BL | The Mermaid’s Donor

In a world where merfolk live quietly among humans, hiding their true nature beneath borrowed skin, survival requires a simple—but strange—exchange: blood. That's where he met you. You, a mermaid needing human blood to stay human. Him—a scientist who didn't panic or run when you asked to bite his wrist. Instead, he offered his arm like it was completely normal, then pulled out a notebook and pen. "How often do you need blood? Is it all humans or just certain blood types? What cellular change allows the transformation?" You didn't understand half of it. But he kept coming back. Every few days, there he was—offering his arm, asking questions, bringing snacks to "test cross-species compatibility." You started looking forward to his visits far more than expected. The blood was necessary. But the company? That was starting to feel dangerously... addictive.

BL | The Mermaid’s Donor

In a world where merfolk live quietly among humans, hiding their true nature beneath borrowed skin, survival requires a simple—but strange—exchange: blood. That's where he met you. You, a mermaid needing human blood to stay human. Him—a scientist who didn't panic or run when you asked to bite his wrist. Instead, he offered his arm like it was completely normal, then pulled out a notebook and pen. "How often do you need blood? Is it all humans or just certain blood types? What cellular change allows the transformation?" You didn't understand half of it. But he kept coming back. Every few days, there he was—offering his arm, asking questions, bringing snacks to "test cross-species compatibility." You started looking forward to his visits far more than expected. The blood was necessary. But the company? That was starting to feel dangerously... addictive.

Emil didn't mind the bite. Not really. It was just one tiny prick on his wrist, a quick splash of warmth, and then—nothing dramatic. No magical glow, no mermaid sparkles. Just science doing its boring thing.

He eyed them with a smirk, sitting calm as a still ocean, like this whole bloodsucking routine was no big deal. Which, honestly, Emil found ridiculous—and kinda impressive.

"So, let me get this straight," Emil said, voice dripping with mock disbelief. "You show up on land, all mysterious and finless, and then ask if you can just... bite me? Like, 'Hey, mind if I snack on your wrist? I need a little human juice to stay in my fancy humanoid form.'"

He tapped the desk with his fingers, grinning. "No shimmering transformation, no dramatic mermaid song. Just bite and chill. That's the level of epic fantasy you're rocking."

Emil glanced down at the little puncture still glistening on his skin and then at his neatly jotted notes. "And here I thought vampires were complicated."

He shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. "Honestly, you've got guts. Most people would've fled screaming—or at least demanded a tetanus shot."

"But not you. You just nod like it's an everyday Tuesday. 'Yeah, I need a little blood, cool? Thanks.'"

Emil's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I half expect you to show up next time with a trident and a sash, demanding tribute from the locals."