Mermaid x Were-Shark, Fantasy Romance/Eventual Erotica, with Gothic Horror Elements, Inspired by The Little Mermaid Tale
𓂃𓂁𓂃 main index - includes chapter navigation and story info
𓂃𓂁𓂃 divider by @pxrce-lain
I thought that I was hungry for love
Maybe I was just hungry for blood
Sea foam woman on the shore
Your prairie ghost, I'm a cottage whore
All the mermaids have sharp teeth
Razor blades all in your feet
England is only ever grey or green
The girls glitter striding glorious and coatless in the rain
I remember falling through these streets
Somewhat out of place, if not for the drunkenness
It makes my chest hurt to think of it
Not of regret, but of missing that
Cheerful oblivion
Cheerful oblivion
It was not all pain and pavements slick with rain
And shining under lights from shitty clubs and doing shitty drugs
And hugging girls that smelt like Britney Spears and coconuts
And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp
You crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart
You only get one night upon the shore
So dance like you've never danced before
And the dance floor is filling up with blood
But, oh, Lord, you've never been so in love
And the mermaids, they come once a year
They climb the struts of Brighton Pier
They come to drink, they come to dance
To sacrifice a human heart
And the world is so much wilder than you think
You haven't seen nothing till you seen an English girl drink
It’s easy to get lost in the beauty of the ocean shore, even for a mermaid. But it’s not the serenity of an easy moonlit night that entices me, as most would think. It’s the wild and riproarious waves crashing down onto the rocky shore—the raging heart of the ocean, beating with fierce rhythm.
I rise out of the water, sea foam runs off my back. The rocks shift under my feet, crinkling like forest leaves. My gills fade, my teeth lose their edge, my nails round out.
But I smell rot off in the distance. My eyes dart to the human pier not far off. A single fish left on a gutting stand, hook still in its mouth.
I want it. But can’t stomach such an easy catch in human form. I turn away, grunting in frustration.
Besides, my real prey is just up the hill.
Mist clouds form around me, impeding my vision. The air is thick, and the wind is biting and cold. But it is a good feeling—the pleasure of pain. The pleasure of being alive and knowing that I am real.
I listen for noise—voices, music. And soon, a faint sound calls to me. I creep behind a boulder, then climb on top of it. The mist clears for a moment, and I see the shack at the very top of the hill in the distance. A song pours out of its windows. What must have been a fire looks like candlelight from so far away. He is home.
Crawling down from the boulder, I am careful to not make much of a disturbance. I tiptoe through the smooth rocks and then begin my trek up the hill. Gray-green grasses greet me. I run my fingers along their tall, slender stalks.
His scent fills the air. Smoke, oysters, rotting wood. I duck into the grasses as his shack comes into view.
And then there he is. Swinging the door open. Mud caked on his beard. He wears bright yellow boots. His jovial laugh echoes through me, tingling my spine.
I wonder for a moment what his name might be. What secrets are behind his snow blue eyes.
What would happen if ever our eyes met.
He grabs a box then carries it back inside but forgets to close the door. I squint, peering in. Various trinkets and trophies line the walls. Seashells, bones, tools.
I want to enter his life. To walk in through the door, nothing but the seaweed on my back, and tell him to take me, I am his. The shore in all its wild glory would be our home. I would tell him where all the shoals of fish are. And he would sell the leftovers from the catch in the nearby town.
I lay down in the grass, cool mud seeping in through my veins. The sound of waves crashing into the nearby rocky cliffs. His whistling. Winds whipping and mists swirling. These sounds lull me into a peaceful slumber.
MaggotsBoy asked for "Schund-his goblin shark oc"! Here you go! I'm doing $6 character doodles! Buy me 2 coffees on http://ko-fi.com/comickpro and tell me who you want me to draw! I will post results on Twitter and Instagram.
Mermaid x Were-Shark, Fantasy Romance/Eventual Erotica, with Gothic Horror Elements, Inspired by The Little Mermaid Tale
𓂃𓂁𓂃 main index - includes chapter navigation and story info
𓂃𓂁𓂃 divider by @pxrce-lain
I dive beneath the waves, heading back toward home. My tail thrusts against the water, I surge onward.
Father will be upset that I was gone for so long, but truthfully as long as I avoid my fiancé, I could care less what Father thinks.
I curl around the sea-grass, praying to the gods of the sea that Aurelius is nowhere near. After checking the coast is clear, I move on.
My kingdom I am meant to rule in a few short months comes into view—Sirenia. The shining tops of the spires glow from the moonlight coming from above the waves. It is possibly the most beautiful thing most merpeople will ever see. Tourists line the gates. I even see a proposal take place in the courtyard.
I can’t help but shudder as the tourist merman gives his maid a pearl. She cries out to him, hugging his neck. If only I could have such luck… a love match…
Sighing, I wonder what human proposals must be like. I had heard from a seagull once that they exchange diamonds instead of pearls. How delightfully peculiar.
Would the man who lives in the shack by the sea give me a diamond?
“Nelia!”
I swish back, my claws out. But I soon lower my guard. Grinding my fangs together, I respond, “Hello, Aurelius.”
My fiancé makes his way to me from one of the topmost spires of the castle. He is perfectly acceptable, more than perfectly acceptable really. He is exceptional for a mate. His torso is long, his core is strong, he has the right amount of blubber to withstand the cold of the waters, his tail is elaborately decorated in algae, sea-grass, and pearls. His face is unmarred, perfectly smooth, a light shade of blue-green.
“Where were you? You missed our royal date… again.”
“My apologies, Aurelius. I—“
He ushers me inside. I catch one final glimpse of the tourists below before I am greeted with the overbearing white of the inside of the castle. It is Aurelius’ guest bedroom.
“You know, we really aren’t supposed to be alone together,” I urge, making my way for the door.
“Yes, I know,” he says, his kind face twisting up as he grabs my hand. “But I was worried, darling. Where have you been?”
“I—“
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell me. All that matters is that you’re safe.” He runs his webbed fingers through my hair.
I force a smile.
“You really are a gem, Nelia,” he says, his tenor voice low and soft. “Even if you do swim off without telling anyone where you’re going.” He laughs, his perfect white fangs glinting.
His face is so pale in the blinding light of the room, and his maroon eyes are deeply focused on me. His grip tightens around my wrist.
“Thank you, I really must be going though.” I wriggle out of his grip. “My Father I’m sure has worked himself up into a seasickness over me.” I swoosh over as fast as I can to the door and bolt outside before he can say another word.
I press my back up against the wall, letting out a sigh, as another concerned voice calls out my name.
“Princess Cornelia!” one of the royal guards shouts.
“Ugh…” I close my eyes. I hate when they use my full name.
She swims over to me, and bows, her armored tail clanking as it swishes to the side. “Your Highness. Are you alright, are you hurt?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say. “I just got lost on the way home.”
“Hmm…” The guard’s worried expression turns into one of suspicion as she raises her brows. “It seems you only get lost on your way home when one of your royal dates is scheduled. The king will not be pleased.”
I get up from the wall. “Let’s just get it over with then.”
She escorts me across the castle, down from the living quarters to the throne room. Servants stare at me curtsying and bowing as I pass by. Once I am out of earshot, I am certain they whisper about me. Suspecting where I might have been, that I am perhaps off with another merman.
Before we enter the throne room, the guard whispers to the footman. I am promptly announced.
“Bring her in,” declares my father, King Tiberius.
I wave my way into the throne room, perhaps the most majestic part of the castle. The ceilings are tall and arched, almost endless. Every corner of the throne room is frighteningly white, brightening it up—in contrast to the lonesome, eternal darkness of the night-time ocean. Merfolk play harps off to the side. My father and mother sit in the center part of the room, on their thrones of white marble. I curtsy before them.
My father’s expression is hardly readable. He just stares at me with a straight face, but I can see in his silver eyes, a quiet rage. He is quivering with it. My mother turns toward my father and puts a hand over his.
“Lost again, daughter?”
“Yes.”
“The third time you have gotten lost. Do you need an escort with you?”
“No, Father.”
“Francesca, dearest,” he turns to Mother, “don’t you agree she needs an escort with her at all times if she has such a propensity for getting lost?”
“It might be wise, dear,” Mother agrees. Her hair is done up in elaborate braids that encircle her sweet, heart-shaped face. She is significantly smaller than my father, who is huge and muscular with plenty of blubber surrounding his gut. No one would dare challenge him. But my mother's pretty smile and calm demeanor could lie just as quickly and get just as much done as any of my father's declarations.
“Then there it is!” His silver eyes glow gold momentarily. “You shall have an escort with you at all times from now on. One of your Ladies-in-Waiting perhaps. They will make sure you attend all of your appointments on time, especially your royal dates with Prince Aurelius.”
I scoff under my breath, rolling my eyes.
“Do you object?” He leans forward, tightening his grip on his trident.
I cross my arms, looking to the other side of the room at the harp players, whose tunes after all these years began to sound stiff and dull. The merman who pens all of father’s declarations loudly crosses something out on his long scroll of sandpaper.
At last, I bow my head. “No, I don’t object, Father.”
“Good, now off to bed with you. You have an appointment with the Royal Hairdresser in the morning.”
I clench my fangs together as I slowly turn off in the other direction, swimming toward the large doors. They close behind me.
"Now, where were we?" I hear my father say from behind the doors. "Ah, yes, the shark trouble we've been having lately."
I pause, and turn around, pressing my ear to the door. Shark trouble?
"Come on, Princess Cornelia," the royal guard urges me onward. She flashes me a look through the holes in her helmet and I know that that is not a request.
I let go of the door and follow closely behind the royal guard to the room, like a prisoner being led back to their cell.
"Bloodthirsty as ever," are the final words I hear from him before the sounds fade away into the night.
Odette, the Royal Hairdresser, tugs at my hair. I wince as she twists my head to the side.
“—and then we shall go get your costume for the masquerade ball fitted, right before your rescheduled royal date!” my new escort, one of my Ladies-in-Waiting, Maurie, exclaims as she reads off my day’s activities.
I muster up a smile and nod at Maurie before Odette pins my hair into place with a sharp needle. “And what does her Royal Highness think?”
I look in the mirror. I prefer my hair down, flowing freely in either the water or the wind—but it is slicked back into a bun, with a white flower placed in the center.
“It is a bit tight,” I say. “It’s very lovely, Odette, just a little uncomfortable. Can I wear my hair down instead?”
“But my Lady, this is the latest fashion!” Maurie looks at me as if I’m speaking the unfathomable.
“Yes, of course. What was I thinking?” I laugh. “It’s perfect.”
“Wonderful!” Odette claps her hands. “I will do it just like this on your wedding day then. Perhaps a few more flowers, and your tiara, too, of course!”
“Great,” I say. I catch another look at myself in the mirror. My golden eyes seem to have lost some of their shimmer. My dark blue skin seems a little pale. I look tired, gaunt even. But maybe it’s just the lighting in the salon.
Maurie and I head to my next appointment. She is chattering on about something, I think about how excited she is to be escorting me everywhere, how she is so glad Father entrusted me solely in her care.
But I can only think of the man in the shack, with his odd little trinkets hanging up on the wall, and his jolly booming voice. Father has no idea I’ve ever been to the shore before, that maybe one day I’ll disappear and never come back. I’ll just stay a human forever. Perhaps it would be best to disappear after the wedding. Give the kingdom an heir or two, the only thing they need from me, and then I’m gone. It would give me more time to plan my escape, too.
“My Lady, you’re sulking again. Is everything alright?” Maurie grabs ahold of my hand.
I smile. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m just tired is all.”
“Shall we take a break then before your next appointment?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Father is already ill enough as is. He would not want me to be late anywhere else.”
“Of course, My Lady.”
Maurie and I swim on through the streets of the local city. A shoal of fish pass by us and pay respects to me. I wave and smile at them.
“As I was saying, your other Ladies-in-Waiting come and go, but I live for this. I will never leave your side!” she says, her eyes wide with enthusiasm.
I nod.
“You know, they are all going out tonight to the shore. Can you believe that?!”
“No, I can’t, Maurie—“ I stop. “The shore?”
“Yes! Isn’t it preposterous?! They’re all going to some dance.”
“Dance?” I grab her shoulders. “Will humans be there?”
“Yes! Isn’t it just awful?”
I turn around, taking in the underwater city in all its greatness. Even with its shining towers and buildings, nothing could compare to the shore. “Yes, awful,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”
Maurie swishes me back around to face her. “What?!” Her blushy cheeks turn almost completely green.
“Yeah, we can go and be back before Father ever finds us!”
She pulls me to the side in an alleyway. “Are you crazy?” she whisper-yells. “My Lady, it is much too dangerous! It is not quite yet time for your first Royal Hunt, and no one would be there to ensure your safety!"
"No, no, no, not to hunt. Just to… have— Fun."
Fun. My fangs creep out. I am teeming with excitement at the thought.
"NO. No, no, I will not allow it. I could lose my position if I let you miss another royal date, much less go to the shore!"
My brows wrinkle together. I can’t afford to lose my most dedicated Lady-in-Waiting, even if she is overly attentive.
A dramatization of my thought process regarding a show I gained interest in.
My normal brain: Hmmm...what's this? "The Haunting Hour"? Looks interesting, I might give it a watch–just let me look at the episode summaries first...
(later)
My normal brain: Oh, I loved Goosebumps as a kid! So many of these episodes remind me of the books!
My hormone-addled brain: Who plays the protagonist in the Pool Shark episode?
My normal brain: I dunno, let's look it up.
My hormone-addled brain: IT'S THE HOT GUY FROM DESCENDANTS.
My normal brain: Oh, Booboo Stewart! That's pretty cool.
My hormone-addled brain: THE EPISODE TAKES PLACE AROUND A POOL.
My normal brain: ...yeah, so?
My hormone-addled brain: HE'S PROBABLY SHIRTLESS FOR MOST OF IT.
My normal brain: Eh. Wonder what the rest of the episodes are-
My hormone-addled brain: NO. PAY MORE ATTENTION TO THE SHIRTLESS BOOBOO STEWART EPISODE.
My normal brain: Look, the summary says his character is afraid of water, he probably won't be-
My hormone-addled brain: READ THE SPOILERS.
My normal brain: ...he's a were-shark?
My hormone-addled brain: BOOBOO STEWART PLAYED A WEREWOLF IN TWILIGHT. WEREWOLVES TEND TO GO SHIRTLESS. HE'S A WERE-SHARK IN THIS EPISODE, THEREFORE, HE WILL GO SHIRTLESS.
My normal brain: That makes no sense.
My hormone-addled brain: NEITHER DO MOST OF THE ENDINGS TO R.L. STINE'S BOOKS, BUT YOU STILL LOVE EM.
My normal brain: Urrrrgh, fine. If i decide to watch the show, I'll watch the Pool Shark episode first.
