Mer!dabi X Fem!reader - Blog Posts

splintered machinations - pts one & two

Mer!Dabi x fem!Princess!Reader (SFW)

Hi guys! I've never done anything for MerMay before--I've never written any mer!characters/content before--but @meliapis graduated, I wanted to write something for her, and she mentioned mer!dabi...so, I just had to write a (not so) little something. This is still ongoing and will be updated periodically throughout May, but this is just a fun little idea I got from her and I wanted to share it as a graduation gift! Go check out her MerMay requests, too! <3

Synopsis: Boarding a ship per your father's orders, you begin the voyage across the deep blue sea toward Haliware Island. Despite the easy sailing the first few days, it seems the last isn't going to be the smoothest sailing.

Warnings: descriptions of spooky sea creatures in the deep ocean, descriptions of drowning, a hint of sailor!hawks, story will also contain: lots of future nsfw content, sexual tension, mer!dabi being a teasing & dirty talking kinda rogue, courting, idk what to call it but it kinda has regency era vibes but in a fantasy setting and not as stuffy, political stuff/politics between nations, a bit of reader x OC (but it's for the plot, I promise), and more (tbd as I write)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is my first time writing mer!stuff. I hope y'all like it! This is for you, @meliapis!!

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No wind. No birds. Just sun. Beautiful, warm, wonderful sun. A soft creaking came as the boat beneath you gently bobbed; the nails holding it together stayed firm amongst the calm waters. One more day.

You’d be at the castle in one day. 

Your dress fluttered in an unmistakable breeze as the crew maneuvered around you. Ropes were pulled, sails were checked, a wheel was steered. Crates were secured firm to the deck, a thick cannon had its wheels stopped so it pointed out at sea regardless of the waves' strength, and songs were sung around bottles of liquor.

“Your Highness,” a smooth voice said, a head almost blocking the sun. “Care to join us?”

The blond, with cheeks that always seemed to burn and gain freckles than ever tan, peered down at you with a cheery smile. He wiggled a mug of beer that sloshed at the brim, his playfully slurred words fell across the empty span of where you sat. Two protective guards stood behind you. As if you were some treasure meant to be protected, not cargo. 

“I’d prefer to have my wits about me when at the mercy of the ocean,” you cooed, pushing up to your forearms. “You should know that, Keigo.”

“Mhm.” He raised his glass and glanced back at the group chugging down theirs below him. “But, surely, you ought to have a little fun before we arrive.”

Behind you, the guards shifted. A warning to him. His sharp golden eyes quickly stared back at them. A shhhh came as a sword was pulled partially out of a sheath, but Keigo remained. His sharp canines showed in his smile.

“Hence why I decided to look for shapes in a cloudless sky.”

You motioned up, but your point went unproven. A few puffy white clouds crept onto the scene. One looked like a barrel from a shootout, the cloud breaking the wood as bullets shot through the sky; another resembled your castle back home. Tall peaks, overlapping points with red and white flags attached, a door that often stayed closed until ceremonies. 

Keigo’s eyes narrowed at the sky.

“Well, Your Highness,” he said with a teasing bow. His slender frame curved, his oversized white shirt dropped down to expose his chest, and the tight fit of his brown pants stretched. “Enjoy the show, then.”

You threw up a sarcastic wave before sinking back down. The flash of skin was nothing new on the ship—the crew walked around only caring if their skin burned beyond repair. And as a few more clouds joined the castle in the sky, even more shirts were opened while beer was spilled, humidity rose, and laughter shot across the open air.

Keigo raised his glass when your eyes danced from the sky to the group. Some sat on barrels, others on the edge of the ship, more on the floor. The clinking glasses sounded like the chains around your wrists. The chortle was met with gruffs behind you. Under the breath comments idiots and pigs. Their royal breastplates had refused to be removed unless it was underneath the hottest suns. 

Breakfast could’ve been cooked on them—sprays of water sizzling as they were propped up on the side of the boat. 

“I rather think you two are,” you murmured, glancing back at the two soldiers. “They’re drinking while you think I’m somehow going to jump ship in the middle of the ocean.” They stared daggers at you like always. “What? Where am I going to go?”

You shoved up despite the eyes from the crew turning your way. A playful hint joined your tone as you spun, shade casting itself across the desk. The soldiers, sunburnt and peeling, glowered and tightened their grips on their swords. Just like the concept of you jumping ship, there wasn’t a chance they’d raise a blade to you. You were precious cargo. No harm could come to you before you got to the castle. They simply just had to make sure you got to the castle. 

“We’re still a day out; there’s nothing here.” 

You ignored the grumbled version of your name and their stiff movement toward you as you trotted to the edge. Carefully yet swiftly, you hopped up on the thick edge and threw your arms out, the blue ocean sloshing against the boat just behind you. A gust of wind caught your thin dress, throwing the thin skirt up. Despite the decorum—or lack thereof—on the ship, all eyes were glued to the glimpse of your legs. 

“Get down,” one of the soldiers—Hyatt—said. His hand tightened on his blade. “Now, princess.”

You bowed slightly with a smile that made a few of the crew holler and laugh. More glasses clinked together, and more chattering crawled across the dark deck. The loud thump of your feet hitting the thick wood made Hyatt and Thorne–the other soldier–both relax slightly. But, still, their hands remained on their blades. 

“Have you always been so defiant?” Thorne grumbled to himself as he shifted, peering out over the ocean. 

“Yes,” Hyatt muttered softly. 

“No,” you corrected, walking over and looking over the bow. A soft sigh snuck out at the sight. The vast ocean was a rich, dark, deep blue. Bluer than you’d seen during the past three days. “But waking up and being told I’m going on an involuntary trip tends to make the demure vanish.” A soft sigh snuck out as you closed your eyes and took in the salty air. “The sea is beautiful, though.”

Wait.

Something caught in your chest as you cracked your eyes open. The low rumble crawled up the back of your neck. It seemed to make the boat shake, yet the water remained undisturbed. The dark water turned into an unknown shadow beneath you—what creatures swam below made your hair stand on the back of your neck—but you were safe on board. 

Another low rumble.

The clinking of glasses got a little louder and laughter grew heavier.

“Hey, Princess, get away from the edge,” Hyatt said behind you, but your eyes remained down on the ocean.

You couldn’t normally see the bottom the far out, but this felt different. Maybe there was no bottom. Maybe the rich dark blue found itself attached to a creature ten times the size of the ship. In moments, it would open its eyes and blink up at you, encompassing the whole expanse of the color. One flip of its tail would split the boat into two. Or maybe thousands of splintered pieces. 

Your heart thumped faster.

“Princess,” Thorne tried.

The ocean remained undisturbed as something wet splattered against your skin. No. Not undisturbed. By living creatures, yes. There weren’t any eyes blinking back at you or massive jaws unhinging to swallow the ship whole. No dangerous tentacles to rip you to shreds or even carnivorous fish aiming to nip at your legs. 

But there were waves. White-capped waves.

You made the mistake of shooting your eyes upward. Dark clouds had gathered into a dangerous conglomeration. Where they’d come from remained unknown, and that bright sky felt permanently out of sight. The sudden movement of your head, accompanied with a strong wave below, knocked you backward. Even Thorne and Hyatt lost their sea legs, staggering away from the boat’s side and trying to regain their stances. Hyatt, still, called for you, his hand finally leaving his sword.

Air was thrown from you as your back collided with the floor. There was that low rumble again—it crawled across the sky like a serpent waiting to strike. Lightning flashed bright in the sudden darkness. Gone was the sun, and pouring, pelting, painful rain swallowed everything. The sound became too loud to bear while blinking up at the sky, and as Hyatt and Thorne loudly cursed, it went unheard.

It all went unheard, even when they stepped toward you and yelled at you. 

But you couldn’t move. The way the boat jerked, the thought of it falling apart at its seams came far too easily, and those creatures that could be lurking below would devour you the second you were overboard. Their sharp teeth would sink easily through your skin and tear you apart without hesitation.

“Princess,” a familiar voice whispered. It drew you from your sudden choke-hold in your throats while a hand went to your wrist and hoisted you up. “We need to get you inside.”

Keigo’s gold eyes blinked down at you, his smile unwavering even as yours twisted in fear. You nodded. 

“Move carefully and quickly,” he said loud enough for you to hear, both hands going to your waist. In otherwise less life-endangering scenarios, Keigo would’ve been reprimanded for even considering touching you, let alone on your waist. A sailor putting his hands on the Princess? Blasphemous. Yet you leaned into him as he balanced you and guided you down the stairs. All you had to do was get inside the Captain’s quarters, then you’d be safe. You both knew that. “Keep going, Princess. We’re almost there.” 

But almost there wasn’t a simple turn around a corner and through a sturdy door. Multiple steps descended onto the deck as water gathered upon everything. It slickened the boards that normally kept you steady; it weighed your dress down and made it cling to your legs; it pushed a ringing in your ears that sounded so high-pitched, it hurt. 

Your eyes went overboard as the ringing got worse. It was unwise to never heed a sailor’s warning. Just as it was unwise to never heed any warning from anyone so well-trained, experienced, and skilled in their field. You wouldn’t tell a world-renowned chef how to cook. You wouldn’t ignore a soldier’s careful heed before going out on the battlefield. You certainly wouldn’t ignore the stories told around the crew that the ocean was as beautiful as it was untrusting. It could be a person’s life and so obviously their death. Whether the fins and tentacles they saw after days of travel were real, it was always smarter to not take the chance.

So when Keigo braced you against his chest as the ship jolted, you leaned into him more. When he muttered to hold still for the next few seconds, you did. And when he told you to go, you trusted him. His gut. 

But he was still only a man. One without the blessing of foresight. 

The wave hit the boat harder than the others while a gust of wind knocked you back as if you were nothing more than a piece of paper. A slippery board caused your demise as Keigo’s grip struggled on your wet skin. They skated over you, his short nails barely scraping, until he threw his other hand out for you. Desperation clawed at him the way it did you, but his fingers only got a grasp on your dress. And that silky material was hell in his grip–slippery and betraying without a moment’s thought. 

There was fear and panic in those golden eyes as the thick banister meant to keep you safe dug into your back. The unkempt splinters snagged on your clothing as the world went upside down, and there was no ground beneath your feet. 

Was the rain coming from the ocean or the sky? Which dark sea was which? 

It felt like falling onto the floor when Keigo became a small speck on the boat. The air was knocked from your lungs so ineloquently, and you barely managed a gasp before you knew what was coming next. 

Darkness.

Soaking wet, impenetrable darkness. 

A sharp pain caught your back, then your arms, down into your legs. Cold. It was cold. Perhaps shock? Swim. You felt yourself sink deeper as you blinked through the salty water. The ache got worse, your body threatened to stop, and farther away the boat got. Swim, (Y/N). The surface distorted the image as you tried to see if anyone would save you, but alas—you couldn’t even get yourself back up to the surface. 

A burst of bubbles caught your attention to the right, heart rate spiking. You blinked into the abyss looking for those massive eyes, the tentacles, the carnivorous predators. Something touched your foot beneath you, and you screamed, the sound lost a mere inch in front of you.

Another splash of bubbles got you as you threw your arms up, kicking your feet and praying what’d touched you had been your imagination. Please. A silent plea that burned your lungs. I don’t want to die. Although, it’d be fitting, wouldn’t it? You clawed at the water until your nails would’ve bled. You kicked until the current simply laughed in your face. A harsh swirl that tore you further down like an anchor chained to your ankle. 

Please. If your eyes weren’t burning from the salt water, you were sure you were crying. I don’t want to die. I don’t. 

A gulp of water entered your mouth when you begged for oxygen. The fear skyrocketed as a barrel fell into the sea, sinking just low enough to get caught in the edge of the current. It smacked against your arms as you tried to reach for it, but as it bounced back up, you were shoved down. Another breath of water sent death knocking on your door.

Colder. The water got colder.

Your body stopped moving as you replayed the only pivotal moment that mattered, your father’s words pressing for you to get on the boat without a fight. Do what must be done, or you are not truly my daughter. A shove from Hyatt as you boarded the ship while the crew stared, never once having royalty aboard their boat. But your father had needed the royal sailors for his voyage. It’s a three-day trip; see her there safe.

You felt a sickening smile as the world went blurry. Safe. If he only knew.

- ch two -

There was once, when you were younger, you got to see snow. A family “vacation” to visit some Duke. A business meeting your parents often tried to pretend wasn’t that. You’ll get to meet his children. They’ll show you around the estate. But the prospect of something other than the dead winter so known in your kingdom was what drove you to be one of the firsts inside the carriage that morning. 

But it’d been a long trip into the mountains; your father switched between talking with your mother about the necessary duties upon arrival and departure and discussing with the soldiers to maintain protocol. And, desperately, even as you tried to maintain some composure, the long, exhausting, impatient ride could only keep a child still for so long. The second the doors opened and you saw the snow, you were off. 

The snowy scape had been otherworldly. You’d known nothing that beautiful before and all you knew was that you had to touch it. See it. Taste it. Follow it to what other beauties it could produce.

They yelled your name, but there’d been a little white rabbit hopping through the forest outside of the mansion. It called to you as the snow did, beckoning you further as cold seeped through your fur-lined shawl. With only about ten years of knowledge then, you hadn’t known why, as you tripped and fell into the icy tundra, tumbling down a hill and out of sight, how dangerous the chill was. Only that when it turned warm and your eyes got heavy, something was wrong. 

The soldiers—a young, sixteen-year-old Hyatt with his superior—found you hours later. It’d felt like an eternity, a hurt arm that was the first to go numb in the snow and a spiraling warmth shooting over your skin. But when you felt like you were close to falling asleep beneath a warm blanket, they appeared at the top of the snowy cliff you’d fallen down. 

Hyatt carried you back to the mansion, wrapped in his coat, while his superior ran ahead. A fire was started in one of the living spaces where your mother and father stood. You barely heard the scolding from your father as you sat in front of the burning flames and given a cup of warm milk. Stay by the soldiers’ sides from now on. Do you understand me? You merely nodded so softly and politely, the tone pressing its way inside your head as you kept your eyes down. 

Demure. It felt stuffy. But still, you nodded.

That cold. That was different than the one violently permeating your bones. Were you shivering? Your vision going dark made bubbles around you move. Your arms wouldn’t reach, your legs wouldn’t kick. And that rumbling, vibrating every part of you, was it above or below? Was an eye about to open, or maybe some jaws aiming to end it quickly? The pressure pushed hard against your head, and that was all you could take as seawater went down your throat again.

The surface disappeared behind closed eyes. What would get you first–the Reaper or a hidden predator on the brink of starvation? 

Perhaps both.

Warmth.

Were you dead? Where there was warmth, as your father so woefully explained, there was death. In the cold, at least. Perhaps the Reaper had found you and tore you down to his level, your soul rising—rising? You tried to open your eyes, but all you were met with was pale contrasting the darkness. 

Had you been able to move, you would’ve done something other than peer up. There were arms wrapped around you, shoulders in front of you, the curve of a neck, hair that blended in with the sea, but those eyes. You blinked yours hard at the rushing movement. It made the pressure in your head dissipate far too quickly, and bile rose in your throat. But those eyes, outlined by sharp features, a mouth pressed into a fine line, spiky dark hair pushed back from the momentum; they were so bright they nearly glowed. Never had turquoise look so beautiful.

And when he dared to glance down, taking what felt like a dreamy moment before death and making you remember that your heart could still beat, he smiled. One of secrets. Of knowing. Of saving as you suddenly broke through the surface and the rain pelted your sore skin.

Your pulse ticked higher while those eyes stayed on you; the sudden gasp for oxygen became you barreling over, vomiting into the sea. Puke and mouth-drying seawater mixed into the darkness as your guts heaved, lungs burned, and throat tore with every hack. What the hell was going on? Who– Again, the world spun as the stranger moved, and your eyes widened as you tried not to vomit once more. 

He wasn’t from the crew, even delirious, you knew. Two days with them, you knew most of them. Not all by name, but you knew them. Their faces, their demeanor, their connection to your home. And this stranger…he moved you closer to the boat at a speed unfathomable to you, even on your best days in the water. 

You tried to speak, but as your vision grew blurry and your eyelids heavy, the pain in your throat became a blockage. 

Who are you?

“Don’t,” his cool voice murmured. It would’ve shocked you had there been any feeling left in your body. He spoke. “Save it for your real rescue party.”

For some reason, you did as he said. He held you closer, arms swallowed in areas of dark ink you couldn’t make out. Glinting jewelry that managed to shine through the storm clouds. Over his fingers which pressed firmly into you, on his nose in a little trio to create a triangle, and over his ears. And his entire upper body—bare. 

Had your guts not been twisting into a fine tornado and you stopped tasting the salty mix of your lunch on your tongue, you would’ve been scandalized. But as you were draped over that devilish barrel, the wood managing to bob in the water, you felt nothing but grateful as his hands slid down over your back, waist, hips. 

“Scream,” he whispered beneath the rain, and all you could do was glance back. Those otherworldly eyes were all that poked out of the water for a moment as he slinked back. He kept them locked on you, burning with an intensity you could barely understand. He popped up just enough to speak again. “I won’t save you again.”

His grin revealed sharp canines before he disappeared beneath the water. A beat, two, three of piercing rain dropped down around you. Then it surfaced. A sparkling tail of black scales, a mix of blues were dulled without sunlight, and a silver ring on one side of the arcing flipper. 

The silence roared in your ears as you stared at where he’d disappeared. Tail. But as you tried to call a thought, tried to piece together a puzzle so desperately right in front of you, you hacked up another breath of water. 

Tail.

A scream followed it as black started to dot your vision. The cold water froze your body stiff, and you clawed to stay on the barrel through another wave. It was broken and choppy, no way audible through the storm, but the boat was right there. You could almost touch it.

You screamed again.

Louder. 

Until you tasted something metallic in your mouth.

Hyatt, Thorne, Keigo. One of them had to be looking for you.

A splash in the water gathered your attention as you started to slip off of the barrel. Your nails ached as they pressed into the fine wood. Stay afloat. But as your body went limp, that water crept higher toward your mouth. Weakly, you screamed again.

This time, as a wave threw you off the barrel, it was met with two arms and two legs going out for you.

“Gotcha, Princess,” Keigo’s voice whispered in your ear. “You’re safe. I gotcha.”

A thick rope was tied around your waist and wrapped as skillfully as possible around your legs. A seat of sorts was created as Keigo swam you back toward the side of the boat, dragging you with your head never dipping back into the water. Those golden eyes were sharp first at the ship and then softer down at you. 

The world went dark as Keigo tugged on the slack of the rope and yelled upwards. His mouth was pulled away from your ear, yet his volume should’ve carried. How your scream was heard all the way up to them, you weren’t sure. Keigo’s was nearly drowned in the violent pitter-patter of the storm.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me, Princess.” 

His lean arms were strong as they gripped you. The rope went taut, and everything moved. But the world, as you blinked one last time, never returned to the gray-scaled color scheme the storm created. 

“Princess. Stay with me.”

There was sun. A cot. A blanket. A dress that reeked of sea, storm, and something clean. The ceiling looked familiar. The blinds on the window were cast open to shine the sun on your cheeks. Clouds shot across the sky in the opposite direction the whole room seemed to lurch toward. 

A wrap of gause went around your right forearm. 

One blink. Two. Three. Four. Pain throughout your whole body burned as you sat up, a thin blanket falling from your upper body. Dress. It was dry. The thin material bunched up and wrinkled in places that pressed the same patterns into your skin. Storm. You tried for a long breath and were met with the same burning sensation in your throat. Overboard. Sea. Drowning. 

Outside, there was commotion. Some yelling, hollering, excitement. Orders were shouted. The captain, some burly guy whose name was out of reach, yelled to slow. Again, the boat lurched. 

“Oh, finally, Princess.” Hyatt’s voice came through from the corner. Thorne was asleep next to him, both in a change of clothes, their weapons discarded. Worry pressed into Hyatt’s tanned and peeling skin. “Are you okay?”

Turquoise. You stared at Hyatt’s rich green eyes and turned back toward the window. Anchor was dropped as you coughed, hacking up something sweet in the back of your mouth. Your fists tried to rub sleep from your eyes, but it barely helped. Yawning only accentuated the pain in your throat. 

“The medic gave you some medicine to assist you in sleeping. I think the bastard misjudged the amount.” Hyatt nudged Thorne’s foot. “Wake up, idiot.”

You coughed again, eyes stuck on the window. The cold of the water stayed with you in a shiver, the smell clinging to your dress and seeping through your skin. Thorne said something half-asleep and under his breath. Are we there? Your gaze, stuck outside, watching the sky grow into an island. A castle that stretched larger than your father’s. A town filled with buildings of every color of the rainbow. A spread of docks with ships docked within and a harbor waiting for new arrivals to shop and sell.

A tail.

“Yeah,” you croaked, the word tearing at your throat. 

A sense of purpose and dread coursed through you as the boat came to a halt. 

“We’re here.”