you explore their edges and curves. And then you find... a slit, of sorts. It is also covered by scales, but in a different pattern. You try to see what is underneath it, and touch a fleshier kind of body part. Suddenly, a webbed hand wraps around your wrist. A wide-awake merman looks at you and smiles with a rather toothy grin.

"I'm s-sorry...", you utter in shock.

"That's okay," he replies as he pulls you onto him. "You saved me and you are curious. Let me introduce myself."

He turns your head toward his not-so-empty-anymore slit. An eel-like phallus, far more flexible than any dick you've ever seen, emerges and bends toward you. You were curious, but not that curious. Or maybe... But you weren't given a lot of time to think - the merman pushes your mouth on his cock.

"I will teach you..." he huffs as his wriggling cock explores your mouth, "everything... you want... about merfolk... Just... aahhh..." He shivers as you actively start sucking him off. "Such a good human... yes... good girl... I will teach you everything to be a good merfolk fucktoy."

Soon, you end up naked in your bathtub, intertwined with a merman you rescued only hours ago. He fucks your mouth, your tits, your thighs. Once he reaches your pussy, he fucks it so good, so hard, you squirt all over him. He is utterly shocked.

"Oh fuck... oh, I'm sorry... it was just so good," you apologize, shaking from your orgasm.

The merman takes you by your hips and, with dark mirth in his eyes, growls: "Again. Beautiful human liquid. I want it more. I was just getting dehydrated again."

Your new roommate stays with you for several days. He quickly learns how to make you squirt. Hard and long. He enjoys it far too much to ever let you leave his embrace without getting him all wet. Even after he recovers and returns to the sea, he insists that you regularly visit him so that he can exit the water to fuck you on the beach and see you climax. And, after your every passionate beach date, you both make sure to rehydrate.

[specshroom]

BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

"How much longer?"

Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.

"Not much longer."

You curtly reassure him.

You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.

That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.

"This is your stop."

You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.

He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,

"I...payed for the full trip."

You shake your head solomly,

"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."

You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.

"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."

You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.

"You can't do that! We agreed!"

He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.

The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.

"What choice do you have?"

The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.

"Is that enough for you?"

He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.

You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.

Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.

His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.

From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.

You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.

After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.

You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.

As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.

You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.

Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.

You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

Some more of this!

[hopesangelsprite]

Deep Blue Sea

Pairing: Siren!Illumi x Human!reader

Summary: Among the vastness of the seven seas, nothing has caught Illumi's eye. . . until now.

Warnings: yandere content, mentions of death/drowning, human consumption, manipulation, kidnapping

Credit to @cokecolacokecola for the art <3

Viewer discretion is advised.

Siren!Illumi who steals you away after his pod wrecks your cruise ship and devours everyone on board. He'd intended to eat you as soon as you had fallen into the water, eyes empty as he continued his song, but decided against it after taking a closer look at you. You were a healthy-looking female, perfectly round and soft with attractive features. You'd make a better mate than you would a meal. So, he places you on a small, uninhabited island with enough life to sustain you but not provide you the resources to get away. Besides, he'd recapture you almost instantly in the event that you did.

Siren!Illumi who spends the next few nights convincing you that he's a real merman and that he'd found you floating on the wreckage of your ship miraculously spared from the fate your fellow passengers had met. He speaks softly, his language broken and accented as if your speech is unfamiliar to him when in reality, he's old enough to remember when it had first been heard on the seas. He gains your trust further by bringing you fish he's caught as well as some other trinkets from the sea floor far below. You accept them with thanks not realizing they're basically proposal gifts, a sign of reciprocated affection when taken from a giver, where he comes from.

Finally, he gives you a crown made of pearls, seashells, and coral bound together. You take it happily, not knowing you've basically sealed your fate. The next day he comes to visit he tells you he's spotted a rescue ship and that he's willing take you to it. You're unsure at first, scared that the sirens he's been lying warning you about will attack the both of you before you can get there. He promises to protect you, however, even going as far to brandish a large trident he's brought with him for the occasion. You agree after a moment of consideration gathering all your things in a makeshift rucksack before joining him in the water as he swims backward to give you room.

Siren!Illumi who reveals his true nature as soon as you're knee deep in the water, wrapping a webbed hand around your ankle and pulling you beneath the waves. As the haze of bubbles and sand clears, you're met with the massive, terrifying sight of him as he pulls you deeper into the sea. His eyes, darker than the depths he's pulling you into, stare up at you behind a curtain of inky black hair. His long, serpent like tail undulates in the water to propel you further away from shore.

As you whip around in a frantic attempt to free yourself from his steely grip, you see something swimming towards you that is far more horrific, however. A small group of sirens approaches you, clawed and webbed hands outstretched with unhinged jaws ready to snatch you away from him. Before they can, Illumi coils around and unhinges his own jaw to let out a series of sharp clicks. They retreat at the sight and sound of him almost instantly, and you begin wish they had taken and eaten you as your descent into the depths resumes. In a last-ditch effort to escape this wicked reality you've found yourself in and grant relief to your burning lungs, you inhale violently and start to drown.

Siren!Illumi who's attention is brought back to you, eyes no longer scanning his surroundings, when he sees the bubbles begin to rise from your throat. He doesn't stop though, doesn't try to rush you back up to the surface to save you. His expression only sours lightly, and he halts his descent to watch your life force float away with the last of your air bubbles. A low, annoyed chitter sounds from him as he continues swimming lower, only stopping once he's located a small cave opening among some large pillar like rocks. He navigates deeper until reaches a smaller opening leading to a chamber with an air pocket. He pushes your body in first, pulling himself inside the bioluminescently lit space with his upper body.

Siren!Illumi who clicks disappointedly at your state begins rummaging through the rucksack clenched within your fists. He finds the crown he'd gifted you, carefully placing atop your head before beginning to remove your soaked and tattered clothes.

After all, he wants you to be comfortable when you awake a siren a few days from later.