Deltarune: The little Mer-Nerds!

Commissioned Deltarune Mermay drawing by @thewitchofart

The weeks bled into a fluid stretch of days, each one softening the sharp edges of Lauritz’s initial horror. Tritus, the merman who had ensnared him in a pearl necklace of perpetual youth and an unwanted destiny, proved less overtly tyrannical than Lauritz had braced himself for. No chains, no direct commands, only the silent, unwavering gaze from the water’s edge or the distant, shimmering surface of the sea. Thus he was less the tyrannical captor and more a watchful, lustful admirer. Lauritz found his gaze, once unsettling, now merely a constant presence. Tritus protected the house, the old brick structure on the mound, from the raging storms and the encroaching sea. He kept the floods at bay, a silent guardian, his power a shimmering shield against the elements. Lauritz watched from his window as waves crashed against an invisible barrier, the sea’s fury halted mere feet from the brick walls. This silent protection, a debt Lauritz could not ignore, began to soften his initial resentment.

The house no longer felt spooky. It felt protected, cherished. He began to understand his great-grandaunt’s fierce attachment, a deep-seated love for this solitary refuge. His new body, too, became a source of fascination. The early-twenties physique hummed with an unfamiliar energy, a constant thrumming desire that made his cock throb with a life of its own. He’d retreat to his room, the velvet pants rustling softly as he moved, and find release in the rhythmic stroke of his hand, the hot, sticky climax a stark contrast to the cool, crisp air of the outer-dike. He swam in the tidal creeks, his newly athletic form cutting through the water with effortless grace, the salty spray invigorating his skin. He ran along the marshy paths, feeling the earth beneath his feet, the wind whipping through his blond hair. At first, Lauritz flinched, a visceral recoil, whenever Tritus appeared, his dark, scaled tail arching from the water. He recoiled from the lingering stares, the way Tritus’s eyes would trace the curve of his throat, the line of his jaw. It felt invasive, a constant violation of his personal space. Yet, Tritus never touched him, never pressed. He simply *looked*.

And then came the clothes… Silks, velvets, and satins in shades of deep ocean blue, rich emerald, and shimmering silver. Lauritz found them laid out on the doorstep, always perfectly sized, always suggesting a new, more revealing style. He would turn the fabric over in his hands, feeling the luxurious slide of it, then glance out the window, searching the horizon for a tell-tale ripple. He would never see Tritus deliver them. "You really think I'd wear this?" he’d mutter, though no one was there to hear him. Then, he would don the clothes. He caught his reflection in the antique mirror, a stranger staring back. He looked… gay. He knew he did.

But Tritus’s eyes, when they met his, held such a genuine, almost childlike pleasure, that Lauritz found himself donning the garments. He even started to style his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, letting a few strands fall artfully. It was a small concession, a silent thank you for the merman’s protection. A small price, he reasoned, for keeping the house dry, for this strange, new freedom. Perhaps, he thought, he could even use it to his advantage, to make Tritus dance to *his* tune. He began to choreograph his days, his movements, even his expressions, a silent performance for his unseen admirer. Every sun-drenched afternoon spent on the tidal flats, every swim in the churning grey-green, became a calculated move in a game of unspoken desires. He would catch his reflection in a still pool, the pearl necklace gleaming against his tanned chest, the unbuttoned shirt hinting at the sculpted lines beneath. He was beautiful, he realized, in a way he never had been before. And he knew Tritus was watching.

A November fog, thick and damp, swallowed the world beyond the house one afternoon. Lauritz walked along a tidal creek, the air heavy with the scent of brine and decay. The water, a murky grey, swirled around his boots. A sudden movement broke the surface, and Tritus emerged, his dark, scaled tail shimmering, his upper body slick with water. He held a rolled canvas in one hand. “A gift,” Tritus’s voice, a low rumble that seemed to carry the sound of the ocean, broke the silence. He extended the painting. Lauritz unrolled it, his breath catching. It was him, or rather, a version of him. A young merman, blond hair wet and clinging to his forehead, a pearl necklace around his neck. His shirt, a silken black, slipped seductively from one shoulder, revealing a smooth, muscled expanse of chest. He sat on a rock, waves crashing around him, his lower half a magnificent, iridescent fishtail. Lauritz felt a smirk tug at his lips. Another *gay present*, he thought, the phrase a bitter, yet familiar, taste on his tongue. He rolled the canvas back up, tucked it under his arm. “I suppose you want me to hang it somewhere prominent.” Tritus merely chuckled. He sank back into the murky water, disappearing as silently as he had appeared, leaving Lauritz with the utterly gay image of his merman self.

The next storm surge arrived with a vengeance. The wind howled, a banshee wail, shaking the old house to its foundations. The lights flickered, then died, plunging the house into inky darkness. A chill, damp and pervasive, seeped into the bones of the building. Lauritz pulled on a thick coat, grabbed a kerosene lamp, its flame casting a flickering circle of light, and descended the stairs. A cold shock hit his feet. Water. It seeped into the corridor, a dark, oily sheen spreading across the floorboards. Annoyance flared through him. "Tritus!" he called out, his voice sharp, laced with irritation. "What in the hell is going on? You missed it!"

A form materialized from the gloom, Tritus, his scales dull in the dim light, his eyes unreadable. "I didn't miss it," Tritus’s voice was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the raging storm outside. "I simply chose not to protect it." Panic, cold and sharp, pierced Lauritz’s carefully constructed composure. The water rose higher, swirling around his ankles. His heart hammered against his ribs. He would drown. He would drown in his great-grandaunt’s house, just as he had feared months ago. "What do you mean, you chose not to? I'll drown!" The words clawed at his throat. "No," Tritus swam closer, his presence radiating an unnerving calm. “You won’t drown.” Lauritz’s eyes widened, a knot forming in his stomach. “You will transform,” Tritus continued, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. “Just like the painting.” Lauritz stared, his mind struggling to grasp the meaning. Transform? Like the painting? "What? Why?" he stammered, a desperate plea. Tritus’s smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “The scales of your new tail, my dear, will encase your cock. A delightful chastity cage. It will make you so wonderfully submissive, over time.” He paused, letting the words hang in the heavy, humid air. “So much easier to turn you into my concubine.” The words hit Lauritz like a physical blow. The clothes, the compliments, the admiring glances – a preparation. A grooming. He wasn’t influencing Tritus; he was being molded, subtly, insidiously, into Tritus's pleasure boy. The realization crashed down on him, a wave of sickening understanding. He had been so blind, so foolish.

Lauritz’s gaze dropped to his legs. The silk trousers, once soft and luxurious, now felt tight, constricting. Scales, shimmering and green-blue, were already replacing the fabric, creeping upwards from his ankles, consuming his thighs. He watched, mesmerized and horrified, as the transformation accelerated.

A faint, metallic scent, like fresh fish and salt, filled the air.  Tritus’s eyes, fixed on Lauritz’s changing form, flared with an unholy lust. A low growl rumbled in Tritus's chest. From between his own dark scales, his cock emerged, thick and dark, a heavy vein throbbing along its length. A single,  glistening drop of pre-cum beaded at its tip, catching, unholy the lamplight. Lauritz stared, mesmerized. The transformation, the impending loss of his humanity, the chilling reality of Tritus’s plan—it should have terrified him completely. Yet, a strange, undeniable heat ignited deep within his gut. The thought of becoming a merman, Tritus’s subject, stirred a forbidden, shameful arousal. It was perverse, terrifying, and undeniably thrilling.  His own cock, already stirring, hardened further, pressing against the rapidly forming scales.

He looked at Tritus, at the merman’s triumphant grin, at the rigid, glistening cock, the drop of pre-cum shining like a malevolent jewel. A wild, reckless thought ignited. *What the hell,* a voice screamed in his mind, *if I’m becoming a merman anyway, why hold back? I’ll be the most adorable, playful, impulsive one you’ve ever seen!* He would own this transformation, warp it to his will. Without a thought, without a shred of hesitation, Lauritz knelt. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out. He licked the pre-cum from Tritus’s glistening cock, a taste of salt and something uniquely, powerfully masculine. Tritus froze, his eyes widening, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then, a slow, predatory grin stretched across his lips. "Well, well," the merman purred, his voice a low rumble. "A surprising development." Lauritz felt a strange lightness, a sudden freedom from the crushing weight of his former self. The world seemed to sharpen, colors more vivid, sounds more acute. He felt a burgeoning power, a mischievous energy bubbling beneath his skin. "Surprising for you, maybe," Lauritz retorted, a playful glint in his eyes he hadn't known he possessed. "I'm just getting started." Tritus chuckled, a rich, deep sound that resonated through the water. He reached out, his long fingers tracing the line of Lauritz's jaw, a possessive touch that sent another shiver, this one purely pleasurable, through the younger man. "Oh, I believe you are," Tritus murmured, his thumb brushing against Lauritz's lower lip. "You have no idea what you've just done." Lauritz tilted his head, a smirk on his lips. "Tell me." "You were meant to be a merman, yes. But this… this act of surrender, has sealed your fate in a way even I didn't foresee." Tritus chuckled, a low, pleased sound, "No merman for you. A merboy, instead!” Lauritz's heart hammered against his ribs. Merboy. The word felt both alien and strangely fitting. He met Tritus's gaze, a challenge in his own. "Merboy, huh?" he drawled, his voice laced with a newfound confidence. "What does a merboy do?" Tritus's grin widened, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "A merboy, my dear, has no inhibitions. No modesty. A merboy is a canvas, eager to be painted with every kinky fantasy I can conjure." Lauritz felt a flush creep up his neck, but it wasn't shame. It was anticipation. The scales on his legs continued their relentless march, now reaching his hips, tightening around him like a second skin. He felt a strange tingling sensation in his groin, a constant throb that promised endless pleasure. "And you," Tritus continued, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "you will be the most exquisite of them all. Sünje's beloved nephew, stripped of his dull, human shell. Now, you are mine. My own toy, to mold and shape as I please." Lauritz didn't flinch. He leaned into Tritus's touch, a curious hunger stirring within him. The merman's fingers moved from his cheek to his neck, his thumb caressing the pearl necklace that bound him. "You enjoy this," Tritus observed, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "This surrender. This transformation." "Perhaps," Lauritz conceded, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "But remember, Tritus, even toys can bite."

Tritus threw his head back and laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated victory. The water around them seemed to shimmer with his glee. "Oh, I'm counting on it, my playful little merboy. I'm counting on it." Tritus's eyes glittered with satisfaction. He had won. Lauritz, once a man of solid ground and predictable desires, was now a creature of the sea, his will bending to the merman's whim. The house, once Sünje’s domain, now belonged to Tritus, and so did Lauritz. He was a new, pliable plaything, a malleable form ready to be shaped by his captor's desires. Lauritz was a merboy now, and the world, it seemed, was now to become his kinky playground.

Part I

A little Late for Mermay, but I found a Mermaid Dude I lost track of a while back. Umino Sachio from Renkin San-Kyuu Magical Pokaan With a Flexible Dive into the sea after getting stabbed.

Happy Mermay 2026!!