#i have a merfolk weakness

[blujayonthewing]

there are two wolves inside of me, one wants to do fun cute little mistletoe doodles and the other one wants to draw canon!merfolk melliwyk getting harpooned by a merrow

#dm: the merrow reemerges from the depths and since melly turned into a mermaid it's gonna attack her cause merrows hate merfolk #me: LMAO OH YEAH!!! EXCELLENT #shapechange ring that only lets me be weak sea creatures BUT includes merfolk is essentially #'you can use an action to gain a swim speed and 11 temporary hp' #which I only ended up doing once in this fight but I'm glad it payed off in this lil flavor moment haha #dm: can you still cast spells while you're shapechanged? #me: yeah as long as the body you're in could-- I can talk and I have hands and I kept my wand on me so #dm: ... huh. that item might be more powerful than I realized when I made it. oh well not like I don't give you OP stuff all the time #I mean I've had it for like five real human years and this is the first time Being A Mermaid has ever been relevant lol #PLUS mel has a bunch of other concentration spells she can't use if she's concentrating on Shapechange so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #....... the wolves fighting over I want to draw are no match for the adhd beast deciding I'm gonna distract myself making a post dfjhfgdkjh #about me #my OCs #melliwyk

[wafflesex]

Have a doodle of mama Leech because I still can't decide how I want her to look!! ✨

Also have some headcanons I created for her just because:

Name: Viridia Leech Age: younger than she looks Height: ~7ft in human form, ~14ft in mermaid form Likes: her family, negotiating, high fashion, spontaneity Dislikes: shrimp Appearance: Elegant, charismatic, but by no means delicate, she is a gorgeous mermaid with olive eyes and long, wavy teal hair. As a human, she stands just under a half foot or so from her husband and prefers to wear long dresses, pant suits, and sun hats when on land. Her nails are always sharp and lacquered, her lips painted red, and on both ears is a pair of studded sturgeon scale earrings to match with her boys. Personality: Described as a bit of a worrier, Jade and Floyd's mother keeps in contact with her sons every day while they are on land. Her messages are often brief (except on birthdays) and in her refined manner of speaking, she even refers to her sons as "Mr. Jade" and "Mr. Floyd" (for security purposes). It is clear she misses Jade and Floyd dearly and frets over their well-being, though of course she has every reason to given the nature of their family's work. To Viridia, her children are her "treasures"; every bit as rare and precious as the gems they were named after (fluorite and jadeite, respectively). There is absolutely nothing she won't do to ensure not only their survival, but also their happiness. She notoriously spoils them with luxurious gifts, expensive clothes, and fancy accessories the likes of which most merfolk never see. To that end, Viridia is a fiercely protective mother and while she trusts her son's abilities, she won't hesitate to rip apart anyone who dares to lay a hand on them.

Similar to Jade, Viridia's kind exterior belies her manipulative nature; she is excellent in communicating and connecting with people and therefore adept at learning their weaknesses. Sterling, her husband, often relies on his wife's approachable demeanor when handling his most complicated clients. Patient and poised, she acts with the precision of a surgical razor to get what she wants.

#twisted wonderland #twst #oc art #my art #floyd leech #jade leech #mama leech #her name follows the same color naming conventions as her sons #viridian being a shade of green #I hope I can draw papa leech too #yes she calls her sons her treasures because I say so

[coralinnii]

❋If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice❋ ↳ reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy aka villain/ess au part 2 feat: Jade genre: drama, partners in crimes-to-partners in love?, slow burn romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy" Jade ver., no pronouns used for reader, some actions are ethically questionable (Jade and reader are just up to no good),

part one series masterlist

You cursed the lovey-dovey fools who drone on about the bliss of married life, fondly speaking of the joy and romance that leads to the big day and beyond. With the right person, life as someone engaged to be married would be a dream come true. 

With the right person, that is 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have that pleasure when you’re faced with the man you happened to be engaged to; the mysterious Jade Leech. 

“You seemed to be very occupied with something.” With a quizzical look, you asked the teal-haired heir as he sat at his study desk. While you exaggerated, there was a sizable amount of papers atop the merman’s desk, with names and locations you recognised as you managed to glimpse upon the reports. “Am I allowed to inquire about the mountain of reports on your desk?” 

Unperturbed, Jade gave you his well-practiced smile. “Of course, I would never hide anything from my wonderful betrothed” 

This brazen liar 

Having chosen to willingly participate in the Leech family’s goals, you were aware of their plans to monopolize the marine-related business and operations, including taking over the coastal territories from other nobles. 

Which was exactly what Jade was currently trying to do apparently, as he had his family’s men research a baron whose territory included a lively strait between this kingdom and a flourishing island nation nearby. But the baron was an incompetent leader with an unfavorable reputation amongst the merfolk and islanders due to his actions as a businessman.

“Baron Byrne seems to be causing quite an issue in his strait as the large amount of cargo ships constantly coming through the strait is disrupting the islanders’ livelihood as well as the merfolk that made the nearby reefs their home…” 

“But since he seems to have a good relationship with the prince’s new lover, his behavior is not reprimanded by the royal family,” you continued his thoughts and let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s a greedy, impatient bastard but no one can stop him” 

Jade kept his courteous smile but you couldn’t imagine he was thrilled about any of this. Despite the human-merfolk peace treaty being established, the merfolk were used as the antagonists in this world so the story ignored their issues or crimes against them. 

“This was a romance webtoon, I supposed. No attention was given to the repercussions of the lives outside of the main leads” 

You looked through the reports on the baron’s family and you noticed a more detailed section on a certain person; the baron’s wife to be precise. You recognised the young woman as an admirer of Jade, recalling how envious she seems every time she looks your way. From what you knew, she married the baron for his new status as a noble but fell for Jade when she first saw him at a gathering.

“So you’re planning to go through the wife for information” you let out a noise of intrigued as you looked through the papers “you even found out where the salons and stores she frequents. That’s impressive but tell me, how do you plan to approach her?” 

“Oh my, does the notion of me meeting her upset you?” Jade reached for your hand to hold as he looked up to you from his seat, peering at you with convincing concern and acting like a worried fiancé, “I would never intend to hurt you in any way or give doubt to my devotion to you” 

“Firstly, don’t mock me by lying so blatantly” you sneered as you pulled your hand from his grasp. “Secondly, I agree that meeting the baron’s wife is the best way to find out about his weakness”

Jade raised his brow inquisitively before changing back into a look of worry, “Then what is it that causes such concern on your face, my dear?” 

Again, that fake term of endearment sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m only asking so I can act accordingly” you looked at the tall merman with mocking sweetness in your eyes. “Should I be the naive partner who knows nothing, or perhaps I’m grieving over the audacity of my dear fiancé meeting with someone other than me?” 

For a moment, you thought you saw a glint in Jade’s dual-coloured eyes before a look of amusement took over his face. He chuckled behind his gloved hand before smiling at you, his sharp teeth peeking behind his lips. “I will leave that decision to you, my dear. I’m excited to see what you’ll show me”

Weeks passed since your conversation with Jade as he quickly put his plan into motion, finding chances to meet the baroness by “coincidence” and gaining her trust immediately. You weren’t surprised how quickly Jade managed to befriend the smitten woman. If you were none the wiser, you didn’t have the confidence to say that you could withstand Jade’s good looks and charming persona either (it would be paradise in the underworld before you would ever let Jade know that, however).

Of course, meetings like these tend not to stay secret for long, especially amongst the high social circle. Many of the gossiping noblewomen whispered around about the possible tryst between the lovestruck baroness and the attractive Leech family heir. However, most of the attention fell to you as the supposed tragic lover of this “affair.” 

Being part of a well-respected family, you were ultimately the envy of certain nobles who would love nothing more than to pull you off your high horse, in sadistic glee in watching a family like yours be sullied. One of these nobles included the woman involved in the rumour herself, Baroness Byrne. 

“Please don’t misunderstand,” the baroness spoke with such fake sincerity, you almost laughed at the poor acting. “Sir Leech and I just get along so well that these rumours seemed to misconstrue our closeness” 

It’s almost insulting to think that this woman assumes that you can’t figure out that she was most likely the one to start these rumours in the first place since you knew Jade would try not to catch too much attention if the situation does not call for it. Despite being a married woman, you wondered if she’s hoping to break your engagement and take him for herself. 

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be in this nonsense” you scoffed internally but hid your thoughts with a maintained smile (Jade has given you some bad habits). “If she wants to play mind games, then let’s play~” 

“It’s quite alright, really. I’m not worried at all” you put on your best smile, a look of understanding displayed in your eyes. “In fact, I’m happy that my fiancé has made a friend like you, Baroness Byrne” 

“R-really?” The baroness stuttered which secretly delighted you. You hid your glee with a sickly sweet smile, however. 

“Of course, Jade and I tend to be quite busy since we often have to work tirelessly in maintaining our lands, assets, and the responsibilities we will inherit” you sighed as though life bears heavy on your shoulders “We spent so much time together since Jade likes to inspect every valuable item in my possession, taking in all its beauty and worth. He has quite an eye for such things, you see.”

You looked to the baroness, your gaze demanding her eyes to meet yours. Once she did, you curled your lips slightly to display just a hint of taunting smugness. “With the baroness, Jade can enjoy a simple and humble company without much to entice his personal interest.” 

One could almost see the steam escaping from the baroness’ face as she turned red with humiliated rage. With that, you decided to swiftly take your leave lest you wanted to get your eyes ripped out by a madwoman. 

After some time, you decided to make your way towards the carriage area to go home, you were shocked to see Jade standing outside alone. Once your eyes locked, he immediately made his way to you with an ever-present smile. Was he…waiting for you? 

No, that couldn’t be. 

“Jade, I assumed that you were still at the ballroom” Last you saw Jade, he was mingling with his brother Floyd and Count Azul. 

“Hmm, I was. But then, I heard some commotion amongst the ladies and decided that it’d be best to call it a night.” 

You made the right choice to leave when you did, then. You wanted to smile at the little chaos you caused but decided to stamp down that hidden glee. 

“Fair enough. That reminds me, you may be receiving an invitation from Baroness Byrne very soon, and it is in your best interest to accept it.” 

You seemed to pique Jade’s curiosity, though it seems that you always do. “Oh, and could you share the reason as to why?” 

“Because if she fell for my taunt, I would bet that she will try her best to entice you with whatever treasure or asset she can access.” You smirked, a sly glint in your eyes. “And hopefully you can convince her to show her husband’s warehouses where he stores the items the baron imports in, perhaps some hard-to-procure rarities” 

From what you see from Jade’s reports on the baron’s history, you’re betting that the greedy noble would be the type to obtain and sell anything that would bring him a fortune. With his focus on sea-related products, he might be acquiring and selling items from the merfolk community without their approval which is currently illegal with the peace treaty. Merfolk-specific products were now harder to obtain through human merchants which increased their value even more. 

“Pearls, mermaid scales, valuable minerals from the seabed…anything in the possession of a human who intends to sell them is grounds for punishment for treaty violation”

As if your minds were one, Jade was quick to realize your plans to trap the baron family. It was sneaky, dangerous, and if it works it would be ruining two people with no hope of salvaging their reputation. The baron would be stripped of his title and his merchant career while the baroness would be shamed for inviting an engaged man in an attempt to seduce him. Jade knew that you were intriguing, willing to act however necessary to protect yourself but to instigate the downfall of others, even if they were guilty of their crimes…

Jade can’t ever take his eyes off you. 

Still, he had to ask you something, “You seem to have quite the confidence in me. Do you not worry I will not live up to your expectations?” 

The teal-haired man expected a snarky quip from you or perhaps question him back over his competence. But instead, you furrowed your brows and looked at him adorably (in his perspective) with confusion. 

There was one thing you were sure of; Jade Leech would never get caught. No matter the situation, no matter the evidence, Jade will always find a way to slither his way out of trouble when he wants to. You were better off worrying about your own safety than his. 

“Why would I worry? You’ll never fail.” 

Your voice was so full of conviction, without a hint of doubt or hesitation. Jade felt a strange surge of glee upon hearing your answer. He found a compatible partner that never fails to amuse him. You brought new entertainment to his personal life. 

Jade let out a chuckle, a smile that almost seems genuine to you. The tall man looked to you, his mix-matched eyes staring with such unusual softness. Gently, he took your hand in his own so he could raise it to his lips where he then pressed a soft kiss upon your skin. In surprise, you locked gaze with Jade’s eyes as you felt warmth coursing through you though you played it off as uneasiness towards Jade’s strange actions. You continued to watch Jade as he kept his mouth barely touching your hand, but you could feel every brush of his lips as he spoke close to your fingers. “I will not disappoint you so keep your eyes on me, my dear.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #villainess au #twisted wonderland imagines #jade leech #twst jade x reader #jade x reader #jade leech x reader

[cod-dump]

Okay. But. What fantasy/Mythical creatures do you think the cod characters would be?? (Satyrs, centaurs, merfolk, gorgons, etc.)

Ghost as a demon or demonic entity. He has a human form but he can barely keep it from being uncanny valley so he just hides behind a mask. He can travel through shadows and manipulate them (cause a lit hallway to become completely dark without touching the lights). He doesn’t eat in front of people and those who have seen him eat are thankful.

Gaz is a vampire. He’s relatively young for one but he’s very efficient. He chooses to ethically get his food from blood banks and is genuinely grossed out by the thought of drinking from a living being, willing or not. Gaz has trained himself to have excellent self control around blood or those who are injured and considered easy prey.

Price being a werewolf or lycan or some kind of shifter. He visibly appears human and there’s little showing that he isn’t. He’s very efficient in controlling his transformations and being in control while as a beast, but he is not above blaming the wolf to get someone off his back when his temper gets the better of him. He’s very protective of his people and those he considers family.

Soap is a descendant of a Fire Giant. He’s not a full monster and he’s not in control of most of his abilities. He has an immunity to fire and intense temperatures along with an ability to control fire with his hands (manipulate an existing flame). He is not half Fire Giant or even the child of a half human hybrid, so his gift in his fire abilities is rather odd. His lack of control is a result of having no one in his life that could show him how to be in control.

Laswell is human but she’s with the occult. She has a powerful gift in magic and knows how to use it. Though there’s wonder if there’s something else in her bloodline that gave her such a gift, she hasn’t bothered to look. She is considered a monster expert, if she doesn’t know something she’s quick to figure it out. Has mastered the ‘shut up’ spell. It does exactly what you think it does.

Nik is another lycan or shifter. He’s huge when shifted, bigger than Price. And he has a complete immunity to the cold. While being a shifter is very obvious, there’s something else that no one can pinpoint. He does have a gift in magic but he’s very private about who he shows. His loyalty is fiercely towards Price but he does extend it to Laswell and the boys.

Farah is human but is an expert monster slayer. Like Laswell, Farah has a vast knowledge about monsters and their abilities and weaknesses. Is very open minded about good monsters and their existence, which is why she aims to try to figure out how to help someone before she results in killing them (if they’re worthy of help). Has mused the idea of being a lycan after Price and Nik have showed her the pros of being a creature of the night.

Alex is a human. He has no gift in magic and isn’t a gifted slayer or has much knowledge in monsters. One day Laswell just hit him with a mission that involved a pack of feral vampires and he has been lost ever since. He’s learning but there’s so much going on. Lost his leg to a lycan (is terrified of Price and Nik as a result but he won’t admit it).

-

Don’t ask how many monster aus i have now I don’t even know lol

#monster 141 #call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #kate laswell #cod nikolai #alex keller #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble

[comicaurora]

wait so from the previously published ask, sea-people can surface? I thought that they can only stay underwater, so its like they can go to trade with anyone nearby on boats?

It's not common. Only the communities in the shallows can make it up, and the ability to breathe air is a little shaky - sekrai and merfolk can breathe air in a pinch, but merfolk obviously can't walk on land. Sekrai also have a slightly unique weakness, in that they are still sensitive to the presence of elemental energies like all humans and elves, but because almost no energy other than Water is found in the deep oceans, they're chronically underexposed to anything but Water energy and thus very sensitive to their presence, and are essentially at a much higher risk of non-Water elemental corruption at a much lower threshold of exposure. Even just breathing air for a prolonged period of time can corrupt a Sekrai, leading to stories of wind-corrupted Sekrai going mad and spending more and more time surfaced, singing hauntingly alluring melodies from the shallows. Because of this whole situation, Sekrai surface infrequently, if at all, and merfolk tend to be the ones who handle surface-facing trade.

There's stories that some merfolk can take humanoid forms and walk on land, but these are mostly dismissed as legend. Nobody's asked the merfolk, though.

#asks #aurora

[mochinomnoms]

Imagine the interspecies shock when Jade/Floyd/Azul first touched human hair like maybe when they pet their human s/o and like immediately retracting their hand thinking they got under skin or something cuz of how soft it was. I imagine 'hair' in deep sea/just sea in general to be hard enough to protect their heads or like sturdy fin like consistency, easy to style and shiny but never weak.

Oooh this is an interesting take! Not my own hc personally (I think in the movie and in game their hair works the same) but I do think it has great potential!

I think Azul would be most interested in the difference underwater. He likes the feeling of brushing his hand through his human's hair underwater. It billows around them like a halo, and depending on the type of hair you have, he likes to feel how the texture changes when it's wet.

Jade is similar in that he's interested about the texture and how it feels, but he's also wanting to adorn it with hair jewelry and pins. It's a popular fashion statement around wealthy merfolk you know? If you have longer hair, he'll braid it and decorate the braid with underwater lilies. If you already have braids or dreads, then he's wanting to decorate those with small pearls and pretty fauna.

Floyd is actually the most concerned, you got nothing on your head to protect your squishy brain?? What if you bang your head on a coral reef? What if a shark comes by while he's away and bite's through your skull?? Now you got him all moody and anxious, just stay by his side only so he can protect you, okay?

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #i don't know a lot about braids or dreads but I've seen pictures of those/similar styles with beading and rings #i think jade would do something like that its really pretty!

[silent-browser]

*sigh* oh the tragic romance of a merfolk x human story. Neither can be with the other without giving up something important. Usually fins for legs. Also usually their entire family to simply love and exist with this person in a different biosphere. Rarely legs for fins if we wanna go a reverse little mermaid here.

But what if it was different. And no one had to give everything up. And maybe yandere. With a bit of soulmate shenanigans thrown in for flavor.

Imagine if you will, a walk on an empty beach. Headphones in, listening to your favorite song and sining along. Kicking up sand and the smell of the ocean air. Just minding your own business and having a good time by yourself.

Or so you think. Because not far from where you are walking a single quiet audience member hides behind some rocks, wondering why your song, your human song, sounds so similar to their soul song.

The song that they would normally perform for other merfolk in hopes of attracting their perfect life partner. But they had never garnered any attention for it.

So how did you, a weak and squishy human get them so immediately. No creature had ever been so close to repeating his own soul song back to him. And with your own little twist too. Human words and slightly different notes in his soul song. Your song. Our song. He soon found himself refering to it in his mind.

It takes a while of them impatiently waiting for your return and slowly learning your 'walks on the beach' schedule for them to finally make their move.

On the day that changed the rest of your life, you were simply walking along and humming softly to your favorite song once again when you heard the most fantastic voice start to follow along the melody with you. They matched your tone and moved their voice in such a way that it felt like an instant musical connection.

They were worried that you would stop and run away when they started but tried not to let that fear taint their song. If you ran further inland they would have a very hard time following you. Not impossible but certainly difficult. So they took your continued humming as a good sign and continued.

They began to dribble their emotions into the notes. The lonelyness. The fear of an uncaring ocean. The rush of affection they felt when they first heard you singing. The need to see you. Hold you.

Slowly, what started out as a dribble became a riptide of intense emotions they never knew they were capable of feeling. Longing. Jealousy. Want and need so powerful he felt like he would wear out his voice singing it all. By the time he stopped he was mortified that he put all of that on you. And before the first courting gift too! He suddenly felt awful. He gutted his soul when he never ment to and you weren't even singing anymore. What if you didn't want them? What if it was all too much for you? What if you left and never came back!?

You were stunned. Breathless. The emotion. The raw intensity. No words were ever sang and yet the song resonated in the very depths of your being. You felt intimidated to ever even think of humming ever again after that impromptu masterpiece. You wanted to respond but couldn't find the words to, much less the notes like they had. So you instead made your way to the shore where the music seemed to come from and searched. Looking for this person who simultaneously swept you off your feet and explained their life story in one song with no words.

Two star crossed lovers. Separated by the sea. One filled with obsession. The other with curiousity. Both wish desperately to meet and yet both are not quite ready. How strange that love can both bind and seperate. How strange indeed.

Idk where to go with this so no continuations for this one unless I suddenly get inspired. Also the end feels really jarring to me. Mostly because I originally intended for this to continue but I couldn't come up with anything so I just cut it lose. I hope you like it none the less.

#soft yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #merfolk #merfolk x reader #yandere merfolk #yandere merman #merman x reader #came up with the idea while listening to shinunoga E-wa #siren bullshittery #siren x reader #male siren x reader #yandere siren x reader #yandere siren #soulmates #but through song #because siren #gn reader #siren switchs between he/him and they/them so often

[rollinouttahere-writes]

(Don’t) Face Your Fears: Part 2

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.8k words

Part 1

This is the second part to that merfolk story I wrote before that I retroactively added a name to once I realized it wasn’t just going to be a one off.

Despite several members of his crew wanting to come with him, the river cutting through your island consisting of freshwater meant that only Luffy could go. Sure, Franky did build what was essentially a mobile saltwater pool that Luffy could use to bring some of them along, but he didn’t have it nearby and Luffy wasn’t willing to wait.

He wanted to see you again, and he wanted to do so now.

Being a bull shark had many perks, and he was currently using two of them. One being the coveted ability to swim in both fresh and saltwater, and the other being an impeccable sense of smell. It was best in water, but this island was so small that he could easily follow your trail. An awfully long trail, he noted. You are quite the runner! Usopp would have some stiff competition if you were merfolk, too.

Your unique scent came to a head, bringing Luffy to a halt. Pulling himself up onto the river bank, he sniffed the air to confirm that you were nearby. Somewhere in the house not far from where he is to be exact. A sharp grin spread across his face. He was right! You do live near the river! This will make getting ahold of you much easier.

Before he could pull himself fully out of the river, someone exited the house. Not just any person, but you. Luffy quietly slipped his upper body back into the river, leaving only his head poking out of the water.

Your footsteps drew closer, stopping slightly upstream from where he was. Once there, you dropped onto the ground and buried your face in your hands. Luffy watched curiously as you groaned loudly and scowled at the river when you pulled your hands away from your face. Is this a human thing? He’s intrigued and inches closer. Humans have awful night vision, he isn’t concerned about being noticed before he wants to be.

“I can’t believe this. Months of work wasted because I just had to run into merfolk during my first trip into the ocean,” you muttered under your breath. “What kind of stupid bad luck is that?”

Bad luck? You meeting and coming to their rescue was good luck! Great luck even! Luffy frowned at what you said. He knows he startled you earlier, but he thought it was just because you were surprised to see a merman up close.

Did you just… not like merfolk?

Why not? He can guess that he was the first merman to ever be so close to you. How could you come to dislike people you’ve never really gotten to know? That doesn’t make any sense. If you were willing to help people despite your obvious discomfort, then surely you couldn’t be a hateful person.

An idea suddenly clicks in his head. Other humans must be telling you awful things about them!

Nodding with resolve, Luffy swam even closer. When he was right in front of you, he launched himself out of the water and wrapped his arms around you. You immediately tried to scream, but he was prepared for you to do that after your last interaction and slapped a hand over your mouth.

You kicked and thrashed in his arms, and it only increased as he began pulling you into the water with him. You’re definitely not weak, he’ll give you that, but you aren’t stronger than him either. 

By the time he settles back into the water, you’re hysteric. You’re still trying to scream for help even with his hand in the way, and he can feel hot tears streaming down onto him. That makes him feel a little bad about what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to upset you, he just wants to show you that merfolk aren’t anything to be scared of.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you!” If you heard him, you made no indication that you did. You were still fighting him hard and digging your puny human claws into his arm. What were these people telling you that had you acting this terrified?! 

Luffy became distracted as he picked up on more scents and heard doors being opened. It would seem that his hand wasn’t keeping you as quiet as he’d hoped, especially not with how much you were splashing in the water. Looks like you two are going to have to leave.

Pushing off, he hastily makes his way down the river and towards the ocean. You probably wouldn’t listen if he told you to hold your breath, so he settled for swimming with you balanced on top of his chest. This was easier said than done. Between swimming upside down and your squirming, he wound up dropping you into the water.

Bizarrely, you went from doing everything to get away from him to desperately reaching your arms out to his figure and holding on for dear life. Luffy pulled you back up onto him, patting your back as you hacked up the water you’d inhaled. Much to his relief, this experience seemed to have settled you down somewhat.

You didn’t look happy by any means, but you weren’t fighting against him anymore, so he considered this a victory. Seeing that there wasn’t anyone around, Luffy decided to try talking to you again, “Hi! I’m Luffy!”

“Please don’t drown me!” You sobbed, “I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you mad, please don’t kill me!”

Drown you? Kill you??? Luffy is completely bewildered by your pleas. Sure, he did drop you just now, but that was an accident! “Whoa there, no one is going to kill you! I’m sorry I dropped you, I didn’t mean to.”

“Then what do you want from me? Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this!” 

What’s got you so damn freaked out? He doesn’t get it. How dangerous are the people around here that you’re so horrified by him? Does every new person you come across try to harm you? That must be the case. 

“I wanted to see you again! Also, I want you to join my crew! You seem really nice, so I think you’ll fit in great,” Luffy beamed at you, not paying attention to how you recoiled from his teeth.

“Join your crew?! Are you insane?! I’m not one of you!” You spat out incredulously.

“What’s that got to do with anything? We don’t mind tugging you around in a boat,” Luffy didn’t really get why you were being so argumentative about this. He already told you that he’s not going to hurt you, what’s the hold up? These other humans must really have you brainwashed. Good thing he’s here to save you from them!

“I don’t want to be pulled around on a boat in the middle of the ocean, I want to go home!” You shrieked while frantically peering around to check your surroundings.

Much to Luffy’s relief, he’d finally made it out of the river and into the ocean. Once he’s gotten you away from this awful island, he’s sure you’ll calm down and be more willing to listen. You’ll love all the other crew members after you get to know them, he just knows it! You won’t even want to go back to this pathetic island after they’ve made friends with you.

“You’re back already? Could you not- You’ve got to be kidding!” Sanji surfaced and swam straight at you two. “You really thought it was a good idea to drag them out here just like that?”

You cringed away from the new shark and looked like you were about to faint. Luffy couldn’t help but puff out his chest in pride as you clung onto him, obviously a part of you recognized that he could protect you. 

“I had to! Other humans showed up, and I couldn’t just leave them all alone there!” Luffy nuzzled his face into your hair, choosing to ignore the way you shuddered from the contact. You’re probably just a little cold.

“That’s bullshit! No one came out until after you dragged me in!”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed at Luffy, “This is why we didn’t want you to go alone, you have no tact!”

“Like you would have done any better! You would’ve just creeped them out if you’d gone,” Nami jabbed. Sanji sulked away, not even attempting to plead his case. Nami, on the other hand, swam closer to you, eyeing you up curiously. She reached out to experimentally tug on your wet clothing, not paying any mind to how uncomfortable you looked.

Chopper was the next to appear. You were definitely surprised by his appearance, but seemed more confused than scared by him. The doctor went right up to you, visibly concerned, “Luffy! You can’t just drag a human into the water like this! It’s cold enough that they could get hypothermia if we don’t get them someplace dry soon!”

You latched onto this immediately, “Y-Yeah, you should take me back to shore before I get sick!”

“Don’t worry, I got this covered!” Franky pulled a self made boat over, “It’s not much yet, but I’ve got biiiig plans for this thing.” The boat in question looked like a small house boat. There weren’t any doors on it, just an open three walled structure for shelter. 

“Oooh, good thinking, Franky!” Luffy happily approached the boat and heaved you onto it. The second you were out of his arms, you scrambled into the walled off part of it. You stared at them with wide eyes with your back pressed up against one of the walls.

More of his crew appeared, wanting to get a good look at you now that you weren’t actively running away from them. With each head that popped out of the water, you curled in on yourself more and more.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? What if other humans come after us to get them back? Don’t we have enough enemies already?” Usopp was hanging back, still skittish about this whole idea.

“Of course it is! They’re our friend now, so we’ll protect them!” Luffy pulled himself up onto the boat while you shrank back even farther. He turns to face you, grinning even wider than he already was, “Don’t worry about all those awful humans on that island, we won’t let them hurt you!”

“What are you talking about? Everyone there is-”

“Very dangerous and spreading lies about what merfolk are like! You don’t need to say anything, I already figured it out,” Luffy nodded proudly.

“You didn’t figure shit out, you maniac!” 

No one listened to you, and there was a chorus of groans from the merfolk. This was hardly anything new to them, humans always assumed the worst of them. 

Admittedly, Luffy didn’t have a long term plan for what to do with you yet, but he’s already made it this far without ever making any plans. Everything will fall into place soon enough, and you’ll learn to be grateful for his extremely considerate rescue.

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #monkey d luffy #luffy #nami #cat burglar nami #sanji #black leg sanji #cyborg franky #franky the cyborg #tony tony chopper #usopp #yandere #platonic yandere #merfolk au

[saekkas]

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

summary: rin's becoming more human the longer he's with you. he doesn't mind at all.

tags: f!reader, merfolk au, shark mermaid hybrid rin, human reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, falling in love, cultural differences, kissing.

wc: 2k

notes: i'm honestly very proud of this. i hope i did rinnie justice!

rin normally doesn't care about anything else but hunting, it's a given with how quickly he's growing. only months before his eleventh birthday, rin's already outgrown the other merchildren in his pod.

his tail is getting bigger, stronger, and he's starting to catch up to the wild orcas roaming the big blue seas which he calls home. it's a pretty thing, sleek and smooth but scaly.

black as the hair on his head with coralline blue and teal swirling up the limb, he looks like the fearsome predator he is. not only that, but his skin is also becoming thicker even his sharp nails can't scratch through them like they used to.

what he most prides in himself though, are his teeth. shark teeth are unique in the way they shred, falling out every year to signify their age. rin collects his, keeping every single one on his neck, wrapped around a long piece of netting he found near the shore.

he has ten wrapped around his neck, proudly showing off their sharpness and glimmer to anyone who passes.

the coral reefs are beautiful this time of year, they're teeming with life and growing into their colors. rin's laying among one, absentmindedly running his finger through an anemone, watching as the clown fish scatter at his motions.

the sun is bright ahead, casting a light that shines directly on him. he loves the feeling. basking under the sun yet not burning because of his skin.

minutes or even hours go by. rin can never seem to tell the time, not when the current flows through his gills. he almost falls asleep right where he is when a shadow passes up head. rin's eyes flutter open and it only takes him a moment to propel himself to the surface, his hands tightly gripping at what he assumes to be a seal.

he flinches when your scream pierces his ears. even though the sound is cloudy under water, rin moves back, letting his hands fall to his sides. his dorsal fin breaches the water as he circles you, keeping his distance before swimming closer.

only to receive a kick to the face.

rin grunts, feeling the telltale signs of a tooth shredding. he keeps it in one hand, letting his tail push him out of the water. his head pops out, bright teal eyes and messy flock of dark hair surrounding his visage. he's surprised you don't react as dramatically as you did.

rin isn't as interested with humans as the rest of his pod but he's followed enough fishing boats around to understand and speak their language.

he eyes you, stiff as a plank on your surfing board. you're a small thing, weak looking, and pruned. he wonders what you're doing out in the middle of the ocean all alone.

at first, all that comes out of his mouth are hums and growls. he's trying to communicate the best he can but when you start to lift a leg again, which rin thinks is meant to be a threat, he stops.

"are you a merman?" your voice is shaky at best, as is your entire body. your hands clench around the shells you've been collecting, ready to throw it at the unfamiliar creature. "my grandparents used to tell me about you. i didn't think you were real."

fascination replaces the fear in your eyes, and rin feels himself stiffen. you look to be the same age he is, and you have nothing to protect yourself with. he sighs internally, letting out a low chirp that you seem to perk at.

"can you talk?" you use your legs, kicking against the calm waters to bring yourself closer to him. rin leans back, cautiously flicking water at your face with his tail. you giggle at his action. "i won't hurt you. in fact, you're the one who could hurt me if you wanted to."

he calms a little at that. rin has always been the cautious one, especially with the way humans use their machines to trap his kind for amusement. he nods, pointing at you and then at himself, speaking lowly, "i thought you were a seal. please don't swim alone like this."

he dives back into the depths, only looking back at your form one last time when he hears you yell something at him. your name. rin smiles, clenching the tooth wrapped around his palm, and swims back home.

the seasons pass, the necklace around rin's neck becoming heavier as he grows. he's recently turned twenty-one yet there are only twenty pieces of his teeth dangling around his neck.

he doesn't wear the eleventh one because of you.

through the years, rin's become verily acquainted with your presence. friendship, you had called it. at first it was another accidental meeting between the two of you when he was out hunting near the shore. one thing led to another and rin finds himself too used to your laughter, the little quirks that you possess, and the differences between your worlds.

he's a full-grown shark now. his shoulders have broadened, his tail a sight to behold. he has the ability to roam the oceans, swim across the world, yet the waters feel empty without you beside him. rin has to shake the thought out of his head when he hears your voice calling out.

the waters of the open ocean ripple when you kick and slam your feet, and it has rin shaking his head. he launches himself at your board, hearing your maniacal laughter when he breaches the surface. he tips your surfboard, effectively sending you right into the water.

"that's no fair!" you push the wet hair out of your face, splashing rin when his head pops out of the water. "i never get to surprise you."

rin flicks his tail, sending a wave of water right at your face. he chuckles lowly when you splutter. humans and their need for air never seem to not amuse him.

"my brother can probably hear you at the bottom of the ocean with how loud you were being."

you snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. "i'm sure sae is comfortably unaware of my presence in his secret cave."

rin only chuckles at that, swimming closer to wrap a hand around your waist, pushing you up against his chest.

that's another thing rin has become acquainted with ever since meeting you. skin ship. the act of touching itself is uncommon among shark folk. gentle caresses and acts of service are reserved only for family or mates. with strangers and even friends, aggression is usually what he uses; play fights, hunting, preying.

and here he is, letting you touch him and take away all his time as if it were a normality.

the worst part about it? rin feels as if he wants it, needs it. he can barely spend an entire day without you, your smile and gentle touches soothe him in ways he can't understand. he hates to admit it, but sae was right. he's been too blind all this time, like a guppy threading through murky waters.

he just needs to own up to it.

"hello? earth to rin?"

his eyes come back into focus, solely fixed on you. there's a smile on your face, your feet softly kicking against the water. the sun is setting behind you, and rin feels his heart beat out of his chest at the sight.

he hums, a mere flick of his tail sending you both forward. he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, careful with his nails, and helps you stay afloat against the water.

he wonders if you can feel the thrumming in his chest against yours.

"someone's distracted today," you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck.

moments of intimacy between you are sparce but they're special, especially on days where you both want nothing but to float away in the sea. his nails, pointed and sharp, trail up your waist and settle on your lower back.

he's not sure what's making you shiver. the cold temperature or his touch.

"something special happen?"

rin nuzzles his nose against your neck, right where your gills are supposed to be if you were like him. a low rumble sounds deep in his chest, one you recognize to be a greeting. one he never forgets to gift you.

"i have something for you." his voice by your neck is low, deep as the ocean you swim in. you feel his hands roam down to your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. when they do, you hear him sigh, his dorsal fin slumping in content.

you watch with amusement, lifting a finger to caress the limb. it makes him groan, wrapping his hands around you tighter, before suddenly diving down into the depths, bringing you with him.

his movement are fast, and you try to keep your eyes open, even when the salt stings. rin does this often. most times when he's flustered or something's bothering him. today, you assume, it's a combination of both.

when he breaches the surface, you inhale as much oxygen as you can. looking around, you see that he's brought you onto a small stack of land that's covered in sand, surrounded by miles of water.

"i have something for you," he repeats, his eyes unblinking as he stares at you. "i want you to have it."

you let him open your palm, watch as he drops a necklace decorated with pearls and a single tooth in the middle.

"is this," you gasp, looking at the necklace around his neck and back to, what is now, yours. "rin. you didn't have to."

"i didn't." he nods as he says his words, now shyly avoiding your gaze. his dorsal fin stands rigid against his back, his tail anxiously wrapping around one of your legs. he's so different yet so similar to you, in so many ways. "i wanted to."

"thank you," you whisper softly, leaning over to where he sits by the edge of the water. "i want to give you something too."

"what is it?" his tail flicks against your thigh, the texture smooth and scaly, hefty above the skin. it's a weight you're used to. a weight that grounds you. "i'd like anything you give me."

there's the beginnings of a blush on rin's cheek and you silently giggle, wondering whether shark folk are always so brash and obvious with their words.

"well, i'll hold you to it."

rin hesitates, freezing when you lift a hand to his neck, gently caressing the gills on the area. he blinks, as if in a daze as your hand moves to his face, lingering on his cheek.

he's never let anyone come this close before. you've never come this close before. it feels foreign yet so much like home. he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping most of his weight on you, nuzzling his face into your hold.

he feels you lean down and blinks his eyes open when there's a gentle pressure on his lips. it leaves him tingling and he looks at you with wide eyes. "what did you do? what was that?"

"it's called a kiss." you swipe the hair that's covering his eyes away, still keeping a hand on his cheek. "it's what humans do to express their affection."

rin tilts his head, his tail coiling around your leg tighter. "you have affections for me?"

"i do," you say before laughing when he coos suddenly. he dives into the water right after, hiding his blush as only half of his head pops out.

"i have affections for you too." the sound of his voice is muffled by the water, but his excitement is clear with the way he's shaking. almost like a fish out of sea. a rin out of his element. "i liked that.. kiss too. can we do it again?"

"we can do it as many times as you want," you answer with a grin, tapping your thigh with a hand. "i can't kiss you when you're all the way there, though."

rin waddles closer to you, pulling himself onto the sand. letting his tail curl around your body, he smiles with sharp teeth as you pull him into another kiss. he can definitely get used to this.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x female reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock headcanons #rin fluff

[mymainwastoocluttered]

The Key to My Heart (Housewardens)

Reader has a secret she keeps locked in her chest. He knows he has her pure, full love when she gives him the key

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

A bit, uh, macabre. Little bit of body horror. If you know Pirates of the Caribbean... Yeah. That.

— <3 <3 <3

— Riddle

Riddle has always known of the existence of the chest. He remembers clearly the orientation day, the girl dressed in baggy cerimonial robes, holding a small chest for dear life.

He hadn't seen it after that, though. Even when he went to Ramshackle, the chest was nowhere to be seen. Even when they started dating, he would never see it. Not that he wanted to pry on her personal matters, of course, but he couldn't help but be curious.

And his patience is rewarded eventually.

The two alone in her room, Grim gone for the day, the door and windows firmly locked. Riddle knows whatever it is she'll reveal, is extremely important and must be kept a secret, and he's touched by her trust on him.

He's less touched when he sees what's in the chest she placed between them on her bed.

A living, beating heart greets him, sounding like a constant drum.

He doesn't know how to feel. He has seen hearts, of course, he's the son of great healers, human anatomy was the first thing drilled in his mind.

But still, there's just something... Something raw about it. Something... Ironically visceral.

"This is my heart," the Prefect explains. "My only weakness. This body of mine cannot die unless my heart stops."

That... makes so much sense. Definitely explains her recklessness when it comes to overblots. She can't die by normal means, no. Not without a heart.

"And this... This is the key to this chest. The only one in existence. I carry it everywhere," she shows him the old key, and he does not has the mind to process its intricate details. "But I want you to have it."

"... W–what?"

"Riddle Rosehearts, this is the key to my heart, and I want you to carry it, forever."

— <3 <3 <3

— Leona

Leona honestly has no idea what's going on. He thought the worst when his girlfriend suddenly asked him to come to Ramshackle so they could speak alone. Thankfully, she's not breaking up with him.

But the chest sitting in front of him on her bed is not making him any less confused. Specially since he can hear... Soft heartbeats coming from it? And muffled by the material of the chest is the scent of meat, fresh, living meat.

"Herbivore–"

"This is my heart," the Prefect states, nimble fingers doing a quick work of taking a heavy looking key from around her neck and opening the chest. "This is why I can't die. While this heart beats, I shall not die."

"... Why?" Leona asks instead of cursing like he first planned to. Give him a break, even he hasn't seen this amount of... Of gore. He's not sure if he's asking why her beating heart is out of her body or why she's showing it to him, and he'd appreciate either question being answered.

She chooses the second one.

"Because... It is yours. I'm giving you the key to my heart, to keep."

— <3 <3 <3

— Azul

Azul has heard the stories of sailors. Human sailors. Despite the merfolk's slow but sure integration on land, the good part of the population is still pretty wary, so he always had to sneak out to go listen the drunk sailors tell stories about gold and jewelry and treasure beyond comprehension.

So when he saw the chest on the hands of the mysterious magicless girl, his first thought was that one tale about the man who fell in love with a Sea Goddess, only to then get stuck with a dreadful job after her bitter betrayal. A man who, in his suffering, ripped out the tormented heart in his chest and locked it away.

Needless to say, he doesn't need to be given context for it when she finally shows him the chest, alone in Ramshackle. He observers the beautiful carved images on the sides, commits the texture of the wood to memory, caresses the time's scratches and bumps.

He refuses to let her open it, mentioning the tale of the sailors. He feels like he'll faint if he actually sees the fragile thing that keeps her loving existence with him.

But the key he accepts gladly. Azul will wear that around his neck until his very last days.

— <3 <3 <3

— Kalim

Kalim is no stranger to fear.

Some may think the contrary, what with his sunny disposition and optimism, but Kalim is no fool. Only fools have no fear.

And more than that, Kalim is way more aware than people give him credit for, or at least he has been working arduously to be so after being part of the reasons behind Jamil's overblot.

So when his girlfriend, his lover, his love, hands him the key to the chest where she keeps her heart, Kalim is consumed by fear.

Fear that he'll fail to protect the heart. Fear that he'll forget it somewhere and leave her vulnerable, fear fear fear

But then she grabs his hand and places the key to his hand and oh. Oh.

Oh.

— <3 <3 <3

Kalim swears on everything he has ever cherished that he will not fail at keeping her heart and her safe.

— Vil

Vil plays with the heavy key in his hands, the silence between the two thick as he processes what his girlfriend just told him, what she just gave him.

The key is honestly beautiful. A bit on the older side, but the intricate arcs of its head are elegant and, dare he say, noble. A skeleton key like none he has ever seen before. Worthy of her ethereal heart.

All his life, Vil has been playing the villain. All his life, people have feared his cursing touch. Including Vil himself.

Yet here she is, his beloved, giving him the two most important things in her life —no, giving him her life. Trusting him to guard it, to care for it. Accepting whatever he might do with it.

He could reach in and stop the beating so easily.

But instead, Vil kisses the key, and then its previous owner.

— <3 <3 <3

— Idia

Curses. Idia is particularly... Acquainted with curses. So he immediately knows.

"It's warm..." He mumbles, a finger gently touching the beating heart, curious eyes watching as it speeds up.

"For I am alive."

He'll make sure of it.

His girlfriend doesn't need to say anything else. He knows. He understands. He gets the concept. He can even go beyond his gloomy disposition and muse that maybe, maybe it isn't a curse, but a blessing, for nothing could kill you.

— <3 <3 <3

— Malleus

Malleus holds the key without gloves, even after his girlfriend warns him that it is made of iron and it shall burn his hands.

He does not care, however.

Not when this piece of iron and a wooden box are the only things between them and their life together forever. A fragile, human heart inside a box, defenseless, even a pencil could do the job. And then she'd be gone.

He feels his eyes water when she places the key in a little bag and then gives it to him, the fabric protecting him from the burns.

Her heart in the open, and all she can think of is his well-being.

He truly chose the most peculiar human to love.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

[luxaryllis]

hi!! if you're accepting requests rn could you pls write just pure angst of azul with a younger sibling who he was super close to before, but when their parents got divorced they grew distant bc the sibling went to live with their dad instead of with him and his mom. then a few years later sibling ends up attending nrc and azul recognizes them and is excited to talk to them again only to discover that they're not the same as before.

rlly loved your scared younger sibling fics. they gave me chest pains bc of how damn sad they were. keep up the good work :)

Brother Knows Best

Note: OMG!! What is this!? I, Lux, FINALLY finishing something and posting it?! Has a miracle truly happened?!

Anyway, I'll just write the sibling of this one as a year younger than Azul, and the sibling was also be an octopus merfolk. I'm going to mention the reader having interests in some stuff, so please don't get offended if it doesn't apply to you. You can always just replace the traits I put as a trait of yours!

And imma just use Ashengrotto as the family name, cuz idk if Ashengrotto was the last name of Azul's bio father, or step-father, or the maiden name of his mother.

Warning/s: Parents divorcing, Split custody, Angst, Spoilers to Azul's backstory and past, Spoilers to Azul's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Reader is mentioned to have somewhat similar features to Azul (specific features aren't specified), Tell me if I missed anything

Full post under the cut!

-----

"Big brother! Why are you crying?" A slightly smaller mer-octopus swam closer with a concerned expression.

Azul, who was hiding in an octopus pot, looked up to his sweet and innocent little sibling. The 7-year-old boy's eyes soften, and Azul knew that it was only a matter of time before his baby sibling, [Name], would go through all the bullying and teasing as well.

But Azul didn't want that. He wanted [Name]'s cute smile to last forever. He wanted [Name] to not have to see and experience the horrors of simply being themself. He wanted to protect [Name] from everything and everyone who dared hurt them.

Azul's heart squeezed in his chest as he realizes that he can't. He can't protect [Name]. Azul couldn't even protect himself! He truly was... a weak, dumb, slow little octopus...

Tormented by his thoughts, Azul continued sobbing, hiding further into the octopus pot, hiding his chubby face from his little sibling.

"Don't look at me!!" Azul cries out, accidentally spitting out ink from his tentacles, staining the waters around them. The mess caused Azul to cry even more, the ugly black liquids reminding him of what the other kids told him.

[Name] frowns softly, they didn't know why their big brother was upset. The younger mer-octopus moves closer to the octo-pot, trying to coax their older brother to come out.

"Zul-ie.. what's wrong? I don't like seeing you sad..."

Upon receiving no response, the younger child purses their lips in a pout.

"Come onnn...! Mom and dad made dinner! They made fried chicken! Your favorite!!"

---

"Big brother!! Look, look! Wanna hear this song I learned on the piano?!"

Piano keys played a gorgeous melody under [Name]'s fingers, and Azul watched with wide eyes full of wonder and pride. Azul felt a small sense of envy in him, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge the jealousy, because Azul was too proud of his younger sibling to do that.

And yet...

As [Name] learned more and more, Azul couldn't help but feel... left behind.

As though [Name] doesn't need him anymore.

But... but that isn't true right? [Name] needs Azul... right...?

As days and years pass by, nagging feelings of envy and worthlessness bubble up in Azul as he watches his sibling shine.

'I should be proud of them,' he thinks to himself as his mind wanders while he was studying.

---

'Mom and dad don't love each other anymore...'

Those were the thoughts in the two siblings' heads while they listened to their parents argue for what felt like the umpteenth time. And today, it seemed as though everyone in the house had finally had enough of the screams and shouts.

Around a month or so later, the Ashengrotto family were in court, for a divorce trial. It was a somewhat long process, but the judge's words hit the two children like a truck.

"Mrs. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over Azul Ashengrotto. Whilst Mr. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over [Name] Ashengrotto."

When the Ashengrotto family split up, Azul and [Name] were desperately trying to stay together. It went to the point that their parents had to pull the crying siblings apart because [Name] and their father had to leave.

"Big brother!!! NO!!"

"[Name]!!! Don't leave me please!!"

---

"DON'T LEAVE ME!!"

Azul wakes up with a start, sitting up from the bed with wide eyes and heavy breathing. His hair was frazzled in a bedhead, and he quickly looks around.

The Octavinelle Dorm Leader recognizes his dorm room, and breathes a sigh. Not one of relief, but one of exhaustion. Azul reaches to his bedside table and takes his glasses, putting them on as he checks the clock. 5 am.

Next to the clock, Azul sees the small picture he placed. A family picture of him, his mother, his father, and his younger sibling. It was taken before his parents had divorced. When they were all happy...

Azul stares at his younger sibling in the picture, yearning to see them again. He reaches out a bit, but stops himself and shakes his head. 'Now is not the time', he thinks to himself. He shakily stands up and starts getting ready for the welcoming ceremony of the new first years of NRC.

Azul leaves the room and passes by Jade and Floyd's shared room. The house-warden could hear Floyd's complaining through the door and he sighs, knocking on the door and speaking.

"Floyd, would you stop complaining? Jade and I have to get ready for the Welcoming Ceremony, and you and the others have to start preparing for the welcome party for our new first years."

Almost immediately, Floyd replies with a slight whiney tone. "Says the person who wasn't wrung out like a rag for some lotion! I can barely walk!!" Azul could almost hear the pout in Floyd's voice and sighs in exasperation, listening to Jade trying to calm his brother down.

Deciding to leave the twin eels alone, Azul starts to walk away and head to the Lounge to make sure the preparations are going smoothly. As he walked, his mind can't help but wander to thoughts like if he and his own younger sibling would have a similar dynamic to Jade and Floyd. Hm, or would their dynamic be more like Idia's and Ortho's? Likely not, perhaps.

These thoughts weighed in Azul's mind, and he feels himself shaking his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He hasn't seen his younger sibling for a long time; but Azul certainly hopes that [Name] didn't have such a drastic change like he did.

For some reason, Azul couldn't bear the thought of his previously happy-go-lucky and outgoing [Name] to be anything else other than such a happy mer-octopus. It was wishful thinking, but what kind of older brother would he be if he didn't wish only the best for his younger sibling?

---

When the time came for the Welcoming Ceremony to begin, the Housewardens (exceot for Malleus Draconia, who likely didn't receive the invitation, Azul thinks) were all lined in a circle surrounding the mirror, waiting for students to be sorted into their own dorms.

As each student was being sorted to their dorms, Azul takes the time to look at each student that seemed to catch his attention. None seemed very relevant thus far, maybe a few people he could exploit here and there.

"Next student!"

A student dressed in the NRC Ceremonial Robes stepped out of the crowd of the unsorted first-years. Their hood was on and casting a shadow down their face as they walked towards the mirror.

"State thy name." The mirror said when the student stepped up.

Suddenly, the student spoke a name that ran a shiver down Azul's spine. A name that Azul never thought he would hear no matter how much he wished to hear.

"[Name] Ashengrotto."

Jade raised an eyebrow and turned to Azul curiously, and some other students who recognized the last name also snuck some glances to the Octavinelle Dormleader. Azul could vaguely hear Idia's voice through the floating tablet, saying things like, 'Plot twist?!', but he paid no heed to it.

Azul's eyes were wide, and his mouth was lightly agape in surprise. His younger sibling... studying in NRC?!?

Questions ran through Azul's head in that moment. How is his younger sibling doing? Do they still like to play the piano? Or perhaps they still continued collecting those sea shells? Did [Name] still want to be a singer when they grew up? Do they still enjoy chasing their tentacles like a dog liked chasing its tail? Do they still have that same smile they always did; the one that brightened any room they were in and made their eyes glimmer like the stars land-folk liked to gaze at?

The Dark Mirror spoke again, "The shape of they soul is..."

Azul was beside himself with worry and anticipation. What dorm would his younger sibling be sorted into?

'Octavinelle, Octavinelle, Octavinelle', Azul chanted in his head, hoping for the Dark Mirror to sort [Name] in the dorm he was in.

"... Octavinelle!"

It took almost everything in Azul not to let out a sigh of relief, but he was celebrating in his mind. Suddenly remembering that he was the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, he stepped up and made himself known to his beloved younger sibling.

Azul mustered up an amicable smile (and those who knew him were rather surprised at how genuine Azul's smile looked), and spoke. "Welcome to Octavinelle, right this way please."

[Name], not having realized who the person underneathe the hood was, nodded and walked to the crowd of Octavinelle students, waiting for the Welcoming Ceremony to be over.

---

After a rather tiring Welcoming Ceremony, with an entire fire getting started by a racoon-cat-monster named Grim, all the students (save for that one student who couldn't get sorted to a dorm) were allowed to leave and go back to their respective dorms.

The Octavinelle first-years were granted a delicious meal and celebration, and were all briefed on their duties in the Mostro Lounge. The entire time, Azul kept sneaking glances at [Name], which wasn't really left unnoticed by the twins or by [Name] themself.

Azul eventually mustered up the courage to approach his younger sibling and struck up a conversation.

"[Name], it's very nice to see you..! I'm Azul, remember? Your older brother?" Azul's voice was one of slight anxiety, did [Name] eveb remember him? It has been a while since they last even heard from each other..

[Name] turns to look at Azul and nods a bit, smiling a little. "Ah, right. It's so nice to see you again, Zulie."

Being referred to his favorite childhood nickname made Azul smile softly, but he couldn't shake off the surprise at seeing the change of demeanor in [Name]. Back when they were younger, [Name] was much more outgoing and enthusiastic compared to this [Name], who seemed to want to curl up in a ball when someone else tried making conversation with them.

Not even their smile fully reached their eyes anymore. Just what had happened to his beloved younger sibling in the time he was gone?

Internally hoping that his younger sibling hadn't changed too much, Azul tried to continue the conversation. "Ah, do you.. still play the piano?"

[Name] shook their head and smiled a little sheepishly in reply. "Oh, no I don't anymore. Atleast, not as often as before. I still play it occasionally, but I don't exactly find it as fun now."

"What about collecting sea shells? Surely, you still find that enjoyable?"

"Dad and I lived in a more colder part of the ocean, and there weren't a lot of sea shells to collect. So, no, not really."

"Ahh, I see... what do you like doing nowadays, then, [Name]?"

"Oh, well..." [Name] then proceeds to tell their older brother of their interests; though most (if not all) the things the younger Ashengrotto listed were things Azul weren't very interested in.

Regardless, Azul nods in understanding, trying not to mind how much his sibling had changed.

The next few weeks after that, Azul had found it hard to approach [Name]. Why? Well, maybe it was because of the fact that his younger sibling had grown rather attached to the Ramshackle prefect and a certain trouble-making trio (Ace, Deuce, and Grim).

Azul had enough of it, seeing his younger sibling get roped into trouble from their group of friends. When [Name] had came back to the dorm with the Heartslabyul's dorm leader's collar on them, Azul had to pull his younger sibling aside to talk.

"[Name], may I ask exactly why you have Riddle's collar on you? What did your friends bring you into this time?" Azul asked [Name] as they spoke in Azul's office. Azul was looking at his beloved younger sibling with furrowed brows and a scrutinizing expression.

[Name] replied, "It's a.. long story, big brother. Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and I were at Heartslabyul's Unbirthday Party. Dorm Leader Rosehearts got mad at us and collared us and kicked us out of the party because a rule was broken.."

Azul sighs in disappointment and exasperation. He can't believe his younger sibling associated themself with such troublemakers.

"[Name], honestly, why do you even hang out with such people?! They're getting you into trouble!"

[Name] tries to defend themself, "They don't mean to! And I can't just stand by and watch as my friends suffer on their own!"

Azul starts to get a little frustrated. Can't they see, those group of 'friends' as [Name] calls them are terrible influences. It's only a matter of time before they start using [Name] for their own benefit, Azul is sure about that. After all, [Name] has always been rather straightforward in the way that they won't hesitate to help (such values were strange to see in a school like Night Raven College). And Azul knew what happened to people like that; they get exploited, wrung out like a rag, draining them out until there's nothing left to give.

If [Name]'s friends were anything like the other students of NRC (like how Azul would treat his 'clients'), it would be so, so much worse for [Name]. Oh, Azul could practically see it now; it'll start small, like helping out with homework or lending some money. Eventually, it'll be like his younger sibling got the life and kindness sucked out of them, leaving them burnt out like a poor, unfortunate soul!

And Azul can't and won't let his beloved younger sibling go through that. He won't let [Name] fall from grace so terribly like the people who've broken their end of the deal with him.

And that is what Azul tells [Name] (leaving out the parts that paint Azul as the scheming businessman he is, of course) in an effort and attempt to dissuade his sibling from staying friends with their troublemaking friends.

"Don't you see, my dear sibling? They're only using you and their troublemaking schemes would run your student record through the mud. They're getting you involved in so much drama and troubles, and as your older brother, I'd hate for you to be surrounded by such terrible influences," Azul says.

[Name] frowns a bit. Azul worded it as though they hadn't done anything wrong, which wasn't all that far from the truth, though. However, [Name] also knew that Azul was thinking that they were being dragged against their will to help out, which they weren't.

"Big brother... I'm helping out willingly, because I want to. Besides, they're my friends. Didn't the Sea Witch always help other people? We're Octavinelle students, we must always follow the Sea Witch's values."

[Name] replies. The facts about Octavinelle and the Sea Witch were things that the younger Ashengrotto used to try convincing Azul to let them go.

Azul clicks his tongue, his eyes narrowing as he pushes up his glasses that were starting to fall a bit. "Then perhaps you should try getting better, more behaved friends instead of the ones you have right now. What happened to the well-behaved [Name] I used to know?" Azul mutters under his breath, but [Name] could still hear Azul's words.

[Name] frowns at the last question. "What 'happened' is that life happened, Azul. Not everyone stays the same! I've changed!!"

Azul, however, has difficulty getting behind the thought, shaking his head in denial, "Then change back!! [Name], I want the old you! The one who'd listen and trust me without a second thought! The one who was dependent on me! The one who actually made me feel special!!"

That was the last straw for [Name]. They have grown tired of their older brother trying to keep them the same as they used to when they were a child. Can't Azul just let go of the past? "Well that [Name] is gone!! I'm independent now, Azul! I'm not a child! Stop treating me like one!"

[Name] shouts in a burst of anger, before their eyes widen, not having expected themself to actually blow up like that. Not necessarily regretting it, though, the young Ashengrotto quickly turns away and leaves Azul's office, ignoring their older brother's shouts for them to come back.

---

Azul breathes heavily as he falls to his knees, watching as his younger sibling walks away from him, closing the door behind them. The sight can't help but remind Azul of the time when he and [Name] were separated; just this time, [Name] was being pulled away by their 'friends' instead of their father.

Azul can't believe this!! Did [Name] really just walk away from him?! After everything Azul did in hopes of having his dearest sibling back?! How dare they!

How dare they change! How dare they change so much to the point Azul barely recognizes them! How dare they move on from the past so quickly, as if it didn't bother them! And how dare they even think of choosing their friends over him!

How dare they make him cry! How dare they say words that hurt far more than when those pesky merfolk would bully him!! How dare they leave him there, with tears falling down his eyes and with a heart aching for family!

How dare they, how dare they, how dare they!!

Azul takes a deep breath of resolution, his eyes narrowing behind the glint of his glasses. Never mind, then. He'll show them, he just knows it.

Azul calls the Leech twins over to the office, preparing to make a plan for the upcoming exam season, a list of specific names he wants them to target.

He'll show [Name]. He'll show them that he's right. That big brother knows best.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst platonic #twst sibling reader #twst angst #azul ashengrotto

[seakicker]

you are so weird for wanting merman childe to knock you up full with his eggs. that’s literally so gross. please don’t describe in great, exact detail how big his merman dick is, the shape, if it curves, the colour, how much cum he can produce, does he even produce cum or just eggs and how big his cum and/or eggs would make you. that and knowing how he feels about knocking you up with merbabies would really, really make me upset.

afab + gn reader, oviposition, breeding, pregnancy, and monsterfucking below!

i am absurd for wanting a massive clutch of merman childe's eggs nestled safe and sound in my womb, you're right. i'd like you to consider merchilde with a prehensile cock because that just fits mermen so well in my opinion... what's better than a cock that's essentially a tentacle exploring your holes, prodding at every last sensitive spot inside of you with pinpoint precision in a way a human cock can't, and slithering through your folds just to make you squirm from the strange, slimy sensation rubbing against the most delicate part of your body?

his cock typically rests safe and sound inside of a slit on his crotch when unaroused, but when it's mating season or when he gets horny (or when you otherwise unknowingly arouse him bc boy do i love the idea of a human reader accidentally initiating some kind of merfolk mating custom), it emerges from that slit and grows nice and big in preparation to fill you with eggs. it's the same color as his tail -- i like to imagine a deep cyan -- and has a thick, thick base. that girth gradually tapers off the closer you get to the tip, which is nice and thin and small enough to trace perfectly around your clit.

see, i like the idea of childe being able to make cum and eggs so his babies are just a little batch of mini-childes with all of his genetic information-- you're just an incubator and nothing more in this sort of scenario since you're not supplying any genetic material yourself. i like the idea of humans being used as incubators... he hypothesizes that a single merman being able to supply the eggs and the sperm is some way of ensuring a successful breeding since the ocean is a little more cutthroat, unsafe, and cruel than human life is; it's easier to create offspring when it only takes one being and when mermen produce far more eggs than the amount that'll actually make it to full-term. the cum's a lot different from human cum, though... it's colder, slimier/runnier, and he makes much more of it than humans do. it's only natural when he has multiple eggs to fertilize-- humans really only have to worry about one egg at a time; twins or other sets of multiples are the exception, not the rule!

and oh, is he delighted to take advantage of how shocked holding so many babies at one time makes your body feel. he knows that human bodies are typically used to one child at a time, so when he manages to pump 10 or so eggs (a typical clutch size for his species, he explains) in you at one time? he's just delighted by how beautifully you swell and how easy it is to reduce you to a breathless, shaky mess because of the intense amount of effort it takes to carry such a heavy tummy around all day. it's unlikely that all ten make it to full term because of crowding and just general shell weakness, but it doesn't matter-- you're guaranteed to have a clutch of at least four when they're ready to lay. i like to imagine they have a soft, jellylike shell and are birthed just like that; they hatch on their own outside of the body. you're just there to keep 'em warm until they're ready to crack!

#merchilde my love #merman childe #merman tartaglia #spicy #juju bakery #cw oviposition #cw breeding #cw pregnancy #tartaglia smut #childe smut #afab reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut

[watcheraurora]

Siren Song

Had a dream the other night that I got turned into a mermaid. And as a gal who's loved merfolk since I was a kid, I couldn't resist 4.3k words

—

Grian grinned to himself. From his fishing dock, he could hear Gem on her little fishing boat belting sea shanties. She sounded like she was having fun, swinging around her rigging with a sword on her belt. She wasn't the only one who lived on their boat, but she was the only one who took such audible joy in it.

Grian let his feet dangle in the water, his overalls rolled up past his knees, and watched the sea as his lure bobbed. Early morning was one of his favorite times to fish. The quiet—apart from Gem's shanties—the sunrise on the clouds, the watery color of the sky. The calmness of the ocean. It was peaceful, like this. There was nothing else he needed to do but sit and fish. This early in the season, the ocean water was frigid against his bare skin. He didn't care.

"Morning Grian!" Gem called as she spun around a line of the rigging as though it was the hand of a dance partner. She waved from her boat's deck anchored a little farther out in the bay, not attached to a dock or wharf.

"Morning Gem!" Grian replied, raising a hand in response.

Gem beamed and went back to whatever it was she was up to. Grian suspected she was trying to do chores and just decided to have fun instead. She was anchored far enough out that they couldn't easily talk. They had to shout. He tried not to shout this early though. It scared the fish.

The water, near the hull of Gem's ship, moved strangely. A movement Grian was familiar with. Something large not quite breaking the surface tension, sliding just underneath. Large and shimmery.

Grian perked up. That was either the largest cod he'd ever seen—or something else was near.

He pulled his feet out of the water and stood up. Snatching his binoculars from his pack of stuff, he held them up and peered toward where the shape moved.

The murk of the early-morning ocean prevented him from seeing what was under the surface.

"Shoot," he muttered. "What was that? Big fish don't come this shallow often..." He moved the binoculars up and down, looking through them and sweeping his gaze in the same area without the magnification. "Geeem?" he called, as loud as he dared to not scare the fish. "Is your sonar on?"

Gem stopped where she was dramatically stomping on the deck with a mop in hand while chanting her shanty. "No. I'm cleaning," she called back.

"Mind turning it on? There's something big here!"

"Grian, you don't have the equipment for deep sea fishing."

"Humor me," Grian said.

Gem made a face that was unimpressed—even from Grian's distance. "Fiiine," she said, vanishing into the cabin of her boat.

—

Pearl grabbed Scar's wrist as a noise traveled through the water. A sonar that was revving up, but not yet active.

"Hold on," she said. Scar twisted his arm and grabbed her arm in return. They snagged each other's other arms. Pearl built up some momentum with her tail and they shot toward deeper water. Scar's torn caudal fin trailed limply behind him as Pearl sped them both away. The pearlescent white tail for which she got her name glimmered in the weak, pale sunlight that hadn't yet broken over the horizon.

Pearl swam them both for several long moments—until they were most likely out of range of the sonar. Then slowed down. Scar's green eyes were wide. The scar over the bridge of his nose shimmered. "Did we just get caught?"

"Maybe," Pearl said, looking over her shoulder. Her long hair drifted in a cloud around her head. She brushed it aside to look behind her. "I don't think the sonar got turned on quick enough. But I can't say for sure."

Scar looked down at his tail. The base of his caudal fin was bent awkwardly and the fin itself was torn in such a way to render it useless. He couldn't swim. "I'm sorry, Pearl. I didn't mean—"

"Don't apologize, Scar. It's not your fault."

"Bu-bu-bu-bu-but..." Scar put on his pathetic voice that was overdramatic for the sake of comedy. "But I'm the one who got too close to the humans."

"Yeah, and got closer in the hopes that they'd help fix you. We know that human of Jimmy's knows about us and would help. But everyone else? That man on the dock could have very well hooked your tail if you got any closer. We don't know who we can trust."

"How... how do we get Jimmy's human to help fix my tail? We just don't have the materials to splint it underwater."

Pearl made a face. "Well, it was pretty stupid of you to come this close to shore on your own when you can barely swim. You're lucky I got here when I did to get you out before they thought a shark got close to shore."

Scar pouted, sticking his lower lip out.

"Look. I know your tail needs fixing. And Jimmy and Lizzie's humans will help. But we need Jimmy or Lizzie to contact them. How those two both managed to snag humans is beyond me."

"Must be ocean royalty twin charm or something," Scar said sarcastically.

Pearl smirked and bounced her eyebrows. "Must be. C'mon. Let's go ask Jimmy and Lizzie if one of them can ask their human for help."

Scar thought for a moment, then nodded.

—

Grian stood on the end of his dock at the end of the day. The sun had set behind him and the last few rays were starting to filter out.

Soft footsteps approached down the dock. "Whatcha doin'?" Gem asked. Her rowboat bobbed in the water just in front of them both. She had on her light, soft boat shoes.

"Looking to see if that fish came back with the sunset," Grian said, binoculars in hand.

Gem yawned and stretched. "Okay," she said through her yawn. "I'm heading back to the boat. Holler if you need anything."

"Yeah, yeah. Cheers," Grian said.

She hopped nimbly down into her rowboat, untied it, and started to row back to her boat. Grian watched her go, making sure she was safe. They'd both moved to this small fishing town within a year of one another. Gem's grandparents had given her their fishing boat when they passed away and she'd chosen to live on it, and Grian... well. He was running. Always running. A restless soul with people in his past that he needed to be far away from for his own sanity.

He told the good people in his past that he'd found the sea. But it was more like the sea found him. Called him. Beckoned. So here he stayed. In a small flat over a shop—a workshop, to be specific. Three mechanics ran it. And he fished before and after work.

His eyes tracked Gem to where she tied her rowboat to the ladder on the hull of her boat and climbed the rest of the way up before she disappeared inside. Grian was older than Gem by only a few years, and felt a brotherly protectiveness of her. The two who came to the small, sleepy town from the outside.

There was no sign of that large fish he'd seen earlier. The last rays of sunlight were snuffed out by the dark night sky. The orangey glow of streetlamps buzzed to life.

Grian sighed with disappointment. Maybe tomorrow morning...

He turned and moved to stomp back up the dock to go back to his flat—

Before freezing.

A song floated across the surface of the water. The voice a warm baritone. Resonant enough that Grian felt his bones vibrate with the timbre of it, despite the obvious distance it was traveling. He found himself unable to move. Transfixed by the music. Entranced.

Slowly, he pivoted to face the sea again. The rocks that made up the outside barrier that sheltered the marina were dark. Except one spot that had a silvery glow on the far side. Not from moonlight.

Curiosity broke whatever spell he was under. He rushed to make his way around the perimeter of the marina. Toward the glow being cast on the rocks. Stumbling over rough terrain in the darkness.

—

A few tail-lengths down the rocky shore, Tango was crouched, elbows resting on his knees, as he smiled down at Jimmy. Who was on his stomach with his sky-blue tail bent up into the air. Caudal fin drifting up and down. He kept himself upright with his elbows on the ground, resting his chin on his hands as he talked to Tango.

A stone's throw away from those two, Lizzie and Joel were much closer. Joel sitting on the ground with Lizzie fully in his lap, her purplish-blue tail wrapped around him and his fingers lazily playing with her long pink hair.

Pearl and Scar rested as far away as possible. Pearl looked ready to drag him back into the sea at a moment's notice. Jittery and wound up. Scar, for his part, was trying to look relaxed. He was singing to keep himself calm. Tango's good friend and coworker, Etho, was helping splint Scar's tail and stitch his caudal fin back together. He had an intense sort of look to him, but his callused hands were remarkably gentle. Pearl was using what little magic she had to cast enough light for Etho to see and work by. Silvery moonlight from her palm dancing over the rocks where it reflected off the waves.

"You should probably go help Etho," Jimmy remarked to Tango.

"Probably," Tango agreed with a small nod and an unfocused look in his eyes. He didn't move. Didn't stand. Just stayed where he was crouched.

"Thank you for this, by the way," Jimmy said. "I know you would have done it yourself for him but—"

"It's fine. My hands are steady but Etho's are better," Tango remarked. "And he actually knows how to stitch up a wound and make a flexible splint. Or he's creative enough to figure it out. I'm not that creative."

"Sure you are!" Jimmy protested quietly. "You're very creative!"

"I mean, yeah, but not like this. I can make up a game for someone to play, but I can't invent a splint for a merperson's sprained tail. Those are different kinds of creativity and inventiveness." His eyes quickly flicked to the way Jimmy's scales glinted in Pearl's moonlight where scale met skin below his navel and back to Jimmy's eyes. "You're welcome, by the way. It's no problem. Happy to help where we can. For you or people you're close to." Impulsively, he reached out and tugged on the point of Jimmy's caudal fin, causing him to yelp—and dissolve into giggles.

"That tickles!" he protested, his fin sliding out of Tango's grip easily as it lashed back on instinct, clapping against the waves. Tango chuckled. He liked the way Jimmy screwed his eyes shut when he laughed. He liked Jimmy's broad smile. He liked Jimmy's easy personality and warm hazel-brown eyes. He wasn't sure yet what they were—and he hadn't talked to Jimmy about it either—but he wasn't worried. They shared space and conversation easily. He didn't care what they were.

Joel and Lizzie, for their part, didn't even look over at the splash of Jimmy's caudal fin striking the water.

Etho, Scar, and Pearl did. Only briefly.

Had they looked over for a little longer, they might have noticed a dark shadow moving closer, recklessly trampling over loose rocks. But they didn't.

—

Grian peered over the ridge of the rocks. And went stock still.

Etho, Tango, and Joel he recognized. Etho and Tango ran the shop below him with Impulse. Joel ran the small tree nursery up the road and taught painting in the evenings occasionally.

It was the other figures that made Grian freeze where he stood.

The woman in Joel's lap had long pink hair and a fish tail. The blond, athletically-built man staring at Tango like a golden retriever also had a tail. The two by Etho had fish tails as well. The male one, apparently, the source of the song that had drawn Grian around the marina. The female seemed to be the source of the light on the rocks. Etho had flexible metal instruments and some sort of straps that he was using to make some sort of brace at the end of the male's long, green tail flecked with yellows and oranges. There was a long row of stitches down the male's fin.

Grian stared, wide-eyed, his jaw slack. For a long time.

Merpeople?!

Gem was going to freak out, he decided.

A harsh wind blew off the sea. Grian took a step back to maintain his balance.

His heel caught on a loose stone. He careened, his arms pinwheeling.

Splash!

—

Seven heads snapped in the direction of the sound immediately. Pearl curled closer to Scar and bared her teeth in threat. Etho half-stood from his sitting position, looking around. Scar had grabbed Pearl's wrist and just held her there. He'd stopped singing.

Lizzie disappeared off Joel's lap and vanished into the water without so much as a sound.

Jimmy twisted and followed his twin sister into the surf. But instead of lurking in the murky darkness of the ocean at night, he swam around the ridge of the rocks to the back side, where the sound had come from. Tango bolted to his feet, standing upright.

Jimmy saw the human man—young, smaller than Tango somehow (Jimmy was unaware that adult human males could be so small)—appeared to be shocked by the cold of the surf. After a moment, the human began to thrash, fighting to swim back to the surface, obviously struggling with his shoes—as Tango had called them—still on his feet.

Jimmy grabbed the human under his arms and hauled him upwards, breaking the surface and dragging the human onto the rocky shore.

The human coughed as Tango scrambled over the loose, uneven ground to get over to them.

"Holy smokes," Tango said, sliding down the ridge. "Are you okay?" His gaze flicked between Jimmy and the human. Who was facedown but keeping himself up on his elbows as he coughed.

The unknown human coughed again and looked up. His hair was wavy and light brown. His eyebrows scrunched. "Tango?"

Tango gasped and took a step back, nearly losing his balance himself. "Grian?! What are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" Jimmy asked softly.

"He lives in the apartment above me and Etho's workshop," Tango explained. "He's a friend." Tango dropped to his knees in front of this Grian. "Hey. You okay, G?"

Grian coughed more seawater out of his lungs, but managed a nod. "Fine. Lost my footing." He cleared his throat—hard. "So. Who's going to explain to me what's going on?" He pushed himself to his feet. Drenched and shivering. Tango slid out of his thick bomber jacket and held it out. Grian accepted it and slung it on, shivering. "Tango—"

"Grian, we can explain—" Joel said, scrambling over the top of the ridge.

"I really hope you can," Grian retorted. "Because you were cuddling a mermaid."

Jimmy bristled a little, glowering at the stranger. "Don't talk about my sister like that," he growled.

Grian looked down at where Jimmy was still propped up on the shore. "Uh... sorry?"

"Jimmy," Tango said softly. Almost a warning.

Lizzie's head slid out of the surface, watching with wide eyes.

"Okay... so..." Tango began. "Merfolk exist?"

"Oh, no, really?!" Grian retorted sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed!"

"Listen, Grian. You can't tell anyone," Joel put in. "It's not our secret to share."

"Who would believe me even if I wanted to?" Grian shot back.

"Fair enough," Tango muttered, smirking down at Jimmy, who had not yet relaxed.

"Scar—Scar hold still!" Etho's quiet voice ordered from the other side of the ridge.

"But I wanna seeeeee!" Scar's voice put in.

"Scar," Pearl warned.

Grian peered between Tango and Joel's heads. "That's the voice I heard singing," he said, a touch of wistfulness laced through his voice.

"Oh shrimp," Pearl exclaimed. "Really, Scar? You had to use your siren magic?"

"I didn't mean to!" Scar protested. "I was just trying to distract myself! It's not my fault I'm this handsome and alluring."

The sound of damp skin striking damp skin and Scar yelping in surprise meant Pearl had probably whacked him in the arm. "Not the time to sound arrogant, mate!" she snapped.

Grian slid between Tango and Joel and approached the ridge to peer over it.

Scar shrunk back against Pearl's protective hug as the human got closer. Pearl bared her teeth. The soft moonlight coming from her hand turning from a small orb of light into a sharp-edged dagger. Grian didn't get any closer when he saw it morph.

Etho patted Scar's tail where a human's knee would be. "Go ahead and give that a try. Let me know if it's flexible enough to swim."

Scar looked between Etho, Grian, Tango, and Pearl. Pearl took his hand. The two scooted back into the water and disappeared under the surf.

"Scar!" Pearl said when they were safely deep enough that the others wouldn't hear them. "You can't go using siren magic when we're this close to a human town! You know your songs can be heard farther away than someone else's singing at the same volume. You have to be more careful!"

"I know, I know," Scar replied, looking defeated. "I didn't think anyone would hear."

Pearl sighed. "It's fine. It was just one. You will have to explain to Jimmy and Lizzie's mum what happened, but at least he's friends with the humans who already know." Pearl sunk lower and inspected the brace Etho made. "How's the splint working?"

Scar tested it out, swimming slowly.

—

"Okay," Grian said once the green-tailed male and the white-tailed female had vanished underwater. "So merfolk exist and apparently no one has figured that out yet?" He gave Etho, Tango, and Joel a look.

"We keep ourselves discreet," the pink-haired mermaid who'd been cuddling with Joel said from where she was a few meters out into the water. "Our cities hide from human technology with magic. And that's all you need to know." She spoke with a weight and gravitas to her voice that showed she was used to being obeyed and listened to.

"A few of us find connection with humans, but not many," the broad-shouldered blond merman who'd been making doe eyes at Tango added. "We're not supposed to, but it happens anyway. And you can't tell anyone."

Grian shook his head. "This is a lot to take in. So, wait. Was it one of you I saw earlier today? Near the hull of my friend's boat. I saw a large fish almost break the surface, but not quite."

The blond merman and his pink-haired sister met one another's eyes. "What color did you see?"

"I can't be sure. The sea was murky. Could have been blue, could have been green?"

The pink-haired mermaid sighed. "Scar's being reckless, Jimmy," she said softly to her brother. "He's getting too close."

"You know him, Lizzie. He's curious," the brother said.

"Look," Grian interrupted. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm just... startled, I guess? I don't know—"

He was cut off by the green-tailed merman who'd disappeared with the white-tailed mermaid bursting out of the water and doing a flip. "Woohoo!" the man cried as he splashed back in before resurfacing and throwing his hair out of his face.

"Scar!" the white-tailed mermaid protested, her head breaking through the surface. "You have to be quiet!"

"But I can swim on my own again, Pearl! It worked!" He beamed at Etho. In the faint light from the town's streetlights, Grian could see a scar across the bridge of the merman's nose. "Thank you, man!"

Etho shrugged. "Just a little creativity. No big deal."

The white-tailed mermaid raised a brow. "Etho, I don't think you understand how dangerous a sprained tail is," she said. "Without your help, he could have been hunted. We really appreciate it." She pulled herself out of the water and back onto shore. Her eyes were noticeably bright blue and suspicious when they turned on Grian. "You're the one who always has the hooks in the water."

"I just like to fish for the cod."

"Well you've nearly torn Scar's tail! You're lucky he got it caught on something else that wasn't your hook because if that injury had been your fault, no one would have ever found you at the bottom of the sea."

"How is that my fault?!" Grian snapped back. Jimmy and Tango glanced at each other before looking back to Grian—who didn't have time to wonder why they looked so surprised that he was arguing. "If he can't stay away from a fish hook, that's on him. He appears to be a full grown adult and you all have human intelligence so that's not on me!"

The white-tailed mermaid growled.

The pink-haired one muttered, "He's got a point."

"Hey!" the green-tailed merman protested. "It had a shiny thing on the end of it! I wanted to see!"

"That's a lure you tadpole!" Jimmy said with a heavy sigh.

"Don't act like you're the one holding the braincell here, Jim," Joel teased. "Between you and Scar it's a wonder neither of you are in a human zoo."

"Oi!" Jimmy protested at the same time Scar said, "Hey!"

Etho chuckled.

Grian threw his hands up into the air. "I give up! Have a good night. I won't tell anyone. Goodbye. I'm going to bed." He spun, his wader boot heel crunching in the rocky beach, and he stormed off back toward the town.

—

The next morning, Scar surfaced just under the wharf, hidden from prying eyes and quiet. The human from the night before—Grian?— was dangling his feet off the end of the next dock over, fishing line cast out. His fishing rod was held loosely in one hand, the other holding a book he was reading.

Scar could hear the human humming the same siren song Scar had been singing last night in broken pieces.

Smirking, Scar dipped back under the water and pushed himself deep before shoving off the wharf's supporting poles to cross the gap to the human. He looked up at where Grian's bare toes drifted back and forth, kicking idly, and smirked.

Using his arms to swim upward to keep his tail as still as possible while it healed—Etho's brace was great but if he didn't have to use his tail, he didn't want to—Scar got close to the surface.

He snickered to himself and tugged on Grian's toe.

Grian screeched like a startled bird and tore his feet out of the water, scrambling back on the dock.

Scar slid his head out of the water, an easy laugh leaving his throat. "Well, hello there!" he greeted brightly.

"What are you doing?!" Grian hissed. "What was that?!"

"Can't a merman just say hello to a new friend?" Scar asked, pouring bravado into his voice with a smirk.

"Not if you're trying not to draw attention! Not like that, at least!" Grian snapped.

Farther out in the marina, on one of the boats anchored away from the docks and wharfs, a voice called out. "Everything okay, Grian?"

Scar immediately ducked under the dock Grian was on, hiding among the support structures.

"Everything's fine, Gem!" Grian shouted back. "Bit of kelp just brushed my foot."

From the boat, a feminine laugh rang across the water. Scar giggled too, quietly. "Alrighty! Be safe!" Gem called.

After a moment, Grian dropped to his knees at the edge of the dock. "Still here?" he whispered loudly.

Scar popped back out. "Of course!"

"I never caught your name."

"Most people just call me Scar. My full name is too complicated. You're Grian?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Grian, I can't help but notice that you were singing my song." Another smirk.

Grian's expression soured. "You got it stuck in my head."

Scar chuckled. "Well, I mean, if you want," Scar tried to sound confident, but was definitely blustering a little, "you can always meet me in the same place out on those rocks after dark tonight and I'll teach it to you properly. You can meet my cousin Pearl properly too!"

"Was she the scary one with the white tail?"

"That's my Pearlie!"

"Promise she won't try to drown me?"

"She would never!" Scar said, sounding a lot more promising than he felt.

Grian looked skeptical. "Fine. After dark over on the rocks. See you then."

Scar beamed. "See you then!" He moved to dunk back under, and paused. "Also will you tell Tango that Jimmy has a present for him?"

"Sure. Why not. I'll find a time when Impulse isn't there."

"Well, thanks! You have a good day!" He twisted and dove back underwater, heading for open waters.

—

Grian stared at where Scar's long green tail disappeared.

"This is going to be more trouble than it's worth," he muttered. But curiosity was going to get the better of him, he already knew it.

Drawn in by the siren song.

Frustrated, he shook his head and abandoned his fishing for the morning. That would have to wait.

#hermitcraft fic #kinda? featuring friends #GoodTimesWithScar #Grian #GeminiTay #jimmy solidarity #TangoTek #Tango Tek #pearlescentmoon #Etho #smallishbeans #LDShadowLady #Mermaid!Pearl #Merman!Scar #Merman!Jimmy #Mermaid!Lizzie #Aurora Writes #Rory Writes

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 2 -> part 3

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn, rude reader.

a/n: sorry if it seems like im rushing i want to have most of the parts be the slow burn rather then the build up again not proof read we ride or die

tags; @chickennn-soupp <3 !

You slept nearly the entire day till you stirred awake at the near by noise of the wood creaking on the dock.

You groaned quietly as you shifted getting ready to pull yourself back into the water the tide had started to come back in and your wounds weren't bleeding much but you couldn't stay here for long anyways.

"What the hell?"

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a voice as you quickly turned towards it sort of flinching back slightly you weren't close to the dock at all but it still felt too close.

You've been around humans enough to know a a lot things.

You knew how to read and understand English well enough and speak it too it always amazed them for some reason even though you were always capable at mimicking or learning other languages they always saw you as just a slightly higher intelligent animal.

So you knew a phone when you saw one and you knew what it usually meant to so once they pulled it out without much hesitation you dived back under you were starting to dry out a bit.

"Wait wait!-"

You just ignored them as you swam a good distance away it was too risky for you to linger your injuries still fresh and you haven't the slightest clue to take care of them.

-

When he decided to take a break down at the docks for a quick smoke he did not at all expect to see a fucking Orca mer of all fuckin things the words just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"What the hell?"

They looked like they'd been threw a blender poor thing, They flinched when he guess they heard his voice staring at him now it was hard to see much of what they looked like but he fished out his phone quickly as he flicked threw his contacts dialing a number only to realized the mer was starting to move.

"Wait wait!-"

He cursed internally as you already slipped into the water just as the phone had picked up.

"Price!"

"Fuckin' hell Garrick pipe down-"

"Ah I know- I know- But It's urgent-"

"I swear Gaz if it's about that dog."

"It's not this time I promise! I got another case on our hands."

-

You had found another set of rocks to rest on messing with a shell you had snagged from a coral bed a ways back but you had snagged some seaweed in a attempt to replicate the way humans would bandage you.

It was messy and barely actually helped but it covered the few wounds you could manage to wrap without pain flaring up.

The sudden urge of hunger came over you realizing you haven't eaten in a while your last meal was when you were fed this morning.

Surely hunting wouldn't be that hard?.

It was not that hard honestly,

If hunting was scaring off some poor saps from there kill was hunting you were lucky they mistook your grizzled appearance as experience and strength rather than weakness.

Because you were most definitely weak as you dug into the poor creatures flesh you couldn't identify what it was as you ate it but you didn't care there wasn't a bad taste and you hadn't keeled over from some toxin so you were alright.

You eventually finished off most of it before leaving the rest there you were full now swimming off to god knows where your wounds didn't stop hurting of course which slowed you down greatly.

You eventually found yourself another place to sleep for the night your wounds would hopefully start doing something other than stay open and risk infection or even tearing worse.

What you didn't expect to be waken up to was the sound of the familiar rumble of a boat that was way too close voices that sounded way to clear you were supposed to be too far out for any human to happen upon you.

You were not in the mood for squeal and the shutter and flash of cameras today as you slinked back under the water and swam off.

What you also failed to expect is for the boat to start following you, You initially thought they got bored and were going to turn there boat back around to shore but of course not they were following you.

You just kept swimming forcing yourself to go faster swimming a bit lower hoping they'd lose you but they didn't.

Familiar dread rose in you panic slightly rising as you kept swimming ignoring the burn and strain you were putting on you wounds.

You didn't want to go back brief flashes of memories obscuring your vision dug up from you subconscious The chase, The shots, And the blood there was so much you couldn't breath you were covered in it.

You blinked away the memories you couldn't lose yourself not now as you took a quick breath and that was your mistake as you felt a sudden sharp pain in your tail crying out as you thrashed turning yourself to try to rip out the dart that had been shot into you it was on the smaller side but sharp enough to pierce threw your thick skin of your tail fin.

Fatigue had already set in as you eventually ripped the thing out the boat had stopped muffle warped voices from above the water as the whirr of a machine came to life.

You couldn't fucking go back not like this they'd kill you or worse, Why would they want you bad you were ruined you weren't young and energetic and naive you didn't have the hope of escape you used too.

You didn't have much time to think of your demise much more as thee was another sharp pain in your back before you fell unconscious.

a/n: woooo new pov ee also how would you guys feel if i dropped the height chart of all characters ? (your much bigger than you think orcas r huge so u being half a orca would make you massive enough :3)

#cod #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz x gn!reader #reader #gender neutral reader #gaz x reader #captain john price #john price #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soapghost #merfolk au #fanfic #eeeee <3 #amateur writer

[shibaraki]

MARITIME ENCOUNTER ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA

synopsis: you’d been endlessly forewarned by elders and friends to ignore the ocean when it called to you. it’s too bad they never instructed you on what to do when it bit you. 

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, merman/siren Aizawa, blood and injury (he tried to eat us), reader has basic surfing skill, brief descriptions of drowning in the beginning, dubcon, fictional merfolk lore / abilities, kidnapping / soft yan (there is a reason), he guts a fish at one point, medical inaccuracies probably (acute pulmonary edema and dehydration), accidental acceptance of courting, porn with too much plot, eventual monsterfucking, non-human genitalia (but NO belly bulging), vaginal oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected vaginal sex

wc: 18k+

The first time you’d truly heard about the horrors of Mers was from the mouth of your best friend’s grandfather, Shinsou Matsuo, when you were twelve years old. Before his unfortunate passing he had been a retired navy man, weathered by the decades he spent at sea, and his mind was not as it once was. 

“Be careful of the tides. There are songs between the waves”. 

Living by the coast meant you’d been naturally exposed to such fairytales, perpetuated for the sake of selling trinkets and toys to any passing tourist gullible enough to believe them. Even at such a young age you thought it to be nothing but a childish story, and his grandchild Hitoshi felt much the same. 

“Merfolk aren’t real pops,” he’d laughed in response. The sound had been cut off by the pinch of crooked fingers around his nose. His grandfather's expression, scowling and further narrowed by the wrinkles around his mouth, softened into something haunting at the dismissal. 

Matsuo-san’s face still lingers to this day. With an intonation of grief, he told you of the subordinates he’d lost. Some kept away from their loved ones for months at a time, lured into the waters by the call of their voices; others starved for a soft touch, drawn to the seductive shadow lingering by their porthole windows. There had been humanoid silhouettes caught in their nets, thin-pupiled eyes pooling with gold where the light did not touch, quickly cut free for fear they would be punished. They could be cunning too, he warned, bobbing with only their torsos above the surface and preying on people's empathy as they feigned need of rescue. 

“Reality is nothin’ like that ridiculous westernised version. No pretty young thing wantin’ to be with her prince,” he snorted incredulously, the breath catching in his throat as his lungs seized. They were weak at the time, riddled with tobacco, and he’d batted away Hitoshi's hand as he reached to assist him. If you think hard enough you can still smell it, the pervasive smoke on his tongue. 

“If you don’t keep yer wits about you they’ll eat’cha,” he continued, the strained rasp to his words only seemed to make them more frightening to you as a child, pointedly emphasising his claim with a thud to his prosthetic foot, “if the tide calls your name, don’t answer it”.

You recall his warning while you sit atop your surfboard, relaxed and steady as your body sways naturally with the waves. The sky is coloured in smatterings of orange and pink, reflecting invitingly onto the ocean’s surface where it glitters, and the sun is soon to dip below the horizon. You aren’t too far from the shoreline — a small private beach that you, ‘Toshi and the others had discovered summers ago, still mostly untouched and empty — nor are you worried that they went on home without you. Having spent your childhood here you felt confident in your ability to reach land when you were ready, your senses in tune with the water's temperament as it buffers you, eyes falling closed. 

Ignore the call of the ocean. Such a thing was near to impossible, you thought. The ocean offered a sense of contentment and belonging you could never find elsewhere. Here, with your legs hung over either side of the board and submerged in the cool water as it laps at your thighs, is where you feel right at home. 

Having left your coastal hometown numerous times only to return temporarily with every breaking of a lease, last year you’d finally given in and chosen to settle here. You found no shame in it, you’d seen plenty of the world and still, some odd sense of magnetism always pulled you right back. 

Your expression pinches slightly at the throbbing sensation by your ankle, tightening your abdomen and leaning forward to maintain balance so you can reach in. A sharp inhale between teeth, your fingers slowly work against the tender bruise. In your earlier stroll along the rockpools you had slipped and twisted it, leaving behind a swell and a shallow wound. You’d had worse — but the sprain still hurt. Thankfully there were waterproof bandages in the bottom of Hitoshi's backpack, thus the bleeding had eventually slowed to a stop, now only a disquieting shadow of red against white where they’re wrapped around your foot. 

It’s then that you catch sight of a silhouette, quickly disguised by the oncoming twilight. There is the sensation of movement beneath you, the water slowly being disturbed. You try to soothe the bubbling worry in your chest as whatever it was disappears. It can’t possibly be a shark because the ones by this area are benthic — they skate along the ocean floor merrily unperturbed by humans, and whatever it was, it’d looked far too big to be a bullhead. 

On that thought there is a dim flash of red, a fleeting illumination outlining the shape of the creature's tail that seems to crawl through its scales until it tapers into darkness. No, definitely not a bullhead shark, not like anything you have ever seen before; with that one glance you can estimate the length to be over six feet. 

The skin on the back of your neck prickles and anxiety seizes your body, the quiet no longer comforting. You’re being circled, you realise, as if you were prey. So not to agitate whatever it is by disturbing the water further, you slowly begin to lift your legs out of the sea and back onto your board, shaking as you wrap both arms around your knees, inhaling shallow breaths through your nose. A single bump from below and you could be pushed into the ocean’s depths, at their mercy. 

A few suspended moments pass peacefully, a part of you hoping that you had simply imagined it, only for a familiar melody to wade into the silence. It settles around your shoulders like home, the tension bleeding from your body as the blanket quietens your trembling. Something about it strums at the strings in your chest, tears gathering by the corners of your eyes as nostalgia fills you, reminded of someone you longed for. This voice, this song — how long had it laid dormant beside your heart? 

There is another flash of crimson, the surface rippling against sudden movement, but you’re nonplussed. The canorous humming enters your system like anaesthesia until all your muscles are slack and your own good judgement has taken a backseat. It is almost akin to drunkenness, all lazy grins and warmth beneath your skin; you barely react when a hand extends from the shadows and reaches for you, instead watching with slow fascination as ebony fingers encircle your calf with an inhumane grip, tightening until claws break skin. 

“Let’s go home,” your attention is drawn to Hitoshi’s misplaced yet gentle voice, emitted from the left of your board. What follows a hand is an arm, thick with muscle and fat, scales sparsely littering the skin and gathering at the shoulders. Peering above the board is what appears to be the face of a man, his dark head of hair floating atop the ocean’s surface, red pooling into his hauntingly wide eyes and unblinking as it watches you. There is a scar along the curve of his cheek, raised and pink as if it were still fresh, and it lifts as he grins. 

“Let’s go home,” it warbles. All teeth, all hunger.

You’re pulled under, slipping readily from the deck of your surfboard, yelping as the stringer scrapes along your spine. Once your lips part to release the pained noise water rushes in to fill the empty space and chokes you, intense panic ricocheting through your body as you instinctively begin to thrash. The sweet tune still rings true in your ears as the pain yanks you into reality, but it no longer soothes you into submission. 

There is no sight or sound, just the cinching of two arms around your waist to still you, and the sharp piercing of teeth into the meat of your shoulder with violent force. Matsuo-san’s warning echoes unhelpfully, mockingly. They’ll eat’cha, they’ll eat’cha, they’ll eat’cha. It drags you deeper, the pressure suffocating you as it holds you breast to breast, salt and copper cloying in your oesophagus. You’re going to be torn apart, you realise. Would such a creature even understand the kindness in killing their prey first, would it eat you alive and take you bit by bit as your body bloated? Would your surfboard wash ashore devoid of truths or would it be taken by the tide — would your friends and family move on without the answers?

You can feel your blood struggle, pulse throbbing in the glands of your throat, loud in your ears. There is barely any fight left in your body as the panic succumbs to numbness; even so your dull nails claw at him, pushing at its jaw and met with immovable force, fingers grazing the spiked fins curved along the shell of its ears as you grasp a fist full of hair. The Mer shudders where its tongue is pressed to your wound, arms momentarily loosening, but your chance is long passed. Between the planes of consciousness, at a loss for sensation or for thought, everything slows to a stop. 

Sense returns to you with gentle coaxing, a familial cooing in your ear, the stroking motion of a hand against the crown of your head that reminds you of being tucked away as a child. Had it not been for the hard, uneven and damp rock beneath your cheek you might’ve been disorientated enough to believe you were curled up in bed. 

You blink away the discomfort, eyes stinging as they open, helpless as your blurred sight begins to adjust to the surroundings. Undoubtedly, you are in a cave of sorts, carried deep into its belly with barely any light flooding in from the maw. A figure looms over you, daunting as he continues with the rough lullaby, your naive humanity whispering that he must be trying to comfort you. 

Everything aches as you appraise the creature, your lungs tender like a bruise, frozen by your fright. It’s a merman. An inhumanly handsome face curtained by dark tresses that spill over his wide shoulders — it’s dry now, you note, wondering just how long he had kept himself at your side, or how long you'd been here — and a defined torso that shifts as he breathes, charcoal scales scattered along his pale navel and hips where they fade into his tail like ink. 

He shifts upon realising you’re awake, ducking far too closely into your space, a rumbling growl emitting from his throat. Fear wracks throughout your body as you squirm beneath him, hearing his hiss of displeasure, arms braced either side of your head and holding the weight of his entire body. The choice of fight or flight has already been torn from you; you realise quickly that there is no method for getting out of this cave without first needing to swim, and there is no hope in beating such a huge Mer in a battle of speed or strength. 

His finned ears expand further, now releasing a series of gentle clicks. Your movement agitates him, a glow returning to his eyes and pooling hypnotically around his pupils, but not only there — in the shallow pool where his tail rests, you watch in awe as the red luminescence passes through his scales like circuitry, highlighting the wing-like lateral fins feathered along his sides. 

“Please– please don’t—” 

His mouth opens then, lips shaping around the words carefully. “Stop moving before you hurt yourself,” your parent’s voice reverberates along the walls of the hideout, “I can take care of you here”. 

There was the truth of it, the myths you'd been warned about. Tales of Merfolk luring in humans with the voices of their loved ones. Those men aboard Matsuo’s ship had jumped in after the ones they yearned for the most, and back by the shore this creature had inebriated you with the calm tones of your best friend's voice. 

You couldn’t even be sure if it was the same day, or whether he’d kept you here longer. Any kind of rebuttal you’d had got caught in your throat as you violently shook, puppeted by fear and the cold evening air. A grimace twists into your features when you swallow, allowing yourself to fall completely limp, relief washing over you once a pleased hum rumbles in his chest. You could beg, you didn’t think yourself above it, but begging for your life to something that may have no inclination to spare it felt cruel.

“You can hear my deepest desires, right?” you ramble on despite how futile it feels, “then I want t’go home. Could you let— let me go home?” 

His stare is heavy, expression unmoving and flat. When he isn’t snarling he looks more like a man, and you try not to let it disarm you. “I won’t tell anyone that you’re here if–if you’re worried about being poached,” his eyes flicker to your lips when you try to smile, but still he remains silent in his disapproval. Frustration rears its head, your chin quivering as the polite crescent of your mouth withers, sinking your teeth into the flesh of your inner cheek until you taste blood. 

“Why didn’t you just eat me? What— what am I doing here?”

His hand, intimidatingly large and sharp, takes rough hold of your jaw. The grip eases slightly when you cry out, like he hadn’t understood his own strength, and you’re powerless to the drag of his tongue along your cheek as he laps up your tears. The muscle is longer than that of a human, with what feels like short tufts of fringing around the tip. In an effort not to offend him, you remain still. 

“Don’t cry sweetheart,” it is the voice of Matsuo-san's wife, Shinsou Sakiko, murmuring reassurances you’d heard when you were younger. The Mer’s exhale is warm by your ear as he cradles your throat, delicate with you as if you were made of seaglass. Then his thumb, a claw finely sharpened, slips along the wall of your gums with vapid curiosity; your throat constricts against his palm as he collects the blood and spit, strings of saliva breaking when he pulls back to lick it from his fingers as if it were an entree. 

“You’re hurt,” Sakiko croons, the tone far too sweet for his expression, his tongue briefly rolling into your mouth to caress the molar-shaped wound before retreating. You push against him, panic-stricken by the sudden act of intimacy, any heat pooling unwillingly in your belly at the sensation soon smothered by your own disgust. He wasn’t a man, he was not even human — to Merfolk something like a kiss would mean something different, if it meant anything at all. 

“Get away from me—!” His brows pinch, glaring at your sudden outburst before pointedly pinching the swell of your cheek. The soreness is gone, no more copper between your teeth, no more open wound. He had… healed it somehow. The thought brings your attention to your shoulder, right where he had attempted to tear away a chunk of your flesh, and find the skin as smooth as the day you were born. 

Even your ankle is bare, bandages cast aside, no longer inflamed. All you’re left in is your springsuit. 

“You healed me,” it’s an observation at most, though tinged with teary-eyed confusion, and you attempt to keep them at bay so he would not lick you again. You repeat: “why didn’t you eat me? Or kill me?” 

He blinks, a translucent second set of lids sliding over his eyes. Nothing. “Were you just not hungry? Or— or are humans kinda’ like a delicacy? Are you saving me for later?”

His nose wrinkles and he sinks back into the shadows with an exasperated sigh, folding his thick arms across the rocks surface and leaning against his chin. The fins of his ears flare slightly from beneath his hair. “Did I taste that bad?” you release a strained laugh, the sound tapering off as his pupils swallow his iris. Then he shakes his head. No. 

“So you do understand me,” — he levels you with another flat look, gaze leaden with irritation — “then… if you aren’t going to eat me why won’t you let me go home?” 

He lowers his head and you flinch back against the cave wall as his caudal fins slap the surface of the water, an ephemeral flash of red erasing the shadows cast across the space. It lasts a few seconds, but it is still enough for you to gauge just how many trinkets he has shoved away here. Everything from sparkling ore, old fish carcasses and fluorescent plants. There are even items clearly man-made and tossed into the ocean; an oval mirror, a punctured life raft filled with beach towels and a yellow sleeping bag, even a children's toy from decades ago. 

You understood then, that in his mind, you were already home. He intended to keep you here.

“Don’t you want to be with me?” he says smoothly. Your skin pebbles at the seductive intonation in what is now a copy of your ex lover’s voice, and his eyes brighten minutely with the realisation that it affected you, “that’s right. You’re mine”. 

“Stop,” you rasp, nausea and hunger twisting uncomfortably in your gut, hands laid flat to the damp surface of the cave. It’ll soon be night, the temperatures will drop and settle into the marrow of your bones; with every day that passes you’ll wither away, physically and emotionally, just a plaything for a creature you never believed existed. 

“If you’re going to keep me here the least… the least you could do is use your own voice, or tell me your name,” your fingers curl into your palm, wanting to ground yourself with the pain, cautious that breaking skin would mean being manhandled again, “don’t… don’t use that one again. Please”.

He’s unsettlingly perceptive, informed of every little movement your muscles make, glancing towards your fists. The Mer appears uncharacteristically regretful at your request, and again you are struck by how human it makes him look. 

“Mer only take on the voices of those you care or yearn for”. It’s fitting, and faintly amusing, that he would emulate Matsuo-san as he answers. It’s as if you are back on the front porch, listening to his ghoulish tales. You can’t tell if it’s a purposeful choice to make you feel better or to have you relax in his nest. 

His short explanation reminds you of another story, then. The search for a Merfolk’s tongue. Hundreds of years ago, as Man sought to colonise and conquer, those who opposed and rebelled took to the sea in search of a Mer to cut out their tongue, so that it might be used to bring down corruption.  

Loneliness and insecurity, heartbreak and grief, these were universal experiences that could be preyed upon. You think it must be a powerfully frightening tool, being able to seduce people in such a way. But it was a little sad too, never having your own voice. 

You nod in understanding and try to smile. Inhaling steadily, he lifts his chin from where it rests between his arms and grins to mimic you. There is no light in his eyes, both left blank and wide as the corners of his mouth lift to reveal two sets of pointed teeth, and you focus on the raised scar along his cheekbone to avoid his unnerving gaze. 

Having been caught up in his attempt at civility, you’d forgotten exactly what it was you were talking to. With the gradual rise of the moon over the distant horizon comes a brisk chill that clings to your short wetsuit, an eerie white glow reflecting on the ocean's surface as the waves shift. The rippling reverberates around you in the darkness alongside a repetitive drip, drip, drip. Depending on where you were along the shoreline the Mer may need to leave with the tide for a few hours so as not to dry out — unless he’d like to be trapped in the caves cupped hands — which would create an adequate window for escape, but the consequences of being caught may not be entirely worth it. 

Your body is fraught with the cold, and so the Mer urges you towards the old liferaft, barely visible behind the locks of hair that have fallen over his eyes. Your knees are frail beneath your weight, patently weak from blood loss, but ink-dipped fingers curl into the fat of your thigh in encouragement. It’s humiliating, bare feet slipping on the thin sheen of biofilm spread across the rocks, but you can’t deny how your struggle pleases him to an extent. Endears you to him, rather. 

Nothing but a silly little human, tucked away in his nest of abandoned beach towels, engulfed by a scratchy sleeping bag that is most certainly full of sand. You’re grateful for the exhaustion, your body sinking into the makeshift bed, cheek leant on the rim of the raft as one might sleep facing their bedroom door. 

He remains unmoving, assumedly waiting for you to fall asleep, a solid silhouette blocking the waning light of the moon. With some exertion he attempts to speak again, this time a man you’ve never heard before, an eldritch trill to his speech akin to the scratching of a record. “Sh– ou– ta,” he says, the word harsh in your ears and raising the soft hair on your forearms. 

Shouta. “Your name?” 

He nods. An innate part of you recognises the struggle it took to say that aloud, as if it’d taken fighting his own instincts just to form the first syllable. You repeat it back to him, and a flush of bioluminescence flares through his skin. 

It’s laughable how, given the situation you’re in, an expression of thanks still sits on your tongue at his clear efforts. Gratitude to the creature that had, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped you. 

Claws tap incessantly against the cave walls. “Go to sleep darling,” once again a familial voice calls to you, the change short lived. As your consciousness slips you press the thoughts to the forefront of your mind in hopes he would hear them — I want to go home, let me go home — but in the depths of your heart, you know this is no longer about your desires. 

It was about his. 

The next time you wake it is late morning, the sun already emerging from the ocean as it gently ascends, beams of light pouring into the cavern and reflections bouncing along the surface. Some time between then and now, your body began to feel like it had been hit by a large vehicle, the numbness that carried you through a night's rest dissipating as sensation returned to your limbs. 

Salt and damp pervades the air. Joints throbbing, you push up to brace your arms against the raft floor and take in the rest of the cave, sleeping bag pooling loosely around your waist. It’s far bigger than you thought. A bowl-shaped hollow, the space previously narrowed by shadows, and there are clusters of luminous algae and moss dotted along the walls. It becomes obvious that what you are resting on is a ledge of sorts, and there are various other jutted rocks wide enough for the Mer to rest on. Beneath you, at an angle you cannot see, an underwater path furthers into the cave that you could never hope to access; perhaps he was down there, he seemed like a species made for darkness. 

The tide swells, seafoam washing along the rocks and crawling towards you. Unease twists in your sternum at just how close it had gotten, but the various horizontal stains left on the walls tells you it had never gotten any higher than that — not yet.  At least, you don’t think your captor would go to such lengths just to have you drown in your sleep; Shouta seemed intent on keeping you alive despite his base instincts, which only begged the question of why. Said creature is suspiciously absent, leaving you with nothing but rusted trinkets and relics of the past for company. You’re relieved to be free of his invasive stare, needing time alone to truly process all that had happened. 

The first attempt at standing is foiled by the sudden onset of dizziness that topples you into the beach towels, pain throbbing incessantly behind your eyes. It still felt tender to breathe too deeply, but you do so anyway, steadying yourself against the rock face to glance at the maw. 

You’re barely able to walk, nevermind swim for freedom, especially with a Mer pursuing you. There was too little knowledge to even attempt making it to the entrance. For all you knew he could’ve stowed you away in one of the furthest cliff’s edges, and making it back to the beaches might take hours. 

Your tongue sits heavily in your mouth, dry as you smack your lips, sharp when you swallow. All the first aid and emergency rescue training you’d worked through in your adolescence seems utterly useless now, too hungry and too dehydrated to even form coherent thought. 

In your periphery you see a black mass turning into the mouth of the cave, submerged enough that it might be skating along the seafloor. In the daylight like this, you can truly see just how huge the Mer is. The length of his tail alone has to be around six foot long as you'd estimated, thick and undulating seamlessly in his approach. His torso curves upwards as he starts towards the edge of the ledge, and between the distorted ripples you watch his hair billowing with the motions. 

The water surged forcefully as he broke the surface, charcoal dipped fingers gripping the shelf and hauling his body weight one handed without any sign of exertion, muscles shifting in the thick of his bicep. You’d had no qualms about hallucinating the creature, you knew it to be true, and yet seeing him so clearly calls to disbelief. The black and red in his tail meet like an oil spill, scales adorned in bloodied ink. In this light his finned ears are almost translucent, twitching in the direction you stand, beaded eyes staring back at you blankly as the paper-thin gills by his throat flutter. 

Shouta, you remember. His head tilts slightly as if he’d heard you. 

“Not talkative today?” you ask, thoroughly unnerved by his silence. 

He huffs. After a few seconds of appraising one another, Shouta shifts to beach himself further onto the surface, his other arm finally lifting from the depths to reveal a medium sized sea bass struggling helplessly against his claws. You startle as he throws it, knees buckling and releasing a pained yelp as the poor thing lands with a loud thud, convulsing beside you. Drowning in air. 

“What– what’s that for…?”

The gentle clicking returns from between his teeth, in much the same manner that he had yesterday, and he drags himself smoothly towards you with a faint pinch between his brows at your sudden fall. You flinch back when he grabs you but Shouta remains unperturbed, easing you into his vice-gripped embrace into his side until you obediently force yourself limp again. Something begins to vibrate in the base of his throat, a noise you first mistake for an agitated growl, slow to realise that given the context it must be that he’s pleased — was he purring?

Lost in thought, your stunned expression goes unnoticed by the Mer, opting to drag the fish by the tail right into your lap. The creature is cold to the touch, suddenly heavy atop your thighs as it continues to squirm, and as it slaps helplessly against your skin your hands reflexively shove it across the cave floor. All at once, the purring comes to an abrupt halt, and the sea bass slides unceremoniously into the water. Shouta's tail flickers in agitation. This time you are sure it is a growl, and his upper lip curls to bear his teeth, pointed and stained pink with what you assume was a recent kill. 

You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to touch him as you do, perhaps reminded of soft cupped hands on either cheek as a child, soothing your furious tears with the pad of a thumb. There were naive hopes that maybe it would appeal to his humanity, if it existed. So your fingers quiver where they rest on his skin in apology, much colder than that of the sea bass, compact and denser than a human’s. He doesn’t immediately pull your arm from the socket, and you get a little braver, brushing the hair laid flat to his face back until you can see all of him. 

Mers truly are frightening. Beautiful, but frightening. Shouta remains motionless, his first set of eyelids blinking shut, and then the second. You wondered if his eyes dried out quickly, or became irritated when out of the water for too long. There are smaller scales littering the curve of his throat, dispersing on either side of his jaw, and they’re smoother than expected. 

His hair is saturated and surprisingly soft, despite the exposure to saltwater. Exhaling shakily, your fingers near the fins of his ears, remembering how you had grabbed them after being submerged. The memory calls attention to just how bruised your lungs feel, to how close you had been to dying. You’re morbidly tempted to touch them again, just to see how it would affect him, but refrain. A single show of disrespect could get you killed — the scar along Shouta’s cheek was not the only one on his body, he had clearly participated in his fair share of violence. 

Amidst your deliberations, the Mer cautiously settles his hand against your leg, keeping you held at his side with one around your waist. His pupils flicker across your face as he palms at the fat of your thigh, his lateral fins twitching with interest as he revels in how soft you are. Too weak to push against the arm at your back, you are pulled further into his lap until your knees are pressed either side of him and your stomachs are touching. 

You feel the musculature in his abdomen ripple against your front, acutely aware of every place your bodies meet. The damp fabric of your springsuit is almost stifling with how it clings to your skin, but Shouta seems deeply pleased by the interaction, his stoic expression thawing into contentment. There’s an inherent thrumming of fear in your veins, but there’s anticipation, too. It felt intimate, possessive. 

“Don’t be scared,” you tense at the sudden press of Hitoshi’s voice to your throat, the creature giving an experimental sniff to the sensitive skin behind your ear. You wished he wouldn’t do that. Hearing your best friend in this place did nothing to quell your fear. What a meaningless sentiment, you thought, all too aware of the fangs protruding his lips as he licks a stripe along your jaw. Maybe he hadn’t lied — maybe you had tasted good, and you’d been brought here for him to slowly savour. 

The delirious laughter in your chest is quickly smothered in favour of placating him, willing yourself not to cry. You’d been kidnapped in every sense of the word, and now you were being kept in a cave by a mythical being like you were a toy, or a pet. He nips at the curve of your shoulder and nausea stirs in your belly, bile rising in your throat as you swallow the realisation that you likely would not see your loved ones again. 

Your grief is interrupted by the groaning of your stomach. Shouta leans back to investigate the sound, manhandling you from where you’re seated in his lap to stroke his knuckles along your torso, cautious of his claws. He grunts then as the noise repeats, and slips you off to the side delicately, sprawling you along the ledge. 

Turning onto his front, with a simple push he plunged himself into the cave corridor, his huge silhouette dashing out into the open ocean. As the waves swelled and rippled around him they distorted his frame, making him appear even bigger. The Mer was entirely confident leaving you here unsupervised — he knew you wouldn’t be able to leave. 

With his departure came the loss of adrenaline, left shivering where he had laid you by the edge. Your arm hangs limp, fingertips skimming the surface of the water as it gradually calms. In your chest is an amalgamation of emotions that you don’t know what to do with, far too exhausting to consider thinking about.  Shouta was terrifying, but alluring. His intentions seemed sweet, or doting, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. He was endearing, in some ways.

You watch the patterns dancing on the sea bed. “Merfolk are real,” you whisper aloud. The statement echoes mockingly around the cave. Differing languages, cultures and species. Your kind carried similar physical traits but his appearance didn’t make him human. No, his actions were what made him feel human. 

It was a hard truth that the Mer had initially planned on eating you, so you weren’t sure what prompted him into behaving like this. All the information you had to go on were fairy tales and stories from a deceased man’s memory. Maybe there wasn’t any reason at all, and the creature was bored. Or lonely. 

Your sight catches an iridescent glare of light amongst the muddied sand and seagrass. Actually there seems to be a surplus of other random trinkets, things either washed up or discarded here by Shouta, as if he hadn’t known where else to put them. But you are ensnared by the small band of colour hidden in the bed. 

Your mind feels thick with cotton, lethargic as you sink your arm into the cold depths in an attempt to reach the ring. The clear view of the bed tricks you into thinking it is not that deep, barely close even with your shoulder submerged. Squeezing away the ache behind your eyes, you pull back and slap the surface in frustration and wincing at the movement. 

Finely attuned to the vibrations in the water and sensing your movement, Shouta returns hastily with something else in his grip, his speed forcing foam up the walls. His tail flashes dull red in the daylight, thick at the hips and thinning by the tail, his lateral fins inflamed. In stark contrast to the way he arrived, the big creature brakes when close enough and gently lifts himself up until you are face to face, the proximity forcing you further onto the ledge. Judging by the flat look of tired exasperation from behind black curtained hair, he wasn’t pleased. 

His sights flicker towards the seabed before he grunts at you again, though it’s a little harsher and with a tone of finality, like a parent saying ‘no’ to a child. You were being scolded. This time you do allow yourself to laugh, dissolving gradually into broken sobs, physically feeling your sanity slip. 

 “Stop. Don’t—!” You protest Shouta’s grip as he scoops you into his side, already building up a symphony in his chest. You are submerged in the sound, head to foot, heat seeping into the tissue deep ache of your muscles. Caged to his chest, nose pressed right beneath his gills; Shouta is icy to the touch, but it is as if you are in a warm bath. 

“Be careful of the deep end sweetheart,” your parent’s voices ring softly through the hollow, stirring up memories like sand. The echo is akin to a wind chime, you think. It’s beautiful, but it isn’t truly them, and the realisation disturbs the peace he had lulled you into. Humiliated by the coddling you consider tilting your chin to rip his gills out with your own teeth — it was strange for him to trust you near such a delicate part of his anatomy. 

“I’m going to die here”. 

The words are hoarse, cloying in your sinuses. Shouta’s dark fingers thread into your hair, claws featherlight where they graze the scalp, pulling your head back with ease until your throat is bared and your eyes meet. His pupils thin, a crimson glow pouring into black like ink. It dances around the iris, reminding you of the refracted sunlight on the seabed. You were no behavioural expert when it came to Merfolk, but as a human being you can certainly recognise poorly veiled surprise in another's expression.

“Not so convincing with the voice thing, are you?” you’re feeling careless now, accepting the inevitable. Maybe if you annoy him enough he’ll get it over with sooner. “The songs work better. At this point you’re just reminding me of what I’m leaving behind”.

The bridge of his nose wrinkles for a moment, lip shifting like it wanted to curl upwards. He exhales harshly, the breath causing your skin to pebble, and slaps something into the damp rocky surface. You see that he’s brought back another fish, much smaller than the previous one, and recoil. With its size, silvery colouring and lighter belly, you’d like to guess it was a young trout. Shouta appears content as he lifts it again by the tail to hold it in front of you, having killed it with the impact.

Dehydrated or concussed, or both, you can’t be sure — but your thoughts finally catch up with you the moment he indicates that you open your mouth. He was trying to feed you. 

“I can’t— I can’t eat that,” you quietly tell him, “I’ll get sick”. With equal parts fear and guilt, you glance between him and the trout pleadingly. This random, wild-born fish was hardly a piece of sashimi; it needed to be gutted and cleaned, maybe frozen for a few hours if not cooked. But he doesn’t budge, levelling you with a blank stare. 

“Please Shouta,” you try to appeal to him with his name, and a faint flush of red thrums beneath his scales. As it passes there is a metallic taste to the air, like a copper penny heavy on your tongue. Judging by the way his jaw tightens, it is an entirely involuntary reaction. You endeavor not to misuse it, then. 

“It’s… it’s raw,” you try again. The smell is worsening your nausea, and his distinct look of ‘yes, and?’ is not helping. “I couldn’t bite into it even if I wanted to”. 

He shifts at that, finally moving the trout away from your face to appraise it himself, tail floating lazily behind him. Using one hand he brings it underneath his own nose and inhales the scent, all the while observing you with what felt like accusation. The fingers cradling your head slip around to cup your cheek, locking you in the crook of his arm, and pry your mouth open with careful force. 

Pulse throbbing in your throat, you hold your breath and pray to every deity you can think of. If Merfolk were real, perhaps there were other mythical beings that could hear you, that may not be so inclined to toying with you, that would help you. Shouta mimics the action and opens his own mouth, displaying his pointed teeth. Now you’re close enough you can see that some of them are serrated, reaffirming his role as a predator. The pad of his thumb comes to rest at the point of your left canine tooth, his claw extended further and tracing the roof of your mouth. 

It was as if he were comparing them to his own. It’s possible the Mer had never been this close to a human before, not without having consumed them. This could all just be a result of morbid curiosity.  

He loosens his grip, letting you go, visibly relaxing when you don’t immediately scramble away from him. Instead you stay to watch as he braces himself on his forearms, centring the fish between your bodies and dragging a dark nail through the scales in thought. 

Then, unceremoniously, he is stopping at the underside of the tail and forcing his claw through its belly. You’d seen fish gutted before, a sharp knife's edge gliding through flesh, root to stem. Shouta pulls apart the belly of the trout and purrs agreeingly as the entrails slip into the wet floor. 

Happy with the cavity it leaves, the Mer begins to tear pieces away, pale strings of connective tissue stretching and snapping as he puts them into his mouth. Your knees ache, feet tucked either side of your thighs, stray sand and gravel embedding into skin. It’s uncomfortable, but you’re curious. The shifting of his jaw is subtle as he chews, being oddly careful and timely, never actually swallowing. 

Leaving only the head, some of the flesh still left on the bone as his mouth becomes full, Shouta turns his body towards you. Back straightening instinctively, your body readies itself for flight in spite of your low likelihood for an escape. Unease simmers in your sternum while the Mer blinks, the first set of lids and then the second, finned ears pointing toward the cave’s entrance as a gust of wind reverberates throughout; it wails pitifully. 

His lips part, jaw opening enough for his tongue to roll forward. At the end of the muscle the fringed tips have folded into one another, rolled up in order to hold the mushed up Trout’s meat. You remember how they had tickled, and wonder what their purpose was. Perhaps, like dolphin calves, it was mainly for nursing.

The water is disturbed as he lifts himself up onto his hands, jutting his chin toward you, but thankfully does not approach. If you were understanding the situation correctly, Shouta had not only brought you food, but chewed it in his own mouth for you because he thought your human teeth were inadequate. 

The silence stretches on dreadfully, but he is patient with you as you attempt to conjure up a delicate way of refusing him a third time. After the effort he’d gone to, saying he might not take it well was an understatement. So, you swallow the fear, mouth unbearably dry as your trembling hands cup together beneath your breasts. Reaching forward, you indicate for him to deposit the food in your palms, and he does so with a rough trill at the back of his throat. 

“Th– Thank you,” you bow habitually, though he probably does not know the significance of it. You wonder if there are certain customs in Mer-culture as there are for humans; it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think so. Given the vast oceans they live in in comparison to the Earth’s land mass, they were probably far more diverse.

Your stomach twists and you’re far beyond deciphering whether it is nausea or hunger. Mercifully, it doesn’t audibly grumble, so you ask: “Could… Could I save it? For later? I’m a little tired and nauseous”. 

He tilts his head, a small frown on his face. But it thaws after some deliberation, looking rather happy even with his features kept neutral, and you slump in relief at his affirming nod. The mush is wet and cold in your palms, and it smells dreadful, but you can’t deny he's practically chewed it into paste; as if he’d thought of you as a baby bird of sorts. With that in mind, you deduced he might thoroughly be enjoying the idea of you eating in his nest after resting. It was easy to theorise when you truly knew nothing at all — until a few days ago, you thought they were just scary stories. 

Once you have crawled your way back into the raft, you clumsily use your bare feet to kick open a beach towel tucked into the corner, dumping the trout slop and covering it. Shouta’s eyes are impossible to ignore; you can’t help but feel he knew you were lying about eating it. And if that were the case, why would he humour you in that way?

Your sleeping bag is warm, and the fabric rustles as you move to get comfortable. With the incessant throbbing of your head, you’re a little thankful for the dim lighting. Laid curled up on your side, apprehensively facing the direction of the Mer, exhaustion rocks you to sleep. 

The distant pitter patter of a sun shower starts at the mouth of the cave as you wake. It comforts you far more than any siren melody could; you long to be with your friends, arms spread for momentum as you spin beneath the rain together. Hopefully Hitoshi would be allowed into your apartment to collect some of your personal things and take your indoor plant with him after you’re gone. 

You feel far worse than before you’d slept. Head pounding like it had a heart of its own, the pressure enough to feel as if it were swelling against the inside of your skull. Struggling for breath, your chapped lips part to inhale, your tongue dry where it peels from the roof of your mouth. You blink the sleep from your eyes but it does no good to rid your sight of the blur, a permanent haze softening the lines of the cave around you. Everything hurt, yet you were too disorientated to acknowledge it. If you were to guess, you had slept for nearly an entire day — whatever day it currently was. Should the Mer not understand how humans measured the passage of time, you could still ask how many times the moon had cycled since your arrival to figure it out. It couldn’t be more than three or four days at most, which meant you didn’t have long until your body succumbed to dehydration. 

The creature is absent again, trusting you to sit pretty as his elongated shadow weaves in the distance. He’s circling, repeating a back and forth motion. Guarding, you note. The open ocean breathes calmly, devoid of any man or boat. With the strength you still have you pull yourself up onto the side of the beached life raft and rest your head atop your arm, drawn to the objects left side by side further along the edge that look to be wrapped in kelp. Peeling back the corner you find a single scale and a ring — the ring, the one you’d reached for in the seabed. 

It is a typical sliver, likely stainless steel, though the outside is more glass-like and full of liquid crystals that glitter. There’s an abrupt splash from Shouta’s direction but you pay him no mind as you reach for the ring, limbs heavy and slow to take it between your thumb and forefinger, breathing a soft sound of awe as the colours change under your touch. A mood ring. You hadn’t seen one in years, not since you were a child; the Mer must have put it here for you. 

You can admit that it is disturbingly sweet. The tending to your wounds, creating what he thinks is a human’s bed, bringing you food and leaving you gifts. Even the singing and the voices of your loved ones did not seem to be in malintent — you were already here, in his grasp, so there was no need to lure you. 

It didn’t make any sense. You exhale, the sigh strained and wheezing as you slip the ring along the length of your fourth finger. The thermochromic teal hue gradually fades into a murky orange. It makes you laugh, inevitably dissolving into a weak cough; one thing you do recall is that orange indicated stress. 

Shouta darkens the cave’s entrance as you take the scale, his back to the open ocean, suspended where he observes you despite the swell of waves splitting around his form. It rolls through the pool, stirring up the sea bed, spitting against the raft when it crashes. His eyes are gleaming, expression hidden behind his hair. Subjected to his rapt attention, your intuition tells you that this is something incredibly important. The muscles threaded around your ribs cramp as you breathe, anxiety echoing through your chest cavity; the voice whispers that whatever you do, whatever this is, you need to get it right. 

You run the pad of your thumb over the edges, delicate with how you handle it. It’s oval shaped, around half the length of your palm, and after applying a little pressure you find it is extremely malleable, bending every which way and never breaking. Held up to the thin streams of light bouncing against the damp walls, it glitters. There are hidden flecks of deep, deep red, so rich it blends harmoniously with the black. The iridescence is beautiful — similarly to the mood ring, if you stare long enough it feels as if the colours are oscillating under your touch. 

You wondered if there was… cultural significance to this gift giving, or if perhaps it was his attempt at apologising. It was futile to apply a human’s way of thinking to something inhuman, but then again he could know that just as well. It could be an olive branch, trying to communicate something that can’t be said. 

His tail shifts, the large muscle driving him forwards effortlessly, the refractions on the walls moving with the ripples left in his wake. It’s disconcerting just how silent he is when moving in the currents. The Mer pulls himself onto the ledge without fanfare, strong arms sliding him right beside the raft. It’s the furthest you have seen him on land, and the most you’ve seen of his lower half. The caudal fin does not deviate into two, as you have seen in movies and television; rather it is one long fin that widens considerably from the root of his tail and curves outwards, eventually curling back in to meet and thin into a point at the end. It looks delicate in comparison to the rest of him. 

There are spots missing, some of him scarred. He lifts it higher for you as he notices you looking, the water loudly running off him, a faint glow emitting beneath his skin. Knowing that he had lost some makes the scale in your hand weight that much heavier. “Thank you for the gifts,” you say, tearing up at the soreness in your throat. Speaking hurts, as if your lungs are bloating with water again. 

Shouta’s lips part, but as you think he’s going to speak he decides against it. He must’ve taken your earlier words about the voices to heart, because you are then regaled with a chorus of hums and rough chirps as he crowds into your space, pushing you backwards as he nuzzles his nose to your jugular. 

Resistance didn’t matter much when facing such an immovable force. To him, you may as well be totally pliant. You aren’t sure whether you are no longer frightened by him, or if you’re just too exhausted to care; reflexively tilting your head, he licks down the curve of your throat, teeth hooking into your dirtied springsuit with a frustrated grunt. He tears the fabric as if it were thin as paper, all the way to the valley of your breasts, and nips at your collar. 

There’s something distressing about the relief that follows. He is content with your response, and you’re happy to have pleased him. It’s unclear whether your mind is simply forming explanations to protect itself, but the more you think the more you find it endearing. Is this not just like any other fairytale? Losing something for a chance to be with the person you want, being stowed away by a beastly creature and learning to see him as anything but. 

If his intentions were to be read literally then he had just been trying to take care of you. Maybe he just wanted company. Maybe he really was just bored, or lonely. Maybe you were a little delirious — there's an uncomfortable pull at your centre of gravity, the vertigo stirring your nausea. Unaware, the Mer uses your chest as if it were a crib, sinks into you with claws pressed carefully to your back where he holds you. His hair smells like the sea, slightly briny and fresh like air, and it is wet against your skin. You feel like you’re splintering, splitting away from your physical self as you cling to consciousness.

“Shouta,” you say, a mouth full of cotton. He lights up reflexively, a flush of crimson, and you can’t help but be reminded of phytoplankton hidden amongst foreign shores, where wet sand by the tideline glows ever so slightly when touched. Your vision is already tunnelling as your eyes meet. “I’m going to pass out”. 

Then, nothing.

Purgatory is odd. It’s a vast empty space, nothing but the magnetism of two forces working against one another. You are rocked in and out of consciousness, quite literally — it’s as if you’re being swayed left to right, surrounded by white noise and light too bright to look at. 

Everything is blue, with murky yellow framing your field of vision. The raft, you recognise, though the implication of where you are doesn’t truly register. As your body lays adrift it passes through a formation of rock; the underside has weathered away into an overhang, misshapen over the years. It looks a little like a turtle's face carved into the stone, a tidbit that your memory clings to. Your tongue is dry, stuck unpleasantly to the roof of your mouth as you black out a second time. 

“Holy shit. Is that—?!”

There are voices in the darkness, tethering you a little closer to the surface of your consciousness. Aware enough that you hear your name being called, the sound of someone crying, the abrupt tug of your body. 

“You! Call the ambulance!”

“Shou…ta…” your brows pinch into a wince with a rasped breath, arms slipping beneath your back and pulling you onto wet, warm sand. He’s using voices you’ve never heard before, muffled in your ears as you’re jostled further up the beach. You want him to wait for a moment, to wait for things to stop spinning, but the words don’t come. 

“They’re breathing, quick!”

“We’ve got you, darlin’. You’ll get help real soon”.

When you finally come to, it is with an intense sense of confusion. You’re tucked nicely into a plush bed, fitted with clean white sheets that smell faintly of vanilla. The linens are soft against your skin as you begin to rouse, sensation returning to your hands and feet. Beyond the vanilla is the scent of disinfectant and bleach, strong enough to indicate this place had been very recently cleaned. Your forefinger feels heavy, something clamped tightly around it, and the crook of your arm throbs uncomfortably as you move. 

There’s a sharp weight around your mouth and nose, the volume of your breathing louder than expected. An oxygen mask, you recognise. Your eyes open wearily, squinting to sharpen the blurred objects in your field of vision. You’re met with washed out blue walls, so pale they could be mistaken for grey, and lower you find the edge of your cot. Tilting your head into the pillow, glancing to your left you find a white bedside table adorned with cards and flowers, a balloon floating precariously by your drip stand. An IV bag hangs from the hooks, the tube untangled and leading right to the pinch in your arm. 

You inhale deeply and find your lungs expand with ease, though still tender. You didn’t feel good, but you felt better. Somehow, you had been brought into a hospital and treated. The last few of your memories are fragmented, at a loss of what happened and when, of whether it was real or imagined. Shouta… had the Mer taken you back to shore himself? 

Why? 

That thought draws attention to the lack of a ring on your right hand. The scale is gone, too. It wouldn’t be surprising if they had been lost along the beach as you were transported into the ambulance — the ring had been too big for your finger, after all. Oddly, you find yourself mourning the loss of it. It had been pretty, a gift from him. And it was the only proof you had that he’d been real. 

“Yes… responding well… soon enough…”

A distant voice, both mellow and comforting, pours in where your door is left ajar. The conversation becomes clearer the closer they get, accompanied by the echo of footsteps reverberating along the hallway, until eventually they are stepping into your room.

“…released if there are no further complications,” a woman walks in with her attention on the violet haired man following closely behind, seemingly trying to soothe the anxiety present on his face. 

Hitoshi nods along with hands tucked deep into his jacket pockets, the bags beneath his eyes more prominent than you remembered. Over the doctor's shoulder, his gaze flickers towards you once, and then twice with realisation. “You’re— you’re awake!” he exclaims, speeding over to your bedside. 

“‘Toshi,” you rasp, ignoring the tug of the IV needle as you reach out to take his hand. He’s shaking, squeezing tightly like you might slip through his fingers. It tempers your own anxiety, reassures you that you really are here. 

“Yeah,” he replies, voice wet as he grins, “I’m right here. So are you”.

The doctor does well at lingering naturally and you’re grateful for it, tending to the clipboard at the end of your bed with the pen clipped on her breast pocket, giving you your moment of reunion. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this exhausted, like the synapses in your brain are a few seconds behind, eventually squeezing him back. “Are you�� okay?” you ask, fogging up the clear mask moulded tight to your face. 

He laughs; a pained sound torn between disbelief and sadness. At that his head drops forward, pressing your intertwined hands to his forehead. “You’re unbelievable. How can you be worried about me at a time like this?”

“Y’look… sad…” you grimace with each laboured breath, “…what happened?”

He looks at you, mouth now moving against your knuckles as he speaks. “Some people by the boardwalk saw a life raft adrift and called help to check it out. They all started panicking when they realised you were in it”. 

The raft he’d set up for you, partially deflated and softened with anything he could find. The distinct rock face, the sound of the tide. Somehow after losing consciousness you had made it from that damp cave to the beach. Hitoshi observes you for a moment, but ultimately continues after your silence. 

“You’d been missing for three and a half days. After we left you at the beach… I— we shouldn’t have gone home without you”.

“It’s not—!” your reassurances are interrupted as you begin to cough, a tight burning sensation blooming throughout your chest. His features twist in obvious guilt, leaning forward to help you sit upright and clear your lungs, fluffing the pillows at your back. It’s then that the attending doctor decides to introduce herself.

“I’m happy to see your eyes open again. My name is Dr. Miura Rin, I have been overseeing your treatment since you first arrived in our care”.

You nod. With your breathing calmer, albeit exerted, you allow Hitoshi to fuss with the linens. 

“Following a CT scan and an ultrasound we found you had what we call an acute edema of the lung — fluid in your lungs, in basic terms. It can happen to victims of near drowning such as yourself,” she continues to explain patiently, pausing only to assure you have no questions before she continues. “We administered an IV for the dehydration, and a diuretic called Lasix to reduce the pressure caused by the fluid build up”.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d just like to take a little listen to your lungs,” she gestures to the stethoscope hung around her neck, the chest piece tucked in the pocket of her scrubs. You agree without complaint and with the tips tucked into her ears she extends the diaphragm, slipping it beneath the collar of your hospital gown. 

“Sorry, dear. This might be a little cold,” she murmurs the forewarning before placing it against your clavicle. It is cold, but you have been colder. “Take two deep breaths for me”. 

You inhale a full breath, ignoring the soreness and the itch in your throat, and repeat following an exhale. She hums, expression giving nothing away as she guides the stethoscope across your chest in a zigzag pattern, pausing in each new spot and asking for another breath. “Alright,” Hitoshi sits up a little straighter at the pleased tone in her voice, “I like what I’m hearing. No crackling or wheezing, nice and clear. We would like to do a few additional tests just to ensure there won’t be long term complications, but otherwise – you’re looking good!”

“Thank fuck,” Hitoshi rasps. You laugh through the throb in your sternum, fiddling aimlessly with your naked ring finger as you give your own offer of thanks. Dr. Miura smiles and it immediately quells your restlessness. She’s a good fit for her role, you think. 

She leaves with a wave and the promise of returning later in the day. “A nurse will be around with some food for you soon. Try to eat what you can”.

“Lucky you,” Hitoshi smirks as he watches her leave, “you’ll get to finally try the slop they serve here”.

He’d been hospitalised here when he was much younger after having appendicitis, and complained about the porridge they gave him for days after being discharged. You remember how he had described the consistency, theatrically clutching his stomach as if he were sick just thinking about it. 

Thick, gloopy, wet slop. You can almost feel it between your fingers. Mushed into paste, held between palms. The memory is so vivid you can smell the brine. Hitoshi calls your name, concerned by your sudden silence, and in returning to reality you find your hands cupped together over the sheets. “Are you alright?” 

“Did… did I have a ring and a scale with me when you guys brought me in?”

He makes a sound of agreement, taking something from his jacket pocket and dropping it into your open palm before propping himself onto his elbows atop your mattress. “You weren’t lucid by any means but you were clutching them like it’d kill you to let go. One of the nurses gave them to me after they admitted you”.

A shiver runs through you. Seeing the small gifts so clearly in broad daylight relieves so much of the tension in your body that you might cry, the teal hue of the ring brightening under the change in temperature. Shouta really had been real. “If I tell you something will you believe me?” 

He frowns at your sudden change in demeanour, but nods all the same. And so you tell him all of it — the inhuman rendition of his voice and ink dipped claws, bioluminescent eyes peering over the ocean’s surface, the human-like arms that cradled and tried to feed you through your fear. You do not look at him, too afraid to see the emotions as they pass over his expression. 

Retelling it almost leaves you with a sense of wistfulness, along with a litany of questions you might never have answers to. “I remember bits and pieces afterwards. I think after I passed out he panicked, or realised he couldn’t help me, and brought me back to the beach,” you tilt the scale and it shimmers red. “I recognised some of it. I think I vaguely know the area that he kept me in”. 

“You want to go looking for it,” Hitoshi interjects accusingly. “Say I choose to believe you, I absolutely refuse to let you go back by yourself. Jirou, Sero and the others won’t either”. 

“You can’t Hitoshi, he’d kill you”.

“And you’re so sure he won’t kill you?”

“He didn’t!” you snap, hand curling into a fist. The stainless steel of the ring presses against the heel of your palm, and the momentary frustration seeps from your body, “…he didn’t”. 

Silence fills the room and you can feel him staring at your profile as you tuck your chin, embarrassed at how defensive you’d gotten. There was an oppressive vacancy in your chest at the thought of never seeing him again that you just couldn’t understand — you should be happy to be home. 

“I’ll take a GPS tracker with me this time, so you can send help if there’s trouble. He might not even be there anymore,” you faltered at the tightening of your lungs, glancing down once more to the scale as your fingers unfurl. As expected, it returns its shape easily, no crease left where it had bent. The mood ring is a mottled brown colour, undecided on just where your emotions landed. 

Hitoshi sighs, sinking forward to rest his forehead against your thigh. “Pops always warned us about Mer,” he mutters, “I thought it was bullshit. Poor guy is probably rolling in his grave”.

You card a comforting hand through his hair, gentling twirling the ends around your fingertips and ignoring the uncomfortable pull of your IV. “Fuck. Do you think he’s always been around here?” he continues.

“No. With the way he handled me you’d think he had never seen a human up close before”.

“For longer than it takes to eat them, you mean?” Hitoshi returns dryly. You pull his roots a little harder and he huffs, nuzzling into the linen. 

“His colouring was really dark and he demonstrated bioluminescence a number of times,” you murmur your thoughts aloud, grateful that you can finally voice them, “if I had to guess from that, he probably lives in the deep sea most of the time. I don’t think he’s been here before”.

You meet Hitoshi’s eyes, narrowed in suspicion. “Bioluminescence? Along with the gifts, the hand feeding and using your loved ones' voices, don’t you think that’s a little…”

“A little?” 

“Don’t deep benthic fish use bioluminescence to communicate stuff like mating?” 

Your lips part to refute his claim, but the words clot in your throat. Now that it’s laid out in front of you, the theory seems obvious. But it couldn’t be that — what would a majestic creature like Shouta want with a frail human like you? Must less as a partner. 

“I don’t think so,” you mutter weakly, tapping the pulse oximeter against his cheekbone in retaliation, “he isn’t a fish, Hitoshi. He’s probably just curious, or lonely”. 

“You’re doin’ that thing. What’s it called again, attributing human characteristics to an animal? Anthropomorphising?”  

“Fuck you,” you rasp. The back of your eyes feel sore as you roll them, a wave of exhaustion rolling steadily over you. Whenever that porridge came, it would fortunately have to wait. “You’ll help me, right?”

He relents and nods, his chin digging into your thigh as he speaks, looking displeased. “Pops told me once that to kill a Mer you have to pierce their lungs or something, so they drown in their own blood. Kinda ironic, isn’t it?” 

You could only hope it wouldn’t come to that. 

It takes another day for the tests and results to come back, twelve additional hours spent restlessly staring out of the far window to catch a glimpse of the thin stripe of sea in the distance. Upon your release you are quickly accosted by your friends, Jirou in particular insisting that she stay with you in your apartment for a few nights in case anything goes wrong, and Hitoshi does nothing to help you in refusing the offer. 

Even if he planned to help, he didn’t want you going back out there so soon after your recovery. You’d worried them all immensely, and if mothering you for a short while would help temper that anxiety, you were glad to give it to them. 

You don’t tell anyone else about Shouta. 

By the time things have settled back into some semblance of normality, it has already been a week since you were pulled from the stray liferaft. The sand is familiar and warm around the soles of your feet, sinking with every step taken towards the shoreline. “He’s probably gone by now,” Hitoshi says, close at your heels and trying to convince you to stay.

“Then it’ll be fine, won’t it?” you retort with an affectionate glance over your shoulder, his board tucked under your arm. You were clad in a dark rashvest and swim shorts this time, as your springsuit had been completely ruined after the hospital staff cut it away from you, though you didn’t mind. The thought of wearing it still made you a little nauseous. 

Tight around your wrist was the waterproof GPS tracker, as you’d promised. It was quite garish, a very neon shade of pink, but you supposed the point was for it to be eye-catching from a distance. On your finger sits the mood ring, while the scale hangs low over your breasts on a thin silver chain. “Give me until sundown and then you can panic. It’ll take me a while to get out there if it’s where I think it is,” you tell him. 

His left cheek indents slightly as he chews it between his molars. Without words, he pulls you into a hug, bodies awkwardly distant as he avoids bumping into your board. “I don’t like this,” he breathes. I know, you want to say. It was surprising he was being so lenient, but after all your years as friends he must’ve known that you would sneak out alone if he didn’t accompany you. 

“I still think you should take a weapon”.

“What if he gets mad because I’ve brought something threatening?” 

“What if he gets mad and you don’t have something threatening,” he counters, the stress palpable in his voice. He tightens his hold for a moment, and then loosens his grip for you to step away. 

“He tried to feed me like a baby bird, ‘Toshi. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless, but I really do think he won’t hurt me,” you murmur with what you hope is a reassuring smile. “Not on purpose, atleast”. 

“Jesus. Just, get out of here before I drag you back to your apartment,” he sighs, restlessly running a hand through his hair as he encourages you towards the shore. 

You go with an air of determination, steady when you walk out into the water, bracing against the waves as they roll out onto the beach. Waiting for the foam to dissolve so you can see where you’re stepping, you ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in your sternum and place your board onto the surface for support. 

Wading out further, you see the last wave in the set begin to break once the level reaches your hip. Steeling yourself, you elevate the board slightly and jump, using the momentum to hop onto it and begin paddling on your front. Lifting your chest over each wave that then follows, there is a profound ache in your arms by the time you reach the distinct rock formation; it is just as you remembered, extending out into the ocean from the cliffs.

You see it then. Just beyond, there is a cavity on the cliffside. A shiver runs along the length of your spine and you instinctively curl into yourself, pausing your advance for a moment. If he was in there, or close by, he would surely know you were here, and you find yourself scanning the depths beneath your board for signs of a shadow. 

You had resolved not to be afraid, yet you still hoped he wouldn’t sneak up on you. 

In the light of day, you can make out the seabed of the cave as the water shallows. At the far, far end is the ledge you had been placed on, built much deeper into the cliff than you first thought. You linger by the entrance, as if hanging beneath a doorway and peering into a room, calling out his name cautiously. 

“Shouta?” 

The reverb is eerie, dragged out as it continues to bounce further into the hollow. If you weren’t already listening intently you might’ve missed the sound of disturbance from behind you, the rippling of the surface as something breaks it. Reacting reflexively, you grip the edge of your board as if you might again be pulled from it. 

Then you hear them, the gentle clicks. With all your courage you glance over your shoulder towards the source, a breath held in your lungs as your eyes meet with the Mer’s. His eyes are just above the water, dark hair billowing around him as the ocean breathes to reveal the tips of his finned ears. There’s something unmistakably cautious in how he approaches you, the length of his tail sluicing him toward your figure. 

Under the sun he looks warmer, less sickly and macabre; and even then he had been handsome. The expression on his face suggests that he thinks you’re stupid for coming back out here. He might get along with Hitoshi after all. 

“Hi,” you say, giving a hesitant wave. With his sight drawn to your chest, he becomes so still in the water that you worry he might sink. “I wanted to– to thank you for taking me back before”. 

He blinks, one set and then the second, still keeping his distance. The silence is unsettling, and you continue your tremulous ramble. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring your raft back with me… I’m pretty sure the locals got rid of it. I was in the hospital for a little while but I feel better now”. 

At that, he hums. It’s short but you recognise it — the purr-like rumbling in the back of his throat. Around him, the water vibrates. He’s close enough now that he could theoretically grab you, and you’re more than aware that the noise could be to lower your guard, but there is no sign of the merciless, sharp-toothed grin you saw back then. With how careful he was being, you’d almost think he felt guilty. 

“Why did you take me back?”

When he finally lifts his head to speak, revealing the lower half of his face, where small dark scales litter the curve of his jawline. The man you hear is not one you’ve ever met before. His tone is rich, low and resonant: “I'm only able to heal surface wounds. I can't court you if you’re dead”. 

The voice alarms both of you — though you are far more preoccupied in processing the implications behind courting — and Shouta frowns before momentarily submerging himself beneath your board with inky fingers held to his jugular. Admittedly, you are comforted to see him just as disorientated as you are. 

A moment later, he emerges far to the right of you and begins circling the board at a distance with an aura of suspicion. “What do you mean by courting? And whose voice was that?” 

“Courting, meaning I prove to you I am capable and able to provide for you as a mate,” he explains flatly, eyes narrowing on the scale resting over your breasts. “And that I can please you with gifts or other means, so that you will choose me and stay with me”. 

You cough, repressing the urge to wet your lips. Given his confusion, you don’t think he’s attempting to lure you with whoever’s voice this is; but it is so naturally alluring, pleasing on the ears and attractive. 

“But I can’t stay here,” is your obtuse reply, far too stuck on the realisation that he had taken you with the intent of keeping you as his partner. 

“You think my den isn’t good enough?”

“No that’s—!” your hands clench and unfurl in your lap as you pause to steady your breathing, to keep yourself grounded and remain balanced on the board. “I didn’t say that. The cave is wonderful, I can see that you— you’ve worked hard in making it”.

“Then?”

“I’m human. I can’t live here, Shouta,” a soft zip of crimson flushes to the tips of his finned ears, outlining the intricate patterns formed by his veins, and your pride inflates at the influence your voice has on him. His name, from your mouth. 

You wondered if this was a fraction of the thrill a Mer felt in luring people to sea. 

“I’m a human. I can’t eat the things you bring for me, I can’t drink from this cave, I can’t breathe under water,” your thoughts follow your line of sight, appraising every dark corner of the cavern from the entrance, eventually falling upon the mountain of dumped out towels you had slept in. You laugh humourlessly. “I can’t provide anything for you either, and I doubt I can even bear your young. It has nothing to do with your cave’s suitability, Shouta. It’s about my own”. 

With everything you list to him his blank expression thaws into what you might call tenderness, a familiar muted rumbling in his throat. His second approach is gradual as you prattle on, so careful that one minute he is still suspended lazily in the sea and then he is not, suddenly crowding into your space. You inhale sharply as he rocks the board. 

“Are you questioning my judgement?”

The words are soothing as he speaks, seeping between muscle fibres and marrow until you’re drunk with it.  They carry a low, authoritative baritone that reminds you of just how many centuries he might’ve lived. You may never get sick of hearing it. 

“Yes!” you reply, exasperated. It doesn’t escape you just how fast you’d gotten comfortable interacting with him so casually. It is clearly him, and yet he seems so different now. Less... feral. “It doesn’t make any sense. Humans are like… food, to you”. 

He hums offhandedly, iridescent tail propelling him until he’s bobbing at the foot of your board. The scales are noticeably brighter now, like he’s peacocking. With finned ears visible his dark hair fans out across the ocean’s surface as he looks at you, stray wet strands clinging to his cheeks, a large hand extending to wrap around your ankle. The grip is loose, neither threat nor warning. He seems to like touching you. 

“Humans aren’t good for our stomachs, you never know what they’ve ingested. Mer don’t eat them unless they’re desperate,” he explains, speaking slowly as if correcting a misinformed child, “that day my instincts insisted that I grab you, because I’d only ever pursued things in hunger until then”. 

“So you did intend to eat me?” 

“I did,” he concedes tiredly.

“And that just somehow evolved into me being a suitable mate for you?” 

The gills lining his throat flutter as he huffs, sending small ripples across the water, and you try not to smile. A startling warmth blossoms in your chest, enjoying how you’re teasing him. He must notice, because he lightly knocks your board in retaliation, and you yelp as you regain balance once again. 

“I didn’t understand the difference. I rarely go so close to the surface, and was inexplicably drawn to you,” the inflection in his voice changes, deepens, and you shiver. “I’d already bitten you before I realised what this hunger meant. After you touched me I became almost primitive, and overly sensitive. It clouded my judgement”.

The playful atmosphere dims, and you swallow the lump in your throat. His fingers slide further up your ankle to your calf, hooked claws pebbling the skin. You dare ask: “sensitive?” 

“You were so… hot to touch, even after I pulled you under into the cold,” he sounds a little breathless, and his grip on you briefly tightens, “so soft against me. I knew intuitively that you were mine, I’ve never been so reactive to something before”.

His expression pinches softly then, and you recognise the regret. “As I said, I was driven by instinct. It was irrational and I ended up harming you because of it. I never imagined, or intended to find you this way”. 

Every part of you feels cold, all except the point where your bodies meet. You ask him again. “And this voice that you’re using? I thought you could only use the voices of the people I want or care for”. 

He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, casting his eyes across the seam of the horizon. “Are all humans as oblivious to their own emotions as you?”  

“I’m not sure what— what you mean,” you stammer as his arm stretches towards you to take your face into his large hand, jaw held between his thumb and fingers, claws curling lightly into the swell of your cheek. Given the difference in your heights you are forced to bow forward to where he floats, and your board tips slightly. 

Curtained by his hair, his scar is clearer than ever, pink and inflamed where it curves beneath his eye. He could very well tear your throat out, and yet you are simply wondering what it was that hurt him. You watch as it lifts with his grin. 

“This voice is mine”. 

The implication flusters you. Regardless of how attractive he was, or how nice he sounded, your main point stands. “That still doesn’t mean I’m going to accept any of this,” you say. 

With a quiet hum, Shouta tilts his head, the grin waning into soft amusement as light pools around his irises. “You paddled all the way out here, to where you’re practically helpless, to tell me no?” 

You should be frightened, but he doesn’t appear to be threatening you at all. He’s laughing at you. “So humans are irrational and dense, yet they still think with their feelings,” he muses, breath cool against your lips, a claw tracing crescent shapes beneath your eye, “despite the mistakes I made with clouded judgement, despite scaring you, you came back. And you’re even proudly wearing my courting gifts”.

Embarrassment washes over you and you’re pulling away, instinctively snapping as your pride splinters, “I didn’t know that they were courting gifts—!”

“All you knew was that they were from me,” he interrupts, a soothing yet knowing lilt to his words, like he was reassuring you it was safe to admit. “And that was enough to keep them close”. 

In truth, you had held his little offerings dear. You had wanted to see him, and in all likelihood, would want to again. The morbid curiosity and attraction that magnetised you to him rang far louder than your common sense and self preservation. Deep, deep down, a part of you felt special in having him to yourself. 

He murmurs something inaudible, hands grazing the swell of your breasts as he slides them down to your hips and squeezes as if to encourage you into the water. “Shouta,” you breathe, unable to put a finger on what it meant; stop, yes, a warning, a plea, an apology, touch me, let go of me. The sound of his name kindles visibly under his scales. It’s cute, now that you think about it. Like he’s blushing. 

“You like that, don’t you?” 

Your brow pinches questioningly, both of you still suspended by the cave’s entrance and waiting for what will come next. At the very least, your absence over the last few days settled his ferality, because you hadn’t yet been dragged into the ocean. “The way my body responds to your voice. It feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Shamefully, you nod. His grip tightens as a larger wave rolls in towards the cliffside, steadying you when your board lifts with it. “Just like how you can visibly see my reactions, I can see all of yours,” a hand then lowers to the top of your thigh to cautiously trace the inseam of your shorts, “I know what you want instinctively, it’s how a Mer coaxes human’s into the ocean. Even if you don’t show it, I can feel it. I can taste it. You don’t need to be ashamed of it”.

He was giving you permission to want him. Had he known you needed that, too? Could he sense it? 

“What would— what are you going to do if I get in the water?” you feel yourself trembling, a familiar ache spreading through your navel against all better judgement.  

“I will prove that I can please you, with gifts and other means,” he repeats his earlier explanation, the atmosphere stifling as he continues to touch you. His tone is calm, but you hear the clear suggestion. 

“I need to be home by sundown,” your thighs clench and you avert your gaze to the neon pink tracker clasped around your wrist, “if I’m not they’ll be able to find me with this. I mean it when I say I can’t stay, Shouta”. 

If he’s displeased by the tracker, he doesn’t show it. “Then I’ll make you want to come back,” he replies plainly, your body sliding forward as he applies a little more force, and you let him. You slip from the board into the sea along with him, held securely to his chest as his arms keep you afloat. Hissing at the sudden change in temperature, you clutch at his shoulders and feel your lungs ache. 

Now that you’re back in his embrace you remember just how big he is. Under your touch his skin is smooth and slightly rubbery; it’s thick, below that his musculature shifts, and sinking your nails into it doesn’t bother him. His tail undulates and moves him further into the den, a foreboding loss of light the further in you go. Supported by him and the water, you feel oddly weightless. 

Another larger wave passes through, slowing as it hits the rocks dotted throughout the cave’s corridor. As it reaches the nest, Shouta rolls with it to smoothly hoist you up onto the lip of the ledge, and you startle with the complete lack of exertion it took to do it. 

Your surfwear is completely wet now, clinging unpleasantly to your skin. The rock’s surface beneath you is cold, slipperier where the patches of biofilm and moss have bloomed. It’s hardly comfortable, but you’re incognisant to it as Shouta’s clawed hands gently part your knees, allowing himself to bob between your thighs. 

The delicate gills at his throat flutter as he breathes, each leg hooking over his shoulders the closer he gets, until he is eventually bracing himself against the edge with his arms either side of you. His bulk forces you back onto your elbows and anticipation twists in your belly, unable to look away from him as he leisurely noses along the inside of your shorts towards your centre. 

“Wait,” without thought, you thread your fingers into his hair, pushing it back to reveal more of his face. He pauses at the touch and allows you to hold him there, half lidded eyes burning up as they watch you patiently. “It… it isn’t fair to do this all your way. Without talking about it. What if humans do things far differently, and you end up hurting me again?”

He hums and leans into the palm of your hand, pushing against your force with ease. You don’t know whether to be relieved that he had stopped, or frightened that you held absolutely no power here. “I’ll humour you, then. Tell me what you want me to do,” he says. 

You lick your lips, noticing as his gaze follows the movement of your tongue and heat simmers under your skin, whispering his name with a shaky exhale. It flushes through him, finned ears fanning out for a moment, and you allow the reaction to bolster your courage.

“A kiss,” you tell him, “I want a kiss first. That’s— that’s customary for most humans”. 

“A kiss?” he repeats it as if he were tasting something new, feeling the word in his own mouth. 

“Mer don’t kiss?” he shakes his head, a thin veil of irritation cast over his features at the lack of knowledge, “then, how do you show one another affection as... mates?” 

He briefly submerges to slip your legs from his shoulders, this time bracing himself on his forearms on the cave floor and leaning up to remain at your eye level. Flustered by the proximity, your thighs clench either side of his hips. Against your skin, his scales have an almost silky texture to them when they’re wet. His tail slaps the surface of the water and his jaw twitches, annoyed by the involuntary reaction.

That’s right, his body reacted strongly to you too. Maybe you did hold some leeway afterall. 

“Partners show affection by intertwining or grooming one another's tails,” he says. His tone is softer, the soothing rumbling back in his chest. It sounded to you like wistful longing. “We lick one another in sensitive places to heal or display trust,” as he continues to explain he tilts to press his mouth to your neck, running his wet, thick tongue from clavicle to jugular. A shiver runs along the length of your spine at the tickle of the fringing, and you try to reciprocate when he turns to press his gills against your smooth throat, “or we do this to greet one another”. 

Your body is hot, even with the weight of his cold torso. You wondered just how warm you felt to him. 

Then he is backing away to encircle your wrist with dark, clawed fingers. “And this, too,” he guides your hand back into his hair, then further to his finned ear. Gently, you rub the flesh between your thumb and forefinger, the ache between your thighs beating with your quickening pulse as he exhales a soft groan. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you say, slightly breathless, tracing another finger along the thin membrane to enjoy how his arms tremble. 

“Now you,” he replies, told through gritted teeth. He was restraining himself for the sake of indulging you. 

The hand by his ear moves to cup one side of his face, and your right lifts to cup the other, cradling him in your palms. “Human’s show affection in a lot of ways, but partners will kiss each other often,” you hesitate, his nose bumping into yours as you lean in. His lips are slightly agape, his stare heavy and wanting as he waits for you to guide him. “Like this, just…” following the slight angling of your head, you softly press your mouth to his. 

At first he is unresponsive and you pull away in concern, but then the water is surging like foam up the walls of the cave as he presses himself into you, chasing the sensation. It forces you flat to your back, but you find you don’t mind in the slightest as he clumsily tries to mimic how you had kissed him. 

“Slower… you don’t need to push so much,” you murmur, squirming at the pressure of his pelvis where it rubs against your core. He heeds your instruction, working his mouth languidly alongside your own, a pleased rumbling vibrating through your skin. He startles for a short moment at the feeling of your tongue along the seam of his lips.

“Open your mouth,” and he does. It’s nothing like the first time — his tongue does not push itself into your cheeks, instead Shouta waits as your own lightly drags over his teeth, a frisson of excitement in your stomach at the danger. You kiss him deeper and he moves with you in tandem,  greedily swallowing every whimper as he circles his pelvis between your thighs. The scales there create a slightly ribbed sensation that you can’t help but to grind against. 

When you part there’s a quiet, wet sound, drowned out by the buzz of the ocean. “That’s what a kiss is,” you say, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

He stares at your lips, a little swollen now, his pupils blown and ringed with crimson. “I like it,” he mutters, “can I kiss you where I first intended to, now?” 

Your thoughts flash back to his face tucked into the crease of your thighs, and they instinctively clench around his hips. He must know, must feel it, because the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. You nod to give him permission and he descends the length of your body, dazed as you brace yourself back onto your elbows while he carefully hooks a claw into the waistband of your shorts. 

“Don’t tear them!” you blurt, covering his large hand with yours, “I need to wear them again. Just– just let me take them off”. 

Your skin has begun to dry in the humid air of the cave, so it’s more than a relief to peel off the rubbery damp material. Shouta grunts but ultimately releases his grip, sinking back into the pool of water to wet his gills while he watches. No sooner than you have discarded the shorts to the side, he is crowding back into your space to push his face against your pussy. With both legs hooked over his shoulders, half of his body still suspended in the water, he starts to breathe you in. 

The low hum he releases vibrates over your clit and seeps into your limbs until you’re struggling to remain upright. “You smell so good,” he murmurs, his lips shaping the words against you. You feel as he mimics another kiss, his tongue dipping into your folds, gasping as the fringe circles your entrance. “You taste good, too”. 

Your legs flex either side of his head, jerking at the cool lap of his tongue along your slit. “You don’t self lubricate, do you?” 

You barely have the wherewithal to speak, nevermind to explain human anatomy. He’s careful with his teeth as he mouths at your clit, spreading the back of your thighs with clawed hands, still light with his touch. It’s right there, you think — your femoral artery. All it would take for him is one nick. 

“In a manner of speaking,” though probably not enough for whatever he has hidden. Your reply is strained as he teases himself inside of you, more explorative than it is purposeful. The intent didn’t matter, not with how good it was to feel him slowly lose himself in it, as if he set out to learn the things you liked and the things you didn't, but became too busy getting his own fill. His tongue is cooling and thick where it pushes into you, your hands hastily threaded amongst his hair for leverage at the indelible stroke of the trim as it pulls out. 

“How is your body this hot inside?”

You feel him groan as your spine bows, fingers slipping to toy with his finned ears in retaliation. The hues in the cave grow warmer, the bioluminescence of his scales refracting off the water. The fringe on his tongue curls inwards, as he had done days ago when offering you food from his own mouth, and clasps around your clit. 

Your hips arch, hands simultaneously holding his face closer to your pussy. Encouraged by the wanton call of his name, Shouta begins to gently suck on your clit, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, intense and concentrated, your senses heightened by the stark difference in temperature. 

His arms come to push down on your stomach as you squirm against him. Focused only on that spot, you feel yourself clenching helplessly around the emptiness as a familiar coil tightens in your belly. The deep, rumbling growl emitting from his throat vibrates around your clit intermittently and draws your orgasm closer to the surface, as if all the nerve endings in your body were calling out to him. 

“Please,” your thighs quiver where they’re hooked over his broad shoulders, toes beginning to curl. “Just… keep going just like that. I’m gonna cum—!”

You crest with claws pressed into the soft parts of your stomach; Shouta holds you closer as if he wanted to sink into you, tongue moving in circular motions as you cum with a broken moan, hissing at the dull impact of your head to the rocky surface. 

Your orgasm pulses through you until it simmers, vision blurring faintly at the edges as his touch continues a tad too enthusiastically and you start to become oversensitive. His lip curls as you fail to push him away — you’d be too weak even at full strength, never mind when your limbs are weak as they are now. “Stop. Stop, Shouta,” you complain, a faint whine to your voice. 

He concedes, unlatching his mouth and lapping through your folds for a final time. His cheeks are wet where they nuzzle into your inner thigh, his tongue cool and soothing against the heat. The cold sensation travels up to your navel, dark hands sneaking under the fabric of your swim shirt to slip it over your breasts where he can taste more of you, the chain with his scale resting atop your sternum. Dazedly, you ghost your fingers along his biceps to the curve of his throat, lingering by his gills as they flutter with a heady breath beneath his hair. 

“You’re softer than anything I’ve ever felt,” he says, licking over your pert nipple and releasing a pleased sound at the surface reaction of your body. Hair raised, skin pebbling. The air is hot and damp, your arousal is glistening on his chin, and the scales by his jaw are flared red. “Your song is so sweet when I touch you like this”. 

Your song? Is that what it sounded like to him, to Merfolk? The thought brings a tender smile to your lips. It was oddly romantic for such supposedly monstrous creatures. Your eyes flicker towards the cave’s entrance to gauge the position of the sun, glad that you still have a little longer with him.

Continuing up the length of your torso, Shouta holds his weight up on his forearms either side of your head, encasing you beneath his body until all you could see, feel or think was him. Chest to chest, his tail twitches abruptly as your thighs cradle his hips. There’s no discomfort as he rolls against you, just curiosity. You can feel it — something swelling, pressing up against your pussy. 

“Is that…?”

He shifts upwards and watches you intently, waiting for your response. Peering through the small space where your bodies meet, you see it. A paper-thin, vertical slit a few inches below his navel, the area around it bulging slightly. You pause before reaching to touch, first seeking his approval with a quick glance. Hair falling loosely over his face, the clear hunger in his eyes strums at your centre of gravity. 

With deft fingers, you massage around the bump, cautiously tracing your thumb down the slit. Above you, Shouta’s body shudders; he murmurs your name with want colouring his voice, rich and alluring, and you begin to understand then how men are so easily drawn into the ocean’s depths.  

Repeating the stroke of your thumb, this time with a little more pressure, you stare in rapt fascination as the slit widens and wets the pads of your fingers. Gradually the motions begin to coax what you assume is the head of his cock into the open, Shouta then releasing a low, breathless moan by the shell of your ear. As it continues to spill out, you realise just how big it is, and significantly pinker than the rest of him. It’s slick, smooth and moving independently as you touch it, wrapping around the thicker base and stroking your fist experimentally up to the narrow tip. You hear the loud, distant slap of his tail in the water, watching as he attempts to roll his hips. He’s trying to be patient while your mind plays catch up, but there’s a growing sense of anxiety you can't ignore.

Your body was not made for this, for something — someone, like him. Your palms are slick, strings of his fluid delicate between your skin and his. You’re unable to look away from him, there’s arousal pooling in your belly at the muffled desperate sounds he’s making, and a far off sense of shame. How would you even make it work, how would it fit? 

Putting aside your embarrassment, you ask him. 

“Lie back and I’ll show you,” he rasps between laborious breaths, hanging his head low between his shoulders to reach your mouth to kiss you. It’s clumsy, and his teeth nip your lower lip, drawing a bead of blood that he quickly licks. The momentary sting diminishes. “Take as much as you can, as much as you want. After this it’s yours”. 

Relinquishing your grip and relaxing back into the hard surface beneath you, Shouta uses one hand to gently part your knees further. He stares at the space where your bodies meet while your eyes are latched to the open mouthed desperation present on his face, his brows pinching as you feel the tip of his cock glide through your folds of its own accord. 

“Fuck that’s— okay,” you inhale a gasp as it rubs smoothly over your clit and back, teasing around your entrance. Despite knowing his temperature is cooler, it still startles you to feel him, much softer than initially expected. Almost tongue-like, wet and soft as it begins to press into you. 

He’s big. Your jaw slacks as you whimper, clutching to the forearms propped either side of your head as you start to feel the stretch. He’s trembling, a low moan pulled from his chest that feels as if it anaesthetises you. The discomfort becomes muted, replaced by an all encompassing pressure. Just when you think you might’ve taken it all, there is more, and it seeks to fill the spaces in you that you could never reach with your own fingers. 

Leaning his forehead to yours, dark hair falling loosely to curtain your faces, he kisses you again. He must like that, you think. In turn, your fingers trace the line of his gills, causing his hips to jerk forward. “Ah—!” you hiss, the texture of his scales silken against the back of your thighs as your cunt spasms around him.

You don’t think it would be possible to feel him any deeper. He’s splitting you open, carving out a space for himself. You’re panting; trying to take steady, long breaths to slow your pulse, air bloating your lungs. It’s as if it didn’t matter where or how he moved his hips, he kept finding sensitive places to touch you. “See,” his lips move against your own as he speaks, so surrounded and swallowed by him that it was as if he was your world. “I knew you would be perfect”. 

Knees clamped either side of his hips, he shifts his tail further up the ledge for more leverage and you feel the featherlight ghost of his lateral fin to the inside of your calf, a dark shade of red leaking steadily to his caudal fin like a blush. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he grunts, voice straining while his hips raise to allow space to move. Either side of his head are his finned ears, fanning out with a dull glow. The tepid, wet slide of his cock as it fucks into you plucks the air from your lungs, hands pawing at his biceps as the swell fills you over and over. 

The cave is a cacophony of whines, strung out moans, the lewd wet sound of your arousal with each thrust. The water below is thrashing, and you don’t think it’s the waves. He groans your name and you reflexively respond with his own. It’s overwhelming, eyes squeezing shut for a few short moments as his pace quickens. Your muscles are drained of all rigidity, malleable and pliant in his stifling embrace as he reaches to hoist your thigh further up by his hip. 

Somehow limbless, yet your core winding tighter still, you feel yourself nearing the edge as the hand by your thigh moves to palm your breasts. You’re clenching down on his cock with each slick stroke, rendered helpless to the pleasure as his movements become more frantic. You can’t help wondering how you must feel to him — soft, he’d said. And warm, so warm. Clinging to his cock, to his arms, to the roots of his hair. 

“I’m close,” he warns, nipping the delicate skin of your lower lip, dipping his tongue into the seam of your mouth, “gonna fill you up. Make you mine. Make you come back”. 

“Shouta,” dazedly gasping in alarm, voice catching in the back of your throat. He purrs as you coil around him, though it is far more unrestrained, erring on a growl. Pushing his weight onto your stomach, his pelvis pressed up against your clit, it only takes a few more strokes before you’re arching into him, mouth shaping around a silent 'o'.

The intensity is dizzying. It washes over you again and again, drawn out the longer he continues to fuck you, white-hot static abuzz beneath your skin. “Just look at you,” he’s telling you, a praising inflection in his otherwise strained voice, “so beautiful. That’s it”. 

You’re lightheaded, inhaling shallow breaths as you feel him throbbing inside of you. For a moment you think he might’ve gotten bigger, a split second of burning stretch, and then his body is pulled taut above you. With a drawn out groan, the tension seeps from him little by little as he cums inside of you, like your body was the tub of hot water he’d submerged himself in. 

Struggling to keep himself braced on his arms as he regains sense, his release leaks out from around his cock as it softens further to return to the confines of his slit. Your pussy clenches around the emptiness in its absence, each throb pushing more cum out onto the cave floor. Shouta blinks away the haze, one set of lids followed by the other, and ducks to press the curve of his throat against yours. 

Ah. An act of affection, you remember. Though you’re without gills, you still tilt your neck with the little energy you have left and attempt to reciprocate. Judging by the quiet, fond huff of laughter, he appreciates it.

In your periphery you notice that the sun has started to straddle the horizon, and begin to squirm in panic. 

“I–I have to get back soon or they’ll come looking,” you tell him, eyes frantically searching the cave for your board and finding that Shouta had tucked it into an alcove by the entrance. The Mer grumbles in tired complaint and seamlessly slips himself back into the water, keeping only his eyes above the surface as his hair fans out around him. 

If a Merman could pout, you think it’d look a lot like this. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want them to hurt you,” he glares slightly and you rectify your words, “I don’t want you to hurt them in defence”. That seems to placate him somewhat, and you watch as he turns to retrieve the board. 

Rolling your shirt back down, you stumble as you stand to pull your damp shorts back up your legs, grimacing in discomfort at the cum still spilling out of you and pearling on your thighs. Hopefully you could rinse yourself off before you got to shore. No doubt Hitoshi would be waiting there for you, anxiously pacing the entire length of the beach. 

The impact of wood thudding against rock interrupts your line of thought. Shouta waits by the ledge with your board already pointed towards the entrance, gesturing for you to get on it. The colour in his scales have begun to fade again, the same colour as the one hung around your neck. “Sit. I’ll take you as close as I can without being seen,” he says. 

“I’ll come back,” you quietly promise him. Against better judgement, you will.

As he guides you out into the open ocean, eyes squinting then at the beaming evening sun, you look at your mood ring and smile. 

It’s a vivid green. 

#bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #mha x reader

[miss-hyoko]

I read your fic about the arranged marriage with Floyd and I loved it sm!! I noticed in it that he changed his mind about reader after seeing how small and wary they were of floyd. I was wondering if i could request what would happen if the reader had an intimidating look to them when they first met. Like if they were a mershark. Would he still be the same?

Thank you!!

"Thanks for your patience, dear customer. Your order of [The Eel's Scary Fiancé(e)] gado-gado is now served. I hope you find it delicious."

The Eel's Scary Fiancé(e)

Character(s): Floyd

Summary: Floyd's fiancé(e) is an intimidating person

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, arranged marriage, Floyd being Floyd, Floyd Leech is his own warning, slightly Yandere!Floyd if you squint hard enough

Note: Another version of this. It took me quite a long time to write because of Floyd's complexity. But, all in all, I'm glad I could write Floyd again. Thank you for the request, anon 🫶

If you appear intimidating and/or have a larger body size compared to other merfolks, then Floyd might be interested in you the first time you meet each other. Instead of feeling scared or threatened by your fierce countenance, he finds your extremely serious expression irresistible, prompting him to continuously tease you to provoke a reaction. If you do respond to his teasing, Floyd will grin widely and continue teasing you. But if you don't, then brace yourself because Floyd won't stop bothering you until you react.

From that point on, you've been frequently seen together with Floyd. He's always the one who comes looking for you, whether because he's bored and wants you to accompany him or merely to amuse himself by teasing you at random times.

When you're not around, Floyd embodies the persona of a fearless and notorious eel, striking fear in the hearts of many nightmares for countless individuals. Yet, when he's by your side, he transforms into nothing but a harmless big eel, seemingly forgetting about his position as one of the ocean's apex predators.

Although it happens rarely, it's not uncommon for Floyd to find himself entangled in intense fights against someone. However, the moment he catches a glimpse of you appearing around the corner, he abruptly ceases the fight and rushes towards you to lament about being relentlessly bullied, all the while revealing the injuries he has sustained. Those he fights with attempt to defend themselves, but facing your intimidating look, which is simply your expression of confusion, they immediately fall silent and retreat without uttering a word. As you stand there, bewildered about what just happened, watching their retreating figures, Floyd bursts into fits of uncontrollable laughter with one arm around your shoulder.

People frequently describe you as scary, and you also agree with their sentiment. However, Floyd agrees to disagree. He firmly believes that your intimidating presence is what makes you shine above others and precisely the one that makes you stand out among the crowd. Should someone has the nerve to speak negatively about your appearance, don't be taken aback if he disappears the following day and is nowhere to be found.

Given that you're not some delicate and weak creature, Floyd never holds back when it comes to squeezing you with all his strength. He's delighted that he doesn't have to restrain himself in expressing his feelings to you through his powerful, bone-crushing hugs. When he's happy, Floyd will let out a hearty laugh while squeezing you tight. And when he's in a bad mood, Floyd will come to you with a face contorted into a pout and hold you firmly without saying anything until his mood gets better. In short, every time he senses your presence, Floyd won't hesitate to abandon whatever he's doing at that moment to give you a nice squeeze.

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly), many people said that you and Floyd are a perfect fit for each other. Thanks to the intimidating aura you both possess, you swiftly became known as the 'mafia fish' couple. Every time you come across this peculiar nickname, your forehead creases in confusion, while Floyd finds great amusement seeing your puzzled look. Unbeknownst to you, it was him and Jade who came up with that nickname and spread it around so people would know that the two of you are together.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #gado-gado #🍽️_ordered #👀_anonymous