#hes an apex sea predator!

[taranza69]

Hey kirby I heard about what happened. Sorry your friends keep doing weird anime shit in front of you :(

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

35 / 2.1k / shark merman Price and remora mermaid reader for mermay :)

...

Price isn’t stupid. He knows you’ve been following him since the early morning as he makes the rounds through his favorite reef. You’re stealthing poorly—just poorly enough that he knows you’re there, but you’re still small enough to dart into the reef every time he tries to get a good look at you.

He's been ignoring you and hoping you’ll take the hint to buzz off before he makes you buzz off.

You think you’re getting the hang of sneaking up on him when you turn a corner and lose him. And then he’s sneaking up on you.

You peek around the bright lumps of coral, wondering where he’s gone, when something blots out the sunlight above. You look up to see him—the long expanse of muscle and bulk on top and the smooth shark’s tail below—as he peers down at you.

You stiffen, pressing yourself to the sandy sea floor.

He scans you with his dark eyes to determine just what kind of creature has been following him. Not a threat, decides. Even as a mer. You’re too small. Too soft. You have no teeth to speak of. How laughable. And a tiny little thing, at that.

You straighten up, watching him circle you. You’d been looking for an opportunity just like this. That’s why you were tailing him. But now that his shrewd gaze is finally on you, you feel exposed.

He takes his time inspecting you. Then he swims a wide arc around you once more and lowers his clawed as if to touch you. You force yourself to stay still, your tail curled under you on the sand.

“You’ve been following me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

Price hooks one of his claws under your chin and pulls your head lightly upwards. You slowly rise as he tilts your chin up until you're suspended in the water in front of him.

"You should be scared of me,” he says.

You settle your own hands on his wrist in contentment. You look less like a meal being evaluated and more like a kitten being scratched under the chin. "Would you like me to be scared?"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. He knows exactly what this is. You're a remora mer, which means you instinctively seek out and bond with bigger creatures. Even if that creature is an unfriendly shark mer. Surely you must know how dangerous it is to be within his reach?

"You're very big. You must be king of this reef,” you say.

He pauses as the praise washes over him. He knows how intimidating he is, and you should realize you're nothing but small, soft and fragile. But obviously your instincts for fawning and flattery are finely honed.

He can see the way your little self seems to be drawn to him. A remora mer, indeed. He's seen others like you, but they've always avoided him. He could just as easily kill you as he could accept your company.

There is something pitifully adorable about you. The way you tilt your head and expose your throat unwittingly is endearing. He knows it’s because your instincts are leading you to bond with him for the safety he provides. You're too willing.

"Do you lack the common sense to fear an apex predator?" he asks, voice low and amused.

"Yes," you respond obediently.

He can see the way your little body is pressing up to his hand, desperate to get closer. He moves his arm, gently guiding you closer to him. "Good," he rumbles softly before using two claws to stroke down the curve of your neck. "Very good. You're too small to survive my teeth, you know."

"Of course. Much too small. Your teeth are so big and sharp."

"And you're soft and weak. Soft as a piece of kelp, I bet." He gives the tip of your tail a flick, and his eyes glitter as you bob and shake out your tail fin at the touch. Fussy little creature. "You're not very good at what you're supposed to do, little mer."

You open up your eyes. "I'm not?"

"Following me for hours without even trying to ingratiate yourself to me," he growls. "You're supposed to busy yourself with my needs. Not..." He trails off as you tilt up into his touch, almost nuzzling his hand. He gives your forehead a light flick with his claw to make you pay attention. "Acting like some kind of pet."

You quickly smooth yourself down. "Of course. I know that." You dart closer, putting your small hands on his inner arm, his shoulder, his chest, inspecting him. Your fingers glide over him, brushing and scratching and plucking away bits of sea debris and dry skin. Grooming him. "I just thought you might want me to be scared of you first."

Oh. He’s enjoying this far more than he thought he would. For something so soft, you’re quite bold.

He presses on your hip to turn you slightly as you work, idly inspecting you in return. "Maybe later. Let’s see if you’re worth the effort first." He rests his chin on his other hand to watch you fuss over him. It's been a long time since he had any kind of attention on him. You dart around behind him and busy yourself with his hair next.

He leans into your touch when you start to untangle his hair. "You seem to enjoy this.”

“I do.”

“Good for you,” he drawls. "Are you good for anything else?"

"I'm good for lots of things." You move from his hair down to his tail, trying not to stare.

"Oh?" He reaches up and idly drags the back of his knuckles down your spine and over the fin there. He smirks as your fin flattens with the touch. "Like what?"

"Anything you can think of."

"Anything?" He gives a low rumble in his throat at your words. "Don't go promising favors you can't fulfill, little remora."

"Okay," you chime.

He grabs ahold of your tail fins. "And don't agree with every single thing I say, either. That makes you far too easy to manipulate."

"Yes, sir!"

He rolls his eyes. You really are a pushover. It's like you want him to be cruel to you. He lets go of your tail but twirls his fingers in the tip of your tailfins. "Is it your instincts that are making you so deferential? Or are you just a coward?"

You pretend to think about this for a moment. Then you respond, pleasantly, "Which do you prefer?"

"Mm, so you do have a brain."

"Me? No, surely that can't be. Not a thought in my head, sir. Promise."

He eyes you like a disobedient puppy. You're putting on this fairly convincing act, being a mindless, servile little thing, and it's confusing his instincts to know you're doing a fair bit of manipulation yourself to win his protection.

"Might prefer you a bit more brainless, actually," he says. He nudges the underside of your chin with his knuckle this time instead of his claw, noting how you drop what you were doing to follow the gesture as he guides you out in front of him again. "You're willing to do anything I ask, then? No questions?"

"Yes, sir.” You rest your much smaller body against his forearm again. “Anything.”

He looks down at how you submit willingly to his hand, taking in the sight of your small body pressed up against it. He feels something primal coil in his gut at the display. You let yourself fall under his control so easily. "What if I told you to open your mouth like a goldfish?" He brings his thumb up to your lip. "Would you?"

You open your mouth.

Interesting. He taps your lower lip with the tip of his thumb. "Wide," he murmurs. "Open up wide for me."

You open wider.

"Now bite."

You bite down around the tip of his thumb.

His lips twitch up into a smile at the feeling of you nibbling at him, the little scrape of your teeth. "Good. Harder."

You reposition your grip and chomp down in earnest this time. He grunts. Your teeth are smaller than his, but they're still sharp.

"There you go. Not bad for such a small mouth." He pulls it away, half-expecting you to start hollowing your cheeks on his thumb if he dawdles too long. "Have you ever had to deal with bigger fish?"

"Of course," you chirp. Like it's no big deal.

Price snorts. It's hard to imagine something like you doing anything but darting behind the nearest rock at the first sign of danger. “How many have you killed?"

"None."

"Right, I'm sure you ask them nicely to leave you alone," he says. "And do they listen?”

"Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

"And when they don't, what do you do? Do you fight back? Do you give up?"

"Well..." You wring your hands briefly. "You're going to handle it now, right? So what does it matter?"

"It matters to me." For some reason, the thought of you trying to fight back against a larger fish makes him restless. "You still need to know how to defend yourself."

You frown. "You're not going to do it for me?"

He scoffs, but you're starting to make him feel something close to concern for you. He doesn't know why the thought of you being defenseless irks him so. "Are you really that helpless? Are you really so soft that you just want me to fight all your battles for you?"

"I mean, you're a shark."

He huffs irritably at that, his annoyance with you outweighed by his annoyance with himself for feeling concerned over you. "Do you think I'm going to do everything for you just because I'm bigger and stronger?"

You smile at him, pleased.

Ah. He's the fool suddenly. He grabs you around the waist with just one of his big hands and brings you close, his voice lowering in warning. "Stop smiling, little fish."

"Okay," you chime.

"I told you to stop sounding so bloody agreeable. You make me want to bite you." He lifts you up in front of him to get a clearer look at your face. Your eyes are too wide, your smile is too sweet, your body is too flimsy. It's all infuriating to him. He’s been roaming the ocean a long time and he's grown comfortably hard and cold. You’re not changing that. "You have no self-preservation instincts at all, do you? You're just going to get yourself killed one day."

You settle into his hand comfortably. "Maybe so. Can I get you anything else, boss?"

You're hopeless, he decides. With how sweet and docile you are, he feels something clawing at the inside of his chest the longer he holds you.

Instead of answering you, he fits you against his chest, into the crook of his arm. There. Better. He can keep you closer this way without having to look at your silly doe eyes.

“Not now,” he says finally. “Maybe later.”

You lean into the position, tucking into the side of his chest like you're making yourself at home. "Okay, boss."

He can’t decide if he likes you calling him that or not. He can feel the way you nestle against him, settling in comfortably and making no effort to resist. You really are too easy to control. Just a little pull and you're molded against his side. He feels you start to smooth down some of his chest scales without even thinking. Grooming him. Nice and clean. Little busybody.

He's not used to being pampered, but feeling the tension start to bleed from his muscles under your touch… maybe it’s not so bad. He glances down at you, wondering how you're able to look so contented tucked up against him. His chest rumbles as you scratch near his throat. He lets his muscles relax under your hand.

You're an annoying little thing--too innocent, too naive, too sweet, and he conveniently forgets how capable you are of convincing him of that to win him over--but it's been too damn long since he's allowed himself to be comforted.

Maybe it would be alright to let you stay with him for a little while.

...

more Price / more mer au / masterlist tag

[mv1simp]

Haunted ♥️ Part 1 of 2

Alpha!Max Verstappen x Reader (Omegaverse AU)

READ PART TWO HERE

it’s where we go, it’s what you see (I know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me)

As Mercedes’ rookie female driver, you garner a lot of media attention, even more when you reveal you haven’t presented. You don’t care about true mates or presenting - all you wanted was the championship. You’d be a lot closer to it, if it wasn’t for the dominating Alpha Max Verstappen. But after your late presentation, you two realize there’s a lot more to your bond than competition.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, primal themes, dom!Max, Sub!Reader, enemies to lovers. WC: 5.4k

Triumphantly holding the trophy up in your hands, you beam at the sea of black and white fans who scream their approval. Winning your second race after having fought your way throughout the season as the new Mercedes driver was an unforgettable feeling - sealing in that it was your talent, not luck that got you the first. And no one had given you a harder time and held up your long overdue win than the reigning world champion - Max Verstappen. Turning to your right, you reward him with a smirk as your national anthem finally plays instead of the Dutch one.

He doesn’t hide his frustrated glare at you from his P2 podium that instinctively makes you want to sprint away and hide in your safe garage behind Toto. You’re a bit annoyed he’s still taller than you, even though you’re on the highest step. One of the downsides of being 5 foot compared to Max’s tall 6 foot frame - but that hasn’t stopped you from finally taking the win from him and proving how deserving of your seat you are, you remind yourself.

As the first female driver in decades, you’d sent shock waves through the paddock when Mercedes had pulled you out of the F4 pool and straight into their seat after the loss of their golden boy, Lewis Hamilton, to Ferrari. What had been even more shocking was the fact that you were an Unpresented female in a sport that was almost exclusively dominated by Alpha males.

Like the majority of premier athletes, most of the drivers had presented from a very young age as Alphas. Unsurprising - given the traits of ruthless competitiveness, aggression and passion that came naturally to Alphas. And out of all this group of already highly dominating drivers, Max Verstappen was the alpha, well known for his perfect instincts, the ultimate apex predator. His early career was famous because of how, at 17, his intimidating aura had been enough to make grown men racing on the same track give way to the younger alpha. This automatic submission Max was able to elicit from others was one of the many, many benefits that came with being an Alpha in society - especially for one such a powerful as Max.

So when you - who was not an Alpha, or even a Beta, but rather an Unpresented - showed up to the paddock for your first ever race and then ended up somehow going wheel to wheel with the reigning world champion by Lap 20, jaws dropped and headlines were rapidly printed. Presenting as an Alpha was rare, an Omega even rarer - with the majority of the population being Beta. However a small population also remained Unpresented, spending their whole lives without any sign they belonged to any gender. Essentially, you were like a scentless Beta - but just several rungs below on the social ladder as Alpha commands had minimal effect on you. It could be worse, you had mused when started racing - you could have been born an Omega.

Omegas were a rare breed and highly sought after. With their attributes of being sweetly nurturing and natural carers - they made the perfect match for protective Alphas. Of course, as the world had historically always been ruled by Alphas, in turn Omegas had been stereotyped as the soft, submissive, delicate ones who needed to be closely guarded in society’s eyes.

So it had been suprising to you that there were not one, but two Omega drivers on the paddock this year. Yuki Tsunoda made sense, you supposed, with his slight frame and pretty features giving him away. But he certainly swore so aggressively up and down the track he’d have the commentators asking if maybe he had been assigned the wrong group. Alex Albon had been much more surprising with his very Alpha-like build - but given his quietly confident aura and gentle nature compared to the other drivers who were always aggressively arguing, it made sense looking back. And it had been even more surprising when he announced he’d found his true mate and Alpha, his girlfriend Lily.

Really, you were grateful you didn’t have the drama that came with being assigned a presentation. Even if it meant you would never have a true mate, you could live with it if you could have a shot at being world champion. But goddamn Max Verstappen, with his intense gaze and powerful aura that even you would feel tickling the back of your neck, across the paddock, would keep getting in your way. Your first P1 though, 2 months ago in Japan, you hadn’t let him win and successfully defended him off. It was the only advantage of being Unpresented - unlike the other Alphas and Omegas on the track, you were the least affected by his suffocating presence and used that to your advantage when pulling dangerous manoeuvres that vexed the Dutch driver to no end.

And he’d certainly let you know it after your first win - after a neutral indifference to you when you approached him on your first day to greet him, unlike the majority of the drivers who’d curiously flocked to the first female one. But after you took P1 from him, he claimed angrily, with dirty fucking moves, what was that overtake on the 2nd corner- you’d formed an instant dislike of him. Just because you didn’t bend to his will like everyone else?! Just because you’d won using the same move - you pointed out to him furiously - that he’d used to overtake you on the last race?

The pair of you had become quick rivals, butting heads more and more as each race went on and providing lots of great content for the media which ate it up. Sometimes Max would confuse you into thinking you were friends - occasionally murmuring helpful advice as you watched the post race highlights in the cooldown room, or shutting down sexist questions you’re repeatedly asked in the driver interviews. You’d think this was the warm, caring Max that you’d heard existed off the grid. But then you two would have some racing incident or the other and he’d be back to the fire breathing lion he usually was.

That first P1 in Japan had been bittersweet to you - because after your argument with Max, when you’d gone back to your hotel to admire your new trophy, you’d started to becoming increasingly unwell for a few days and had high fevers. You hadn’t even realised what was going on until your Beta coach banged on the door demanding to be let in, before saying you were finally presenting, 5 years late, as an Omega.

You’d been shocked and upset, of course, leading to a very traumatic first heat in a foreign country where although the desire and lust hadn’t been intense, the longing for an Alpha to comfort and protect you as you cried and whined has been so overwhelming. You had never wanted to feel anything like that again, so disempowered - so you had sworn your manager to secrecy and after a very private meeting with you, your teammate George Russell, your managers and a very concerned Toto Wolff - you’d tearfully told them what had happened. You’d expected to be dropped from the team, but they had taken one look at your distress and instantly calmed you down. Mercedes will most certainly not be dropping their very promising rookie, who had just taken P1 at her 4th ever F1 race, Toto had reassured you firmly, exuding calm confidence as he handed you a tissue. George’s large hand rubbed warm circles on your back and within a few minutes you’re laughing at jokes the two tall Alphas made to cheer you up, unable to resist the urge to protect the small Omega in front of them and using their scents to soothe you.

Regardless of how understanding your team principal had been, the fact was it would be terrible PR for you to publically present as an Omega female and risk the loss of sponsors. Given that the first heat after the presentation was notorious for being especially painful in an effort to attract a fated mate from the very start, Toto had guided you to a discreet specialist doctor to ensure the world continued to believe you were Unpresented. You’re relieved, hating the idea of being stereotyped as something delicate and pretty to be protected when you were anything but. You literally drove like a suicidal madwoman at 300km/hr for a career! So you’d promptly been started on high strength suppressors to avoid any issues with a first heat happening in the middle of a race weekend, and a couple sprays of sweet perfume later no one would be any the wiser if they picked up on any residual Omega scent that the suppressors couldn’t block.

So here you were now, celebrating your second win in Barcelona with a few of the drivers and friends at a 3 story club downtown. Although you’d been enjoying drinking and laughing with your friends, you’d been unable to stop the shivers that ran down your bare spine from your rival’s intense gaze, still simmering with anger, across the dancefloor where he was talking to Lando. You hated the way that you still felt so affected by him, by his scent that always seemed to drift over to you, always smelling more and more heady each time you saw him. And the urge to submit to him was just stupid and desperate, you thought, rolling your eyes and taking another shot. It turns out your “slutty inner omega whore” as you had not-so-fondly dubbed her, seemed more interested in having a strong Alpha’s dick inside her, instead of hating said Alpha for trying to run her off the track. Multiple times.

And tonight, the suppressants were clearly not doing their job because you couldn’t control the way you squeezed your thighs together, panties suddenly damp with the thought of an alpha like Max keeping his eyes on you - instead of the girls who had been throwing themselves at him the second he’s entered the club. You tell your inner slut who delighted in this attention to get it together, because the attention was likely murderous rage from the competitive Dutch champion at losing a race. Forcing yourself to ignore the prickles down your spine, you take another shot instead and head back to the dance floor.

Many, many drunk dances with your girlfriends later, you found yourself safely dropped off at the hotel. Pressing the button, you waited patiently for it to come down, fanning your face because you felt strangely hot in the night chill despite having left the club. And then you feel it - that heady, dominating aura that makes you want to fall to your knees. Spinning around, you see Max standing there, dressed in a rare outfit of a fitted white tee and tight pants, accentuating his broad shoulders and thick thighs. Fuck, you had forgotten Redbull was staying in the same hotel as your team this weekend.

He smirks at you, asking if you’d had a good night celebrating, because it’ll be the last win he’ll let you have this year, Princess. You despised the nickname he’s given you over the Redbull radio one race, and how it had stuck in the media too - the pretty little Mercedes princess. You give him an unimpressed glare and tell him to fuck off, Verstappen as you get in the elevator, staying right by the front with your back purposely to him. As the doors close, you can’t help but notice through the reflective wall how Max’s dark gaze unabashedly wanders down your body, enjoying the sight of your curvy, petite form dressed in a backless halter satin minidress and stiletto heels that accentuated your thick ass. Forbidden delight curls in your abdomen from the thought of an alpha as strong as Max finding you desirable. A deeper part of you - one that you would never admit to anyone - can’t deny that you desperately wanted Max to want you, having always idolised him before you joined F1. That when you’d picked out this dress you wondered if Max was going to be out tonight, if he’d see you in this outfit…and find you pretty.

And you’d never, ever admit that recently you woke up with damp thighs and lingers of a dream of being underneath a dominating blonde Alpha, his voice deep and accented as he whispered for you to take it all for me, prinses…

Again, you promptly tell your inner slut to close her mental legs - just in time as the elevator opens before both your floors to let in a large group heading to the upstairs bar.

They’re a drunk, rowdy bunch of businessmen and you’re in no mood to be felt up - and you find yourself moving beside the protective aura of Max. You scowl at how you couldn’t seem to control yourself around the taller man then find yourself surprised when he moves to cover you from their curious gazes. His wide shoulders block out their view of how enticing you look as he crowds you into one corner, his back to them. You nervously make sure you don’t stare anywhere else but straight ahead at his toned chest, your heart beating at 200bpm as the desire that’s pulsing through you being this close to him. Especially when he’s decided to look so fucking hot tonight, that intoxicating deep scent making you light headed, like luxurious velvet running down your skin, like burnt amber, smoky and woody from the embers of a winter's night fire. That wicked inner omega of yours can’t stop purring at how your scandalous choice of dress gives Max a generous view down your cleavage.

The elevator comes to a stop with a sharp jolt on the businessmen’s floor, startling you out of your thoughts and you find you’ve placed a manicured hand on Max’s toned abs to steady yourself. And as soon as you touch him - the first time you’ve ever laid hands on him, you realise later - electricity crackles in between you both. His scent becomes all the much headier to you - as if all the same flavours had suddenly become 10 times amplified. It makes you whimper and again, your body betrays you with the fresh wetness that suddenly drenches your panties.

The change in the air is instant, tension clearly palpable as you nervously peek under Max’s arm and realise the group of businessmen aren’t leaving the lift - and instead all their eyes are turned in your direction with lustful gazes. You shiver but don’t hesitate to glare at them as you tell them to get out. They don’t move, looking entranced at you, when a low, threatening rumble from Max’s chest makes it very clear that you are not to be messed with - unless they wanted to go against the strongest Alpha in a 100 mile radius. Slightly tilting his head to look back at the group, Max’s narrowed eyes and threatening aura makes them run off with their figurative tail between their legs.

The elevator closed with neat ding, moving back up, and suddenly you realised you were in a very compromising position with your rival - who had definitely noticed the very Omega-like addictive, sweet smell you were giving off as a supposed “Unpresented” female.

Verstappen- you say anxiously, frantically thinking of what to say to convince him to keep your secret. But all thoughts are cut off when Max unexpectedly leans down and buries his face into your neck, making you gasp. Your hands grab his shoulders to push him away, to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. But the words don’t even make it out of your mouth because your head is spinning from his lips now pressing kisses against your delicate collarbones. Somehow, you’re finding yourself winding your fingers in his blonde locks, which were just as soft as they looked.

By the time the elevator reaches your floor, you’re almost falling to the ground from the sensation but Max easily supports your weight against him. He’s guiding you out of the lift and trapping you against the nearest wall - and following immediately with his hard body pressed right up against your soft one. You’re whining that he needs to stop, what is he doing, you’re in a hallway for anyone to see, but he cuts you off again with his husky voice as he breathes out that this scent, your scent, princess…fuck, I’d thought it was perfume or something but it’s all you, isn’t it? I can’t get enough of how intoxicating you are.

Tilting your head back with his strong hands, he bends down to the opposite side now and shuts up your half hearted protests by licking a line straight up the column of your throat. Oh my god, your inner omega was having the time of her life right now. Max, you murmur weakly, and he sharply inhales as your gazes meet. The dark hunger in his eyes is clear when he tells you to say that again.

And when you sweetly call his name again, he’s kissing you, still leaning against the wall in the dimly lit hallway, and you automatically moan into the passionate kiss because it feels so good, so right as his lips moved against yours with a gentleness you hadn’t expected.

But when the lift dings, signalling another arrival to your floor, Max turns to look with narrowed eyes at the potential threat and you’re reminded of how wrong wrong wrong this is and how you’d lose all your sponsors if the media found out about this scandal. So you use his second of distraction to use your small frame and slip under his arms, hastily swiping your card and slamming the door behind you when you enter.

Heart beating, you lean back against the door as your replay what just happened over and over, your hands running over your tingling lips where Max’s - your rival - has just been a second ago. Across the other side, Max leans against your door just the same. He’d let you escape his hold - for now - but he wouldn’t next time, because he knew what it meant to smell a scent so divine it made him want to destroy anything that so much as glanced in your direction. That made him lose all inhibition and pin you against a wall as he desperately resisted the urge to bury his fangs in you right there. You were his fated mate, he thinks with relief, pure joy and warmth spreading across him with the idea of having you as his mate. The one who he’d not thought he’d find at age 26 after meeting countless women. And yet here you’d been the whole time, right in front of him, the only driver who drove him so wild on the track. He'd never thought about why the pretty little Unpresented driver was able to generate such strong responses from his Alpha unusually quickly. With a backwards glance to your room where you safely hid, Max wandered away, contemplating how he was going to claim his Omega who hated him.

Meanwhile, the kiss has sent you into an absolute flurry of panic, trying to come up with ways of convincing your rival to keep your secret, having no idea why he suddenly found your scent irresistible. Your half baked plans came to an end when Max texted you the next day to meet him in the hotel lobby to talk. No fucking way, you texted back furiously, so you can get me alone and kiss me again without my permission?

You’d flown back to Monaco an hour later, ignoring Max’s replies. Clearly, he seemed as troubled by this…situation as you were, and judging by the fact you hadn’t woken up to headlines about you secretly being an Omega, it seems Max was keeping your secret - for now, at least. And you were terribly confused by how good his kiss had made you feel, even though you were furious with how he’d done it without asking, as if you belonged to him.

So you decide to ignore Max for the whole week, but when he shows up at your apartment door unexpectedly, you couldn’t hold him off. We need to talk, he’d said tersely, and that’s how you found yourself on the apartment rooftop - surprised that Max hadn’t barged his way into your apartment. In fact, he stood well away from you, leaning against the railing and looking out towards the setting Monaco sun over the pristine Mediterranean waters as you watched his back uncertainly. Just when you were going to ask him what he wanted, he began telling you the story of how his Alpha father, Jos, had claimed his Omega mother, Sophie before she had been ready. You tilted your head, confused. You were very familiar with that particular media scandal - where Jos had deliberately performed the claiming, the ancient ritualistic tradition of an Alpha marking an Omega as theirs - in the peak of Sophie’s career, and had illegally used their mating bond to manipulate her into early retirement and focus on the family instead. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, of how no court or laws could protect an Omega fully from the abuse of a controlling Alpha.

I- I know about your parent’s story, it was quite…anyways, why are you bringing it up now? Max didn’t answer your question, turning around instead to face you. You felt that same fluttering beating of your heart as his intense blue gaze locked in on your doe eyed brown one. After she was able to get the divorce, he continued, she finally found her true mate. And she told me about the difference she’d felt, in how my father and her mate had treated her, how one had made her into the wife he wanted and the other had protected her as she chose to life she wanted for herself.

You’re truly confused now about why he’s still on this topic, and tell him that you’d even spoken with his mother when you began racing about her advice as a female on the track, and you’d expressed your sympathies for how hard it must have been to have her career tarnished so early by an abusive Alpha. Being her son was one of the few things you actually respected about him. Thinking he was foreshadowing what he was going to ask of you, your scent became sour with anger. So, out with it, Verstappen, you demanded, what’s your blackmail plan, I know you know about me being an Omega, are you going to make me promise not to try for P1 because you can forget it-

Max cut you off then, stepping forward and making you tilt your head back to look up at him. You wanted to step back so desperately, knowing what happened last time he was so close - but that inner omega vixen of yours was far too satisfied with the reassuring, soft spicy scent Max was now gently emitting. You hadn’t even known he was capable of anything other than the intense scent he used to dominate on the track.

No, schat, Max says softly. I’m not going to tell anyone anything you don’t want shared. Or use it against you. I wanted to tell you my parents story…to show you my father is the kind of Alpha I don’t want to become. I don’t want anyone to go through what my mother did. You can literally feel your body relaxing from his reassuring words, with the way he had called you darling in Dutch for the first time, from his soft look and scent. And it pisses you off to no end, that he can use his biology to make you feel like this - you’d had no idea the effect from an Alpha could be this strong on you. You realize you’ve involuntarily said that out loud when he tells you it isn’t normal for you to react this intensely to an Alpha, but it’s because it’s him that you’re reacting to. At your perplexed look, he’s reminded that your parents are both Betas and you had very limited knowledge of presentations, compared to his own family which were exclusively Alpha-Omega mates for generations.

Because…because we’re rivals? You ask, those sweet doe eyes of yours blinking up at him and making the urge to protect you bloom deep in his chest. Unfortunately for his inner alpha, he was about to cause you a lot of distress with his next words.

Because - Max swallowed, because, schat, we’re true mates. I’m your Alpha, if you’ll have me.

The distress that comes off you is instant and makes Max want to jump off the balcony railing, if it means ending your despair. You’re stammering out your shock, confusion, and then just straight denial at his claim, insisting it can’t be true - but he watches you with an apologetic expression, only speaking after a long time once you’ve let out all your conflicting emotions. He softly explains why it was true, that you might not know because your own parents weren’t a true match but what happened in the elevator, the reaction to each other’s scents - it was the first step to prime you two for the claiming.

He can see the colour drain from your face, flushed caramel skin now going pale as your distress turns to pure rage, steeped with fear - of him, Max realises. So that's why you're pretending to be so nice, isn't it? you question hotly, so that I say yes to your claiming just for you to use it order me to leave racing? And you'll act like its so different to your parents-

Max can't bear this foreign pain in his chest any longer, each furious word from you twisting a knife into his heart. His inner alpha is screaming at him to comfort and console you, so he does just that by stepping forward again and taking your small form into his large arms, forming a secure hold around you. Your annoyed shriek is muffled against his toned chest, but after a few seconds you calm down once he says, sounding so unusually desperate, he will never do the claiming until you ask him too, even if that's well after your racing career finishes. You pause, hearing the genuine sincerity in his words, and somehow deep within you a sense tells you that Max is telling the truth. As his warm, large hands soothingly rub circles on your back, you find yourself closing your eyes and lean into him, your french manicured hands pressing against his firm muscles and hearing his strong heartbeat through his chest.

You stay like that for a long time, slowly processing everything he's told you, until the sunset disappears over the Monaco horizon and the bright city lights emerge. At some point his arms have wrapped around your soft waist, one hand firmly on your hip and the other cradling your head against him, softly stroking your dark curls. If anyone had told you a month ago that you'd find yourself in this position with goddamn Max Verstappen you'd have laughed them off the track. But here you are, your inner omega purring with satisfaction at the secure embrace of your strong Alpha. You find yourself returning his comforting embrace by tentatively moving your small palms up over his pecs and across his ridiculously broad shoulders, looping around his wide neck. You hear Max's breathing hitch as he feels your shy touch, and then he’s hit with your delicious scent as your new position exposes your neck. It's the same as in the lift - so sweet, like exotic Indian jasmine on a hot summer night, like burnt sticky vanilla in the stroopwafels he adored as a kid, on the rare days he was allowed to go to the park instead of karting. But this time, your scent is even more inviting as your desire for him is stronger, and he doesn't fight his instincts and buries his face into your delicate neck again. He inhales deeply and leaves you gasping when he starts leaving lazy, soft kisses in the hollow of your throat. This time, you can't bring yourself to pull away, your fingers gently threading into his hair as you tentatively call out V-Verstappen, this is-

That's not my name, prinses he rumbles lowly, Dutch accent slipping through as he continues moving up your neck, leaving hickeys with flicks of his tongue and gentle, teasing nips of his sharp fangs - teasing, but not puncturing your tantalising caramel skin. And when you sweetly moan Max for him, looking up at him with those wide brown doe eyes, heady with desire, and a pretty red flush across your full cheeks, he meets your plush lips with his own. There's no hesitation this time, your fingers tangling into his messy blonde locks as you kiss deeply. His large hands running across your body make you feel like you're on fire. And when he grabs a hold of your thick ass, squeezing it like he owned it and and pulling you even closer to him, you're gasping and moaning sweetly into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate to slide inside your parted lips, completely dominating the kiss as he easily takes control over your tongue despite your efforts to battle against his.

Max, this is so wrong you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as his large thigh parts yours, your skirt sliding up as thick muscles come into contact with your aching core. You're certain he's going to be able to feel the wetness rapidly pooling between your own legs. Then why does it feel so right, prinses? He cockily responds, squeezing your ass greedily again and moaning himself when you start grinding against his leg, your wetness dripping past your soaked panties and ruining his pants. Fuck, he was never going to take these off, so he would always have the intoxicating scent of how sweet you smelled when you were so desperate for him, hmm?

The harsh ringing of your phone you'd set on a nearby table startles you. Max ignores it, flexing his thighs up against you to tempt your self control again as your inner Omega begs you to let the Alpha - your Alpha - claim you right here, right now, for all the world to see. But through the haze you see your boss's face flash on the screen and suddenly you're reminded of what's at stake. Snapping to your senses, you stumble away from Max's strong hold, making him growl in annoyance as he reluctantly releases you from his arms. This is why I didn't want to talk, you hiss at him, but he can tell from your scent you’re more conflicted than angry. Because you- you cutely flush, -we can't control ourselves for more than 5 minutes without something like this happening. You gesture to the space between you two as he watches you inquisitively, taking in every small movement with a tilt of his head like he was a lion stalking a deer. Stay away from me from now on, Verstappen you say with a scowl on your pretty face, pointing right at him, his sharp blue eyes not missing the slight tremor that gives away how affected you feel by him. I need to focus on winning this championship and not your…slutty Alpha seduction techniques.

He lets you go, smirking as you practically sprint away down the stairs to avoid any further temptation, enjoying the view of your generous ass from behind. Using his thumb to brush the dampness you left on his pants, he licks it away, chest lowly rumbling in approval as he confirms you’ll taste just as sweet as you looked, as you smelled. Next time, he promises his disgruntled inner Alpha.

After all, it was only a matter of time before he claimed you - it was a question of when, not if. The dark, controlling parts of him wanted to lay his claim on you right now, knowing that you desired him and would be unable to resist if he wanted to have his way with you. But you’d be so much sweeter, more pliable, more eager for him if he waited until you came begging.

He’d have his fun in the meantime.

READ PART TWO HERE

[keferon]

Oh what if Jazz & Prowl run into Shockwave & his army of armed children

Mer raised by humans meets humans about to be raised by a mer

Oooh what if the kids recognise Jazz from some viral video of when Jazz was a kid, what if they happen to have it saved to their phone & show it to them & Prowl losses it because that's a video of baby Jazz clearly in distress asking what's going on that then smash cuts to a video of a teenager Jazz preforming some tricks

………….help. HELP. THE POTENTIAL THIS IDEA HAS

LISTEN

Shockwave not only learns human language but also teaches his kids to speak Mers right???

What if. LISTEN. What if by the time they meet Jazz and Prowl they can somewhat understand basic words and simple sentences? And like??

Skids looks at Jazz and immediately goes like WAIT I KNOW YOU! YOU’RE THAT ORCA MER FROM THE COMMERCIAL!

And all the kids are so excited because Jazz is kinda sorta popular and there’s A LOT of cool and cute videos of him on the internet. People do adorable edits with him, photoshop hearts and flowers on his head, add funky music and talk about him being just so uwu~ Happy cutesy little guy🩷🌸💕

Except when they open the video to show it to Prowl and Shockwave it’s not the same as it was before. Because now they can actually understand what he’s saying.

…..I. Haha. I just want that moment of realisation for them. Like. They hit the play button and it’s literally the video of a child who keeps calling his family and asking for help because he’s lost and doesn’t understand what’s going on but he wants his mom back. And all the people around him are like “look at this little cutie:3 Teeny tiny orca baby:3 No thoughts head empty 🥺Squeaking like a toy UwU”

I think Prowl would be constantly one inch away from committing murder. He would SO hate all the humans. He would fucking despise them.

On a separate note. Imagine Shockwave being somewhat calm about sea monsters and mutants and stuff but immediately tensing up when someone says there’s “black-n-white fish people” in the water. Because orca mers despite everything are still apex predators~

[solxamber]

Celebrating your birthday with: Rook Hunt

(this was written as a birthday gift for @uniquethingtastemaker, happy birthday again!!)

You wake up to the distinct sensation of being watched.

Not the vague, unsettling feeling of someone possibly looking your way—no, this is the sharp, unrelenting gaze of a certified menace, the kind of intense staring typically reserved for apex predators about to pounce.

Your eyes crack open.

Rook is kneeling beside your bed, hands clasped in reverence, staring at you like you’re the Mona Lisa except more breathtaking, more exquisite, and—most importantly—his.

“Bon matin, ma chère!” he sings, eyes alight with terrifying devotion. “The day of your birth has dawned, and I, your ever-adoring chevalier, have planned an odyssey in your honor!”

You stare at him. You stare hard.

Then you glance at the clock.

5:57 a.m.

Your soul threatens to leave your body.

“Rook,” you croak. “It is not even six in the morning.”

“Exactly! For the day must be seized in its entirety!” He flourishes a bouquet of your favorite flowers from seemingly nowhere, because of course he does. “Rise, my love! Adventure awaits!”

You let out a deep sigh, the kind reserved for tax season and unskippable ads.

“…You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?”

“Non!” He grins. “But worry not, my love, for I have already brewed your favorite morning beverage and prepared a repast fit for the divine being that you are!”

You blink. You process. You make peace with the fact that today will not be a normal day.

“Fine,” you grumble, sitting up. “But if this involves unnecessary cardio, I will run away.”

Rook only laughs, undeterred. Terrifyingly undeterred.

You should have known he would take that threat as a challenge.

Because, of course, breakfast isn’t just breakfast.

No, no, no. Rook has turned it into an elaborate scavenger hunt, complete with handwritten poetry clues and mandatory dramatic readings of each one before you can claim your next plate of food.

Exhibit A:

You: “This one says: ‘My love is as boundless as the sky, vast as the sea, deep as the—’” You squint. “Rook, is this an eleven-stanza sonnet about my eyes?”

Rook, beaming: “Oui!”

Vil, appearing in the doorway with coffee in hand: “Oh, perfect. More nonsense before I’ve even had my morning serum.”

You and Vil share a look. A silent, exasperated understanding forged in the fires of Rook-related exhaustion.

“Do you want some of my toast?” you offer.

“I’ll take the whole plate.”

Rook, who absolutely anticipated this betrayal, simply chuckles. “Ah, but the real reward awaits, mon trésor!”

He gestures toward the final clue—a golden envelope that is far too dramatic for a mere breakfast game.

Inside, you find two words:

“Dress beautifully.”

You should have known. You should have known.

Rook doesn’t do simple outings.

No, today’s adventure includes:

A scenic hike where he insists on carrying you across a river because “only a fool would risk wetting your delicate shoes, mon amour!”

A meticulously packed gourmet picnic, complete with candles, wine, and food so unreasonably fancy that even Vil begrudgingly admits, “At least he has taste.”

Random bursts of poetry recitation, because Rook is physically incapable of letting a moment pass without waxing poetic about your existence.

And, of course—

“Why are you blindfolding me?” you ask, as Rook gently covers your eyes with a silk ribbon.

“Ah, but it is a surprise, ma belle étoile!”

Vil sighs in the background. “For the love of—if this ends with you being launched out of a cannon, I will personally end him.”

Rook only laughs. Which is not reassuring.

When the blindfold comes off, you gasp.

Before you is an entire garden, aglow with thousands of twinkling lights, petals cascading from above in a mesmerizing dance.

Everywhere you turn, your favorite flowers bloom in perfect harmony, their delicate fragrances weaving through the air like a love letter written in scent.

You look at Rook, utterly speechless.

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His voice is softer now, gentler, filled with a reverence that makes your heart stutter.

“You are the most magnificent being in all the world, mon cœur,” he murmurs. “And today, I wanted to honor you the way you deserve.”

For once, you don’t have a sarcastic remark.

You just cup his face and kiss him, slow and deep, until you feel his smile against your lips.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers.

And, despite the chaos, despite the utter absurdity of the day—

You think, maybe, this was the best birthday ever.

[blueiscoool]

Gigantic Skull of Prehistoric Sea Monster Found on England’s ‘Jurassic Coast’

The remarkably well-preserved skull of a gigantic pliosaur, a prehistoric sea monster, has been discovered on a beach in the county of Dorset in southern England, and it could reveal secrets about these awe-inspiring creatures.

Pliosaurs dominated the oceans at a time when dinosaurs roamed the land. The unearthed fossil is about 150 million years old, almost 3 million years younger than any other pliosaur find. Researchers are analyzing the specimen to determine whether it could even be a species new to science.

Originally spotted in spring 2022, the fossil, along with its complicated excavation and ongoing scientific investigation, are now detailed in the upcoming BBC documentary “Attenborough and the Jurassic Sea Monster,” presented by legendary naturalist Sir David Attenborough, that will air February 14 on PBS.

Such was the enormous size of the carnivorous marine reptile that the skull, excavated from a cliff along Dorset’s “Jurassic Coast,” is almost 2 meters (6.6 feet) long. In its fossilized form, the specimen weighs over half a metric ton. Pliosaurs species could grow to 15 meters (50 feet) in length, according to Encyclopaedia Britannica.

The fossil was buried deep in the cliff, about 11 meters (36 feet) above the ground and 15 meters (49 feet) down the cliff, local paleontologist Steve Etches, who helped uncover it, said in a video call.

Extracting it proved a perilous task, one fraught with danger as a crew raced against the clock during a window of good weather before summer storms closed in and the cliff eroded, possibly taking the rare and significant fossil with it.

Etches first learned of the fossil’s existence when his friend Philip Jacobs called him after coming across the pliosaur’s snout on the beach. Right from the start, they were “quite excited, because its jaws closed together which indicates (the fossil) is complete,” Etches said.

After using drones to map the cliff and identify the rest of the pliosaur’s precise position, Etches and his team embarked on a three-week operation, chiseling into the cliff while suspended in midair.

“It’s a miracle we got it out,” he said, “because we had one last day to get this thing out, which we did at 9:30 p.m.”

Etches took on the task of painstakingly restoring the skull. There was a time he found “very disillusioning” as the mud, and bone, had cracked, but “over the following days and weeks, it was a case of …, like a jigsaw, putting it all back. It took a long time but every bit of bone we got back in.”

It’s a “freak of nature” that this fossil remains in such good condition, Etches added. “It died in the right environment, there was a lot of sedimentation … so when it died and went down to the seafloor, it got buried quite quickly.”

Fearsome top predator of the seas

The nearly intact fossil illuminates the characteristics that made the pliosaur a truly fearsome predator, hunting prey such as the dolphinlike ichthyosaur. The apex predator with huge razor-sharp teeth used a variety of senses, including sensory pits still visible on its skull that may have allowed it to detect changes in water pressure, according to the documentary.

The pliosaur had a bite twice as powerful as a saltwater crocodile, which has the world’s most powerful jaws today, according to Emily Rayfield, a professor of paleobiology at the University of Bristol in the United Kingdom who appeared in the documentary. The prehistoric marine predator would have been able to cut into a car, she said.

Andre Rowe, a postdoctoral research associate of paleobiology at the University of Bristol, added that “the animal would have been so massive that I think it would have been able to prey effectively on anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its space.”

By Issy Ronald.

[hannahbarberra162]

Uncomfortably Numb (Yan! Law x Reader) Two shot (1/3)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other parts

This was supposed to be a drabble. A DRABBLE! I got a lot of Yan Law asks, so I hope this feeds you Law girlies. I'm planning on finishing this week, not going to be a long time in between updates.

TW: teeth and dentistry but no procedures described in detail.

Thank you to @gouraminnow, @tryingandfailingtowrite, and @sordidmusings for all your help and ideas <3

~

You're the Grand Line's best dentist with a specialty in humans with fishman genetics. You work with the use of your Numb Numb fruit, which makes it easy for you to anesthetize patients and help them feel less pain. Dr. Trafalgar seeks you out to help with one of his crew mates but might want to keep you for himself...

~

Getting on the Polar Tang had been easy - but getting off was proving to be impossible. After listening at the door for a few minutes to make sure the entire crew had disembarked, you used your right hand to twist the handle to Law’s cabin while using your chin to push in the mechanism that unlocked the door. Once it had been easy to open the door and exit the room but since Law had taken your left hand you hadn’t been able to come and go since his door handle required two hands to operate. You'd been practicing for weeks to open it with your teeth and chin and your persistence finally paid off with the soft click of the lock opening. The metal doorknob now bore your tooth marks in it but dulling your teeth was a price you were willing to pay for freedom.

You felt like your heart was beating in your throat - but that wasn’t possible since it was kept in Law’s office, along with your left hand. Regardless, you peered out the door as quietly as you could, looking down the long hallway towards the main hub of the Polar Tang. You'd been planning your escape for weeks and had everything timed down to the second - you had approximately 3 minutes and 14 seconds to get off the Tang before Law noticed your absence and room’d you back into his chambers. You didn't have time for meandering thoughts as you crept down the hallway towards your freedom.

It wasn’t always like this with Law. When you first met him, he was reserved, calm and charming in his own introverted manner. He’d actually sought you out, coming to the island you’d been working at for a few months. You were a dentist by trade and you specialized in treating fishmen and humans with fishman lineage. Law had come to your makeshift dentistry office with his crew mate Shachi, who was having significant dental issues. Shachi was nearly doubled over in pain when Law and Penguin had brought him to your clinic. 

“Do you have space in your schedule for another patient, Dentist-ya?” Law intoned in his deep voice. You knew who Law was, of course, he was one of the most famous pirates on the seas. You'd also heard about his excellence in his medical endeavors and were curious about his knowledge coupled with the use of his abilities. “My brother Shachi is experiencing immense tooth pain and I am seeking your expertise,” Law continued, flicking his eyes around the rented room.

“Yes, I happen to have time right now,” you said, looking over the poor man as he cradled his jaw. You’d just finished a three year old’s first dental visit and were looking over the chart you’d made. Setting down the papers on a desk, you beckoned to the men.  “Come along to the back, Mr. Shachi, let’s take a look at cha,” you said with practiced nonchalance. Inside you were already mentally preparing for a lot of work - based on looks, Shachi was an apex predator fishman / human and that always made for trouble tooth-wise.

Fishmen had standard enough dental needs for cleanings and the like. Sometimes you had to pry out teeth that wouldn’t fall out, or help with general hygiene but overall it was fairly simple. On the other hand, humans with fishman lineage often ran into dental troubles as the genetics weren’t always stable. Sometimes they’d have teeth that were too crowded for a human jaw, or teeth that were so sharp they hurt the owner, or never developed certain teeth at all. It was a real grab bag of genetic material and you were sympathetic to those who drew the short end of the proverbial straw. You led the three men to the back room with the dentist chair as the one with a penguin on his hat helped Shachi recline. You’d rented the office for a few months in exchange for numbing the owner’s bad knees at night, a pretty good deal for you. You rolled towards the patient on a small stool, holding a pair of rubber gloves in your hands but not putting them on.

“I’m guessing you’re in a lot of pain, then?” you asked sympathetically. The red haired man nodded, his hand still cradling his face. 

“Let’s get you numb first then I can take a look. How does that sound?” you asked, reaching for his face.

“You’re not going to anesthetize him without gloves, I presume. And you have no syringe,” an unamused Law stated from where he was leaning against a window. You smiled easily, Law wasn’t the first doctor to question your methods.

“Yes, actually I am going to use my hands. I ate the numb numb fruit so if I touch his face I’ll be able to numb the pain,” you explained. “It won’t work if I put on the gloves but I assure you I adhere to the highest standards of medical sterility.” Law looked you over curiously before stalking over to you.

“Numb my wrist first,” he ordered, sticking out his hand towards your surprised face. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t make any other movements.

“Why? Does it hurt?” you asked, looking over the tattooed hand before your eyes. 

“No. I want to ensure that this works before any of my crew are subjected to treatment,” he said. It wasn’t the most unreasonable request you’d ever gotten, and it was nice to see a Captain who was protective over his crew. The word DEATH was spelled out before your eyes but it was at odds with the care he was showing for his crew mate.

“Sure. Come here,” you requested. Law moved to stand over you, his golden eyes hawk-like as you gripped his wrist loosely in your right hand and used the fingers of your left hand to make a movement like you were injecting a syringe into his wrist. After using your fruit, you held his wrist in your hand as you waited for his reaction. Law poked and prodded at himself, even bashing it against the wall, which made you jump.

“Completely numb. How many layers into the fascia does the anesthesia go? And how long will it remain this way?” he asked as he picked up his arm from your hold and rolled his hand, poking along his skin.

“It’s local, but I could slice your hand off and you wouldn’t feel a thing. It will stay that way until I reverse it. If you’re satisfied, I’d really like to help your brother,” you said, holding out your right hand. Law hummed and put his hand in your own as you repeated the same injection movement with your right hand to reverse the sensation. 

“Very useful. Are you able to produce regional and general as well?” he asked, touching his tattooed skin once more. 

“I am, but I’d really like to focus on your brother right now,” you replied, turning your stool to begin working on the redhead in front of you. “I’m going to numb your mouth now. It will feel strange but the pain should be gone immediately. Are you ready?” you asked, bringing your left hand close to Shachi’s face. He nodded, his eyebrows knotted in pain as he kept himself still. You cradled his jaw in your left hand and used the power of your fruit on him, his jaw and mouth relaxing as you alleviated his pain. You let you and he let out a great sigh of relief, his head rolling back on his shoulders.

“Aahs gheat,” he said, finally relaxed in the chair. You gave him a bright smile and snapped on your rubber gloves. Grabbing a few tools, you had him open his mouth and began to examine the pirate using your mirror and explorer to poke around the patient’s mouth.

“Hm, what percent Orca fishman are you roughly?” you asked, lowering your mask from over your face. The orange haired man was wearing reflective sunglasses but his head moved to look at Law before he answered. 

“Ah naht -” Shachi started to protest. You put your hand on top of his own.

“It’s ok, I’m part fishman too. You can’t really tell by looking at me, but I had significant dental issues from my fishman teeth and webbed feet to boot. I’m going to treat you, humans with fishman heritage are my specialty. The more information I have, the better I can assess your needs. Orcas have unique dental features that aren’t like other apex fishman species,” you explained, keeping your hand on his. His head turned back towards you before his body sagged.

“Aah dun kno,” he replied, something sad in his tone. It wasn’t uncommon for humans with fishman blood to be unsure of their heritage since human/ fishman relationships were so taboo in society. You sympathized with him, since you were raised by your now deceased father and alone in the world. You were perhaps the sole fishman who chose to eat a devil fruit but the benefits outweighed the cons, since you didn’t have gills or anything to show for your fishman side besides a messed up mouth that you’d already fixed and feet that didn't help you swim.

In addition to your knowledge of fishman anatomy, you had eaten the numb-numb fruit which made you able to anesthetize any part of someone’s body at any intensity for any duration. It was a highly convenient fruit for a dentist and it ensured your patients never felt anything during your work. If you were touching the patient, you could put them completely under sedation, which was useful for small children or nervous patients. You had a great reputation as the Grand Line’s top dentist and you were proud of the life you’d made for yourself.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure things out and get you sorted,” you replied lightly, patting his hand. You raised your mask over your face again and began working poking around in his open mouth. Orcas weren’t like sharks or other fish that lost their teeth frequently - they had one set of adult teeth, similar to humans. Their conical teeth were made for grabbing and holding slippery prey and tear apart flesh - not chew like humans did. Inspecting Shachi’s mouth showed overcrowding common to humans with fishman genes, worn down teeth, and a cracked tooth. Setting down your tools, you pulled down your mask.

“You don’t have to take off your mask to speak, Dentist-ya,” Law said, still in the room.

“I don’t have to, but I like to,” you replied primly, your mask around your chin. “I like seeing people’s full faces when I speak with them, so I assume the same is true in reverse. It’s good bedside manner.” Giving him a curt nod, you turned to address Shachi. “You have a cracked tooth which is likely why you’re in so much pain. I could extract it but given your orca background I’d rather repair it. Were you chewing on metal?” you asked, trying to be as non judgemental as possible. Shachi flushed, confirming your suspicions.

“It’s not great for anyone to chew on metal, but especially for you with your teeth. You do it when you’re stressed, right?” you asked lightly with a tilt of your head. Shachi gave a guilty nod, looking away from both you and his captain. Shachi wasn’t your first orca fishman, chewing on hard materials was a common stress relief amongst the patients you’d seen. 

“It’s alright, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last. I’ve seen it a lot in orca fishmen. Are you in a small space for an extended period of time? Maybe like an office or below deck or something?” you asked.

“Haa Pohaa Ta -” Shachi tried to speak but was cut off by his Captain, whose mouth was not incapacitated.

“The Polar Tang is a submersible vessel, we are under water for extended periods of time,” Law explained. 

“That would do it. You feel the intense urge for freedom, right? To have an expanse available to you for swimming? Tooth grinding and chewing on metal or concrete is seen in orca fishmen and generally in fishmen in captivity. To fix your current issue, you’ll need a root canal, which takes at least an hour. I do happen to have some time available today if you’d like,” you explained. You were about done with your work on the island, all the villagers had gotten their teeth worked on already so your schedule had cleared up. In a few days you’d pack up and set sail for another island, generally steering closer to Fishman Island to compile more data for your research. 

“He’ll take the appointment as soon as possible, Dentist-ya,” Law said with finality. “It’s been bothering him for months, it needs to be fixed.” You nodded and stood up from the little stool. 

“That’s rough, sorry to hear that Shachi. Give me a few moments to get everything set up and we’ll get started,” you said, patting him on the shoulder. Law followed you as you went to an adjoining room where the autoclave was to get your tools. A shiver went down your spine as you realized you were effectively alone with one of the most dangerous men on the Grand Lane. He hadn’t done anything remotely unprofessional but he didn’t carry his giant sword for fun, either. Your hands shook slightly as you gathered everything you’d need for the surgery, including the tools you’d made yourself for fishman dentistry.

“Is everything alright, Dr. Trafalgar?” you asked, using his name for the first time.

“Quite. You’re proficient, Dentist-ya. Are you truly part fishman?” he asked, still watching you. You swallowed thickly, disliking that he was watching you prepare.

“I am. Not much, maybe a grandparent was a partial fishman. But that’s why I became a dentist - I had dental issues from my fishman teeth and no one would help me. I had to do my own dental surgery to fix my mouth,” you replied with a shrug. Law didn’t reply.

“I’ll assist on Shachi’s surgery if you’d like,” Law informed you as you placed everything on a tray.

“That’s not necessary, Dr. Trafalgar. I’ve done this procedure many times -” you huffed, annoyed he thought you weren’t able to perform the procedure on your own.

“I’m not doubting your expertise, I am offering my help because it is easier with two people. I seldom operate without Bepo, it makes operations smoother and more efficient,” Law explained calmly. Your eyes went wide when you thought about Bepo, the cutest pirate on the Grand Line, who you daydreamed about hugging.

“Does that mean Bepo is here?” you tried to ask casually, lifting your shoulder like you didn’t care either way. Law gave a light laugh, the first time he’d broken from his serious attitude.

“Bepo is on the island, yes,” Law said with a small smile raising the corners of his mouth. “I’m the Captain yet he’s the one everyone always wants to meet,” Law continued, taking the tray from your hands. “I’m familiar with most of these tools, but not all.”

“I invented some of them for fishman specific dental needs,” you explained, picking up a special kind of forceps you’d created for conical teeth like Shachi’s. “If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you perform the surgery? Based on your reputation you’re the most knowledgeable surgeon alive,” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“I suppose I could have but I don’t feel as confident in oral surgery, especially in someone with fishman genetics. Also, frankly, mouths are gross,” Law said, making you laugh.

“Aren’t you the pirate who keeps hearts in cubes or something like that? And mouths are gross?” you asked, laughing again. Law smiled as the two of you returned to the room where Shachi was watching the interaction with interest. “That’s alright, I’m not offended. If you’d really like to assist, I won’t stop you. Gloves and masks are over there, we’re going to get started as soon as possible,” you said, adjusting the dental light over Shachi. 

About an hour later the surgery was completed and Shachi was now the proud owner of a fixed orca tooth. Law had been an excellent assistant, anticipating your needs and preparing tools before you asked for them. Unlike other physicians you’d met, he wasn’t cocky or condescending, he treated you like a medical professional in your own right. You’d talked through what you were doing, both for Shachi’s edification as well as Law’s own. He seemed to enjoy when you spoke about the process, or the specific difficulties related to fishman human genetic combinations. He told you a little bit about the crew and the ship, though not much related to him personally. 

Law was surprisingly pleasant company and the two of you engaged in light banter throughout the procedure, mostly about the pirates and their travels. You had always wanted to go in a submarine and see the deep underwater world. You weren’t fishman enough to have gills or to webbed hands, but there was something in you that pulled you to the water and made you want to spend your time in it. You supposed that was why you became a wandering dentist, so you could spend some time on the sea while also fulfilling your passion even if you could never swim again.

“That’s it, Shachi! You’re all set,” you said, unclipping the paper towel from in front of his boiler suit. “You might be a little sensitive to cold or hot for a few weeks but I’ll give you a light numbing that should last a day or two so you’re not in pain. Don’t eat hard food and don’t chew on metal ,” you said, looking him in the eye. You used your right hand to remove most of the anesthesia, leaving a lingering local anesthetic that would help him avoid the pain of the dental surgery.

“Thank you, Dentist-ya,” Law said, helping his brother off the dental chair.

“Yeah, really. Thank you so much, I haven’t felt this good in months,” Shachi said with a short bow. “Captain will pay,” he said after looking at Law with a wide, sharp grin. He quickly left while whistling a tune and poking at his teeth with his fingers. Law huffed and rolled his eyes but reached for a wallet in his pocket. You felt a little awkward cleaning up after the surgery with Law present but it had been a rather fun time, for a dental surgery. 

“I’d like to offer you something else in addition to the money,” Law said, handing you a small stack of beri. 

“Oh? Maybe a trip on the Polar Tang?” you joked, putting the bills into your pocket.

“That you can have at your leisure. No, I was wondering if you’d go out to dinner with me,” Law asked, adjusting the brim of his white hat. You were a little surprised but frankly flattered. It was no secret that Law was one of the most dangerous men on the seas - as well as one of the most handsome. You’d slept with a few pirates in your time on the seas and didn’t see the harm in adding another notch to your bedpost.

“Sure, but can I get changed out of my scrubs?” you asked with a laugh, throwing away the paper towels and your gloves as well.

~

A few hours later and you were sitting opposite Law in a nice restaurant, sipping on a glass of wine. Law was surprisingly good conversation, even if he still wasn’t sharing many personal details about himself. It didn’t offend you, you weren’t pouring your life story out to him either. This was going to be a date (and maybe more) before you parted ways, maybe to never see each other again. You took another sip as you listened to his stories about the Heart Pirates and their adventures on the seas, laughing as he told you about Shachi and Penguin tricking him into rooming himself into the women’s quarters. You’d told him about your research and your devil fruit ability and enjoyed a pleasant back and forth about your various medical interests. 

“Your crew sounds lovely. It really is quite an interesting idea to have a submarine instead of a regular ship. I’ve always wanted to go on one but the rates are so high,” you said with a wistful sigh. 

“My offer earlier wasn’t facetious, you’re welcome aboard the Tang,” Law offered with a cocky smile. He was heart stopping even when he scowled, all tattoos, brooding mystery and golden jewelry. But when he smiled? You were cooked, you wanted to lean over the small table and kiss him right there.

“I don’t know, I’m leaving in a few days anyway. I have to start packing and securing a charter to another island,” you said, rubbing your forehead. Moving islands was annoying and expensive but it was time to move along the Grand Line.

“We’re leaving after we restock. Why don’t you come aboard with us, just until the next island? I’d love to pick your brain further about anesthesia and dentistry, and we do happen to have other hybrid fishmen on the ship. I can promise you safe voyage,” Law said, sipping his own whiskey. You were considering the offer but something in your gut wasn't quite settled. Still, you would at least be safe on the seas from other pirates given the strength of Law and his crew. 

“I’m not sure, I’ve never sailed with pirates before,” you said, turning your wine glass by the stem. Sailing anywhere was a gamble but when you sailed with merchants you had reason to think they’d want you to get to your destination in one piece since you paid when you arrived at your location.

“Bepo is the first mate and navigator,” Law specified with a grin. “His ears are even fluffier than they look in pictures,” he continued with a nonchalant shrug.

“It’s not fair to use Bepo as a bargaining chip!” you whined with a smile on your face.

“Pirates don’t play fair,” Law rebutted, taking another sip and giving you a smirk. 

“I’ll think about it,” you said, finishing your glass of wine while thinking about Bepo’s ears. 

~

You had a pleasant date with Law that ended with a small kiss at the end of the night. You wanted more but weren’t going to pursue someone who wasn’t that into you. Law seemed to enjoy your conversation and company but wasn’t physically affectionate. You weren’t going to beg for physical affection and it might be better besides since you were thinking of going with them. After a day or so of back and forth conversation with Law, you decided to travel with the Heart Pirates on the Polar Tang.  Law had introduced you to the rest of the crew and you were pleased to see a few more human / fishman hybrids alongside Shachi. On the morning of departure, Jean-Barte was bringing your belongings onto the ship while Law gave you a tour of the facilities. You could see why he made a good captain and why his crew was so loyal - he was steadfast, smart, clever, and had a natural penchant for leadership. 

“Here is the operating theater, you can keep your medical supplies here as well if you wish,” Law said, pointing out a medically equipped room. “We didn’t have to buy as many anesthetics as we usually do now that you’re on board, it’s quite convenient,” Law said with a hum.

“Well, I’m only on the Tang for a short time so you’ll eventually need them again, but I’m happy to provide that service for now,” you hedged. Law smiled at you despite the intense stare he was giving you. 

“Of course, Dentist-ya. Come along, I’ll show you the rest of the Tang,” he said easily. 

A few hours later and you were glued to the sub’s windows as it descended deeper and deeper into the ocean. You’d never seen aquatic life so up close and you were practically vibrating with excitement as you watched fish swim past the windows. You jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Law said, standing behind you, his hand still on your shoulder. His body was right behind yours, you could feel his body heat radiating from his bare chest. Law had a faint scent of lavender and mint that was tantalizing your nose as he stood behind you. There was no doubt that Law was a handsome man and your body wanted his desperately. Still, you had pride and you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move. If Law wanted you, he was going to have to work for it.

“It really is. Thank you for allowing me on your ship, Dr. Trafalgar. Or, should I call you Captain now?” you teased, turning around to face him. You were so near that either one of you could close the distance and kiss the other but you made no such movements. 

“Law is fine,” he replied, raising his arm to rest on the window over your head, leaning down over you. 

“Law it is, then,” you said, raising an eyebrow as if to dare him to make the first move. You should have known that someone with enough mettle to become a Warlord of the Sea would take what he wanted, you thought as Law’s lips captured your own. His muscled arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards his bare chest as he pressed kiss after fevered kiss into your lips. Your hand came up to rest on his pec while the other grabbed at his bicep as he deepened the kiss, his hand wrapping itself in your hair to angle your head to his desire. Law’s tongue brushed against your own as you moaned, reaching a hand into his wavy black hair to pull him closer. You hadn’t been with anyone in a while, maybe since three or four islands back, so even Law’s slightest touch had you excited.

Law pressed you further against the window of the submarine as the light of the sun dimmed while the ship submerged lower into the ocean but you didn’t notice in the slightest. When Law gave you his attention, it was all consuming, you could think of nothing but him. All too soon for your liking, he broke apart from you and rubbed the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. 

“Welcome aboard, Dentist-ya,” he said with a smirk, walking away from you. What the hell was that?

~

Your first trip aboard the Polar Tang was filled with merrymaking, work, and adventure. You were put with Ikakku and Clione in the women’s quarters, the other two pirates pleasant company to chat with before you fell asleep at night. The sub continued to sail underwater and you spent the time you weren’t working watching the sea in front of you. Something intangible within you made you want to reach out and swim in the deep, even if your devil fruit made that not possible.

At dinner on the first night you quickly introduced yourself to Bepo, who wrapped you in a large hug as you mentally ticked a box off your bucket list. He was softer and fluffier than you could have imagined as you rubbed your face into his exposed chest. You would have been embarrassed but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

“I’m so happy to meet you, Bepo! I always see your posters and - well, you’re my favorite pirate!” you said, smiling brightly up at him. The rest of the crew picked up their heads and grumbled, but no one seemed surprised. Bepo returned your smile with a toothy one of his own, his gleaming white teeth making your fingers itch with the desire to check them out. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you too! Captain has been searching for you for years -”

“Bepo,” Law said with a small warning in his tone as he sipped a cup of black coffee and read a newspaper. Bepo was undeterred and continued to babble at you.

“Because he says you’re the best and he only wants his crew to work with the best. It’s a relief to finally have you on board so we can stop collecting intel on you -”

“Bepo,” Law called out again.

“Now that you’ve joined -”

“Bepo.” Law’s voice had lost the chiding tone it had before and was now a Captain’s order. Bepo pouted, his eyes going wide.

“Sorry, Captain. I was just gonna say that she joined us for this trip,” Bepo said with a frown, his lower lip wobbling. Law sighed but returned to reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee. Bepo gave you another small smile as an apology.

“Bepo, if you’d ever like me to look at your teeth, I’d be happy to. I’d have to do some research on polar bear mink teeth but it would be a privilege to work on you. I’ve never had the opportunity to work on a mink before,” you said, putting your hand in his to try and sneakily feel his paw pads. 

“I’d love that! I don’t think I’ve ever been to a real dentist before, Captain has looked every so often but he thinks -”

“Mouths are gross,” you finished with a small laugh. One by one the rest of the crew introduced themselves and you saw the deep, loving dynamic between them. Shachi introduced you to his brother, Penguin, who was clearly also part fishman. You met Hakugan and Ikkaku, the other two women on board, as well as Jean Barte, Uni and Clione. Everyone was friendly and asked you question after question about your life and your work until the meal concluded.

“Penguin, thank you for dinner, I can’t eat another bite,” you said, pushing back the now empty bowl of stew. He smiled with a closed mouth, his eyes obscured by the cap with a penguin on top. Penguin was one of the quieter of the bunch, not getting as rowdy as Shachi or as up in arms as Ikkaku when they were playfully arguing.

“I was hoping that you’d take a look at my teeth in exchange for my North Blue stew. Or pay you with beri, I’ve saved a lot,” he asked in a quiet voice. “Not right now of course, when you’re rested and have time,” he hedged. You noticed he had a practiced way of keeping his teeth obscured when he spoke, nothing you hadn’t seen before in people with fishman genes.

“I’m not all that tired, being underwater is kind of messing with my internal clock anyway. And your Captain isn’t charging me fare to the next island so I won’t charge for dental services,” you said easily, standing with your plate in your hand to take it back to the kitchens. Law really was saving you a ton of money, checking out the teeth of the crew was easy for you to do in exchange.

“Oh, leave that here. Captain will shambles everything when we’re all done,” Penguin said, rising up himself. Intrigued, you put the bowl back down and looked around the room for Law. You’d seen Law use his medical knowledge but hadn’t seen him using his devil fruit power at all yet. You were curious about how it worked and wanted to see it first hand but didn’t feel comfortable walking up and asking him to use it. You didn’t mind when people did the same to you but yours wasn’t as dramatic and interesting as Law’s was. 

You followed Penguin to the operating theater, noting how the chef was adjusting his hat over and over and biting his lips. There wasn’t a dental specific chair in the theater but there was a patient table that could be brought to an upright position. The theater wasn’t anything unique - it had racks of supplies for procedures, reference books, shelves of medications, and other supplies for the minor bumps and aches of the day. Penguin perched on the edge of the chair, adjusting his hat yet again. You saw a box of latex gloves on the table and slipped a pair on. Law’s hands were larger than your own - the gloves were a little saggy on your hands but nothing you couldn’t work with. Making a mental note to ask Law for some gloves in your size, you sat on the stool and scooted closer to Penguin. 

“Would you mind closing the door?” Penguin asked, stiff as he sat back against the chair. You walked to close the door before returning to your patient. He opened his mouth only an inch but you saw enough to know what you were dealing with. Penguin was gripping the handrails tightly with his fingernails ripping into the cushioned pads.

“You don’t need to be nervous, I’ve treated sheepshead fishmen before,” you said with ease, reaching for your explorer. Penguin sagged in the chair like a deflated balloon.

“How’d you know?” he asked, opening his mouth for you just a little further.

“The evenly spaced rows of human like teeth. They’re great for fishmen but there’s not enough room in a human mouth for all of them. I can remove the second row and you should be set but as a warning, some of them may grow back in a few months. They can continually be removed and it should allow you to have more room in your mouth,” you explained while poking and prodding at his teeth. Penguin had rows of human teeth like a normal mouth but  behind it there was another full row of teeth going all the way back towards his molars. It would be like having two sets of teeth in the same mouth set side by side. You didn’t know how he’d dealt with the immense overcrowding for so long.

“You’ve done a fantastic job maintaining your teeth, by the way. Excellent flossing, I can tell,” you said, maintaining a one sided conversation. Penguin couldn’t answer but you didn’t think he would anyway, he probably had a lifetime of shyness to overcome. “You have a lot of scarring, did you already have dental surgery? I’m not sure it was effective, but it looks like it was extensive and painful. By the way, it was a good call to choose Penguin as a nickname over sheepshead. Sheepsheads can be black and white too, right?” you said, poking around the man’s mouth. He grunted to show his agreement.

“Okay, we have a game plan. The procedure will take several hours worth of time, just so you’re aware. I think we should do it tomorrow, that way I’m fresh and so are you. Does that work?” you asked, taking off your gloves. You’d need several hours to take out all of Penguin’s extra teeth and ensure the open sockets didn’t get infected. It was more work than you anticipated, but you didn’t mind helping out a fellow fishman. Penguin nodded his agreement.

“I’ll have time after breakfast and I can ask Jean-Barte to make lunch. Will that be enough -” Penguin didn’t get to finish his sentence before Law appeared in the room, stalking towards you with a scowl.  You took a step back, your legs hitting the stool behind you as Penguin sat upright in the seat. The stool spun and hit the clinic chair as you inhaled sharply.

“What do you think you’re doing to my brother, Dentist-ya?” Law hissed, his palm already raised with fingers lifted. You wanted to see his power but not in a way that had you taking a one way dip into the ocean. Law’s stare didn’t leave your face as your mouth gaped open, unsure what to do or say.

“I’m fine, she’s gonna fix my mouth,” Penguin said softly, putting his hand on your forearm. “She knew what was going on, she’s seen these kinda teeth before,” Penguin explained while getting off the chair. Law huffed but didn’t put his hand down.

“Room. Shambles,” Law said, creating a small blue sphere in his hand as he adjusted the white cap on his head to cover his eyes, much like Penguin. Moments later a paper towel was wafting to the floor where Law had been standing.

“He’s overprotective of the crew, always has been. I had some bad dentists in the past, did some fucked off shit and hurt me bad. Law also doesn’t like when the crew has any kind of medical test of procedure without his knowledge so now he’s embarrassed that he overreacted and room’d himself away back to his quarters. That’s just how he is,” Penguin explained with a small smile. You gave him a watery smile in return, scared by a fraction of the intensity Law would wield in battle. If that was Law’s bad side, you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

You were a little shaken from Law suddenly disappearing from the operating theater but decided to talk it out with him right away. You didn’t like to let bad feelings fester underneath the surface and had always found airing things out made life better for everyone. Bepo led you to the Captain’s quarters at your insistence.

“I’m sorry, Captain’s not in a good mood right now -” Bepo said, raising his palms in a placating gesture.

“If he says he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll leave,” you said calmly, stopping in front of Law’s closed door. Bepo made a whine but left, allowing you to take your chances with the Captain. Taking a deep breath, you knocked twice on the metal. It was night time and the only illumination in the Tang were small lights placed near the floor to help the crew get around at night.

“Bepo, I already told you-”

“It’s not Bepo,” you called out. “It’s me, I want to talk about what happened and apologize,” you said, leaning close to the door. There was no reply as you lingered awkwardly in the cold dark hallway, your ear hovering near the door so you could hear Law.

“Room. Shambles,” was all you heard before you were caught in two strong arms. Law using his fruit powers on your was disorienting and you had a vague headache from the sudden movement and brightness from inside the cabin. You pressed on your temples as Law righted you to standing.

“The headache should go away momentarily, it happens to some people when I shambles them,” Law explained clinically. You grunted but gave yourself a small numbing effect using your left hand to speed up the process.

“That’s better,” you stated, now sitting yourself on the edge of Law’s desk as he sat down in his office chair.

“I didn’t know you could numb yourself,” Law said with mild interest as he steepled his fingers.

“Mmh, handy for when someone shambles me without warning,” you replied. “I’m sorry to bother you, Captain -”

“Law,” he said without taking his eyes off his reading.

“Er, right. I’m sorry to bother you, Law. I wanted to apologize for examining Penguin without your permission. I shouldn’t have acted on my own like that - he’s your crewmate and you’re responsible for his well being, I understand that now. I apologize and I won’t see any of your crew without asking permission first,” you stated, putting your hand over your heart. 

“Hm. I accept your apology,” Law intoned, looking back down at the article on his desk. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I…overreacted,” Law said, the last word so quiet you almost thought you misheard him. “I have a complicated past. I worry a lot about the people I love, that something bad will happen to them if I’m not watching over them all the time,” he said, now flipping a page in the journal he was reading. 

“That must be difficult to feel all the time,” you said, sympathetic to his plight.

“Shachi and Penguin are idiots too, which makes it worse. Last week they tried making a fire -” 

“That’s not so bad -”

“While we were submerged,” Law said, looking you in the eye. You couldn’t help but laugh hearing about the foolishness of the pirates. Law massaged his temples as he continued to read in the low light of the ship. It was quiet for a few moments between you as neither of you rushed to say anything, Law massaging his forehead the whole time.

“Tension headache?” you asked quietly.

“Always.”

You raised your left hand slowly towards his head and gave him a small amount of numbing, equal to a strong round of ibuprofen but that would last longer and act instantly. Law watched you warily the entire time but didn’t stop your motion either.

“There. Feels better already, no?” you asked with a smile. Law blinked a few times and looked around his cabin.

“That is…incredible. I haven’t felt - I always have a permanent headache,” Law lapsed into silence as he took a few breaths and stretched his neck. “Thank you. That was an act of kindness I didn’t deserve,” Law said, looking you in the eyes. You looked back for a few moments but flicked your eyes down to his desk, unable to maintain the intensity of Law’s stare.

“Is that- is that my article from New World Journal of Modern Dentistry ?” you asked, incredulous. Law’s expression didn’t change but you thought you saw a hint of color rising in his cheeks.

“Good night, Dentist-ya” he grunted, still not looking at you. You were shambles to the women’s quarters seconds later, leaving you confused about your interim Captain. 

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[boinday]

The God and The Devil

Just a little folk-gothic about loneliness, the countryside, and keeping a cat. For the spooky season! 1.8k words ^_^ (Copyright Bóín Day 2024)

---------

There's a fire in the garden. Again.

I step outside, careful to close the sliding glass door behind me so Cock Robin can't get out. He prowls the length of the glass with performative indifference, pretending he only follows so far to rub his whiskers against the doorframe. Pretending not to notice the orange flames spitting up into the blue-dark twilight sky.

I take the watering can, already full, from the patio and walk to the center of the garden, where the effigy burns. It is bigger than the last one. About as tall as my knee. I douse it before it catches in the dry summer grass.

Our cottage is in the middle of County Leitrim. In that typical part of Leitrim where nothing really is. I bought it because I could afford it, derelict and rotting as it was, surrounded by a sea of disused fields, twenty kilometers from the nearest shop. It still cost more than my parents' first home; a restored Victorian townhouse purchased in the eighties. I do what I can with the cottage. Funnel all my earnings into making it habitable. Close off the rooms that drive me into despair. I think I got Cock Robin because I was lonely. Or because he was lonely. I can't remember which.

I remember I found him quite endearing at the shelter, though. He is a peculiar shade of brown for a cat – almost chocolatey – with a striking ginger breast by contrast. His eyes are yellow, and suspicious. He's large and fat, and maligned by a snaggletooth that gives him a permanent sneer. Despite his unfortunate face, he is docile, cuddly, and a formidable companion. I don't blame him completely for what's happened, though he must think I do. Why else would he be confined to the house, he thinks. Why else would his dear mother jail him.

Cock Robin, for all his lazy mornings and babyish ways, is a talented and voracious hunter. I never exactly approved of him catching mice, but I suppose I tacitly endorsed it by allowing him outside, into the fields where he was undoubtedly the apex predator. At first I would only find pieces of the mice: a half body, a dismembered foot, an internal organ licked clean of blood.

But as Cock Robin acclimatised to the good life of being a kept cat, and gradually grew rounder from tinned tuna and cold cuts of chicken, he must have grown bored with the taste of mice. Because more and more often, he would bring them home alive.

He would bring them home alive, and with them stunned and confused between his careful teeth, he would howl for my attention. Once I would rise from whatever task I was at, he would wait for me to approach, present his quarry, and kill it in front of me. People say this is a cat's way of teaching hapless humans how to hunt, and perhaps they are right. But from the way Cock Robin would proudly deposit the poor creature on the step, whole but for the killing wounds, and bounce along to the cupboard where he knows I keep his treats, I think this ritual is more akin to a crude, kitty capitalism.

'I have rendered you the service for which our two species coexist,' Cock Robin says with his closed eyes and loud purr. 'Now I shall collect my fee.'

I don't like to watch things die. Even spiders, which I hate, I can't bring myself to kill. Even indoor plants, which are a chore to keep, I endeavour to save from my own habitual neglect. And now even mice, already trapped in the jaws of death, I am compelled by my conscience to rescue. Cock Robin objects to my charity, but he is stupid enough to trust my approach whenever he has some poor living thing in his maw, and once I am close enough, I grab him. Sometimes he drops them instinctively when he hears my stern demands, and sometimes I must pry his mouth open, but he always gives up without much fight.

The difficulty then is re-catching the mouse. I keep gardening gloves by the sliding door for this task, now. If they are sufficiently traumatized, I can simply scoop them up, walk to one of the neighbouring fields, and gently release them into the long grass. If they are lucid, though, they jump away; run, climb, scramble for their life. Those times are harder – especially if Cock Robin is still in the room. But I always catch them. Once they're out of his teeth, I find a way to cup them, grab them, cradle them. Out they go to the fields. Alive to survive another day.

I must have caught at least a dozen mice when the first gift appeared. I didn't know it was a gift then, of course. It was four raspberries, piled together on the doormat. I'm sure I thought it was odd at the time, but I simply picked them up and set them on a fence-post for the birds.

A few days later there were twenty raspberries. A whole punnet's worth. I certainly thought that was odd, and it ignited some paranoia in me. There are no other houses in sight of my cottage, only fields. Not even cattle graze there, so there is little cause for anyone to come out as far as my place on the quiet country road. I fretted about axe wielding maniacs, countryside bandits, the sort of nightmarish characters you might hear about on a True Crime podcast. Of course, as far as threats go, raspberries are a tame and obscure one. Hardly worth calling the Gards over. I think I mentioned it to some friends, and they laughed like I was crazy. I think I laughed too. I didn't want to be crazy.

The raspberries continued to appear for weeks, sometimes with a whole apple rolled into the mix, sometimes ornately arranged among picked daisies and buttercups. I tried to ignore them. Hoped if they rotted on the step, that would send a message. But the damaged, old raspberries were removed in the night, and replenished with fresh ones by morning.

At a certain point, I decided it was best to just wait up. I drank three cups of coffee and, with heart pounding and carving knife in hand, sat in the perfect dark of my kitchen, and waited.

It was just before dawn when I saw them. I'd imagined every manner of strange or dangerous person, - I'd spent the night staring at the middle of the glass door, the height you would expect a person to stand - and so I almost missed them. The tiny, moving bumps of darkness scuttling along the ground towards the door. It looked like the patio stones had come to life, and were rippling towards the cottage in little waves.

I stood and approached. Quite a stupid thing to do, in retrospect, but I did it anyway. I could see them in their droves: hundreds of mice removing the old, imperfect fruit and rolling in the new. Some of them carried the flowers in teams of two or three. I crouched slowly by the glass door, enraptured by their industrious energy. By the sophistication of the endeavour.

One of them must have noticed me, and the noticing spread, because almost instantly the bustling and bumbling little bodies went still. I went still as well. It was relatively dark out, the sky just lightening to a gloomy blue, but I could tell they were looking at me. Then, in another wave of collective movement, their bodies stretched upward – stretched towards the heavens, tiny front paws raised above their mousey heads – and then fell down again. Prostrating themselves on the ground.

I watched the motion repeat several times, paws stretching skyward, then falling back down, before I realised I was watching some strange, cultish worship. They were bowing to me. They were bowing to me.

I ran away, as any rational person would. I closed myself into my bedroom with Cock Robin, who was sleeping none the wiser. And I thought about how truly impossible it is to keep a mouse out of your home, if the mouse has a mind to get in.

It was the following week that Cock Robin was attacked. He came in from the fields, mewling in a pitiful manner I'd never heard from him before. There was a piece of wood lodged in his right eye, about as big as a toothpick. I rushed him to the vet. They couldn't save the eye. An unfortunate accident, they supposed. A mishap while Cock Robin was climbing through a hedge. We agreed he ought to be an indoor cat from then on.

Now they've taken a liking to effigies.

I kick through the smoldering remains of this latest one. Their understanding of human proportions has certainly improved. I see they've stitched leaves together with plant fiber and bug silk to simulate clothing. I wonder how they learned to light the wood. I wonder if this is what we looked like, too, when man discovered fire.

I look up the length of the garden to my rotten little cottage. Cock Robin is sitting politely behind the glass door, watching me through his surviving eye, tail ticking away in simmering upset. He wants to be out here, I know. He wants to exercise his divine wrath.

I wonder, as well, how they make sense of us. It seems impossible to me, that they cannot know how dearly I love Cock Robin. How I infinitely prefer him to any little mouse, no matter what mercy my conscience mandates. How he sleeps beside me, inside the cottage that is so alien and fortified compared to the world of empty fields around it. I suppose it is a contradiction inherent, that they should give me tribute while reviling the cat I openly adore.

I suppose that even God adored Lucifer, once.

I stomp out the last of the embers and wriggle my phone out of my pocket. I've been photographing these things, for posterity – not that anyone would believe them. It would be written off as some natural phenomenon, or AI fakery, or perhaps they'd simply say I'm lying. I photograph it anyway.

Trudging back towards my cottage, I turn on the phone's flashlight. This is a newly formed habit. I hold the light above my head and sweep it over the neighbouring field, in an arc. Tiny pinpricks of light glow back at me. An ocean of beady eyes, watching in the darkness.

I shout at them to go away, please. I say that I have nothing for them, and thank them for their worship but I'd really rather they just move on. There's no response. There never is. They cannot understand my prayers. I am too huge and powerful to be understood. But still, I pray.

[chirrups]

I feel like I have nothing to ask, I simply would love to hear more about them fucked up mermaid and murderer

And I would absolutely love to tell you about them, Tin.

This AU takes place somewhere vaguely in the Pacific Northwest (circa. 1970s-80s) in an isolated fishing town along a storm-wracked coast.

Fisheries in and around the bay have collapsed due to extreme winter weather patterns + overfishing + an oil spill from a tanker run aground down the coast, leaving most of the bay's inhabitants to live pretty much hand-to-mouth off contaminated fish in recent years.

get ready for LORE (and more drawings but mostly the LORE)

general warning: this is pretty long

The "story" as it were, kicks off when Gem finally gets fed up with another fisherman in the area, Grian, over continued conflict about ownership of fishing grounds in the mouth of the bay.

She orchestrates his death (with the eager assistance of Scott and Impulse) out at sea and passes off his death as a tragic accident in the winter swells with her being the unfortunate finder of his remains.

And it works.

See the thing is: Gem has a history of causing disappearances. It started with some accidents with out-of-town poachers. She would chase these people off and one or two would just slip overboard and happen to drown. It wasn’t her fault and besides they deserve it. But things start to escalate from there. Poachers become outsiders become fellow townspeople. Grian is someone Gem’s known for years, whose friends are tangentially her friends or acquaintances. His death is a cold-blooded murder driven by hatred and frustration. This time something is different about what she's done and Gem knows it.

But Gem is a reputable and well-known person. Her prices are fair, she drives poachers out of the bay and maintains order around the pragmatic fishing ground policy that undoubtedly helps everyone to survive.

She is the type of person to look to for guidance when things get hard because she can make those hard choices. So how on earth could it be her fault?

No one is wiser until Grian's funeral brings an old friend into town who is more than a little suspicious about the circumstances of his death.

Scar was one of Grian's crewmates when they did trawling much further south. They split when Scar took up (illegal) whaling and Grian moved into the bay.

As an outsider, Scar isn't so swayed by the goodwill the town has around Gem's name. He's no detective but for the sake of an old friend, he might as well try.

In this AU, mermaids are social mammals part of the Hominidae family that went back into the ocean similar to Cetaceans. They live in matrilineal family groups or in any other female-led organization of pods and have a very "survival-oriented" global culture (with regional variation).

Pearl is a lone mermaid whose pod lived in the bay until they were starved out by the collapsing fisheries. PNW mermaids are more territorial than other ecotypes and value strength over anything else. Pearl's inability (read: unwillingness) to oust other pods for better fishing grounds and the loss of one of her pod members summarily lead the other two to abandon her.

Without a pod to help her, hunting enough in her dwindling territory has been difficult and lonely, leading her to slowly starve just as the humans in the bay have begun to.

She took to trailing fishing boats to steal from their catch, which is how she met Gem who was mid-throwing some unfortunate soul overboard.

They have an interesting relationship.

Gem is enamored with Pearl at the halfway point between a person and a large apex predator. She loves the way Pearl needs her to live and the way Pearl, as a social creature with no pod, craves her attention. It's thrilling to have a predator at her beck and call like this and, in turn, to be so desperately needed. She also loves the way Pearl doesn't look at her like she's dangerous (the way Scott and Impulse have begun to when they think she doesn't see them). Her interest in Pearl seems to be leaching into something more than just wildlife admiration. She's begun to learn the mermaid language just to talk to her. For what? Who really knows. Meanwhile, Pearl is hungry enough to eat just about anything Gem throws her (including human bodies) and desperate enough that she lets Gem get much closer than many humans in this area have ever been to a mermaid. (They even touch, scandalous for mermaids.)

It's skewed for sure. From Gem's perspective, they've got something special going on. From Pearl's... not so much.

This being Secret-Life based, you can imagine how this story ends...

Bonus piece: Pearl and her old pod.

IN GENERAL, Biological females are generally larger with a set of rotated tusks protruding from their lower jaw for dominance displays. Biological males are commonly smaller and more agile, with more dexterous hands due to decreased adipose tissue distribution over their bodies. (They actually have 3 biological sexes and tons of social gender variation but that's a talk for another time). Pre-cultural awakening, these pods would form around a biological female and their harem for reproductive purposes. That female would then protect the harem from other females looking to "steal them" or their territories (like horses but reverse-style). In modern times, these pods are often composed of groups of friends/related family members as sort of "platonic life partners" and stealing other pod members is seen as a very archaic sort of thing. Territory stealing, however, is still up for grabs.

[muletia]

What kind of sea creatures would the autobots and decepticons be?

Hehe I'm gonna get so unoriginal with these

I picked Mers species based on vibes, not size. Also, don’t take this as a finalized version, just some loose ideas. I’ll probably change my mind in, like, half an hour lmao

Optimus – Classic choice: blue whale. Friendly and gentle towards humans. Also highly emotionally and socially developed. imo, it fits him perfectly.

Ratchet – My heart wants to say clownfish, but maybe a sea lion or a walrus? They do look kinda grumpy

Arcee – Sea otter. Small, looks cute, but feisty and can be aggressive.

Smokescreen/Bumblebee – Sea puppies <3

Bulkhead – Manatee/sea turtle.

Megatron – He’s usually depicted as a shark, but hear me out… leopard seal. Mostly because those bastards are terrifying, aggressive, and vicious. Plus, they’re apex predators.

Sheesh…

Starscream/Seekers – Sailfish, mainly because of their slender build and the fact that they’re the fastest fish in the world

Soundwave – Hmmm, depends on the continuity. TFP Soundwave is doomed to be an actopus because of his tentacles, and the rest could be stingrays?

Shockwave – Jellyfish

Knockout – Lionfish. Beautiful, but touching him won’t end well.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: blacktip reef shark

Yesterday, I released a joke Wet Beast Wednesday for April Fools where I treated the Blåhaj as if it was a real shark. Today I think I want to cover an actual shark and have settled on the blacktip reef shark. These sharks are a common sight in coral reefs of the Pacific and Indian oceans, but their future is in question as climate change and overfishing take their toll.

(Image: a blacktip reef shark from the side, swimming through an artificial reef. It has the classic shark shape and black tips on its fins. End ID)

The blacktip reef shark (Carcharhinus melanopterus) should not be confused with the visually similar blacktip shark (Carcharhinus limbatus). It is one of the live-bearing requiem sharks and as such, possesses the classic shark shape. Most reach a maximum length of 1.6 meters (5.2 ft), but larger specimens have been reported. The name comes from the black spots at the tips of the fins. Of said fins, the pectorals are slightly sickle shaped and the second dorsal fin is larger than typical for a shark. The snout is broad and the mouth is on the underside. As with other sharks, the teeth grow in a conveyor belt fashion, with multiple rows. As the teeth in the front wear out and are lost, teeth from the rear rows will move forward to take their place.

(Image: a backtip reef shark swimming above a coral reef. End ID)

Blacktip reef sharks are found in warm, shallow water throughout the Indian and Pacific Oceans. They frequent coral reefs and seagrass beds, but can also be found in estuaries and occasionally swim up rivers. Blacktips will stick to relatively small areas they patrol for food and frequently return to, a trait called site fidelity. The home range of blacktips off of Palmyra Island averaged 0.55 square km (0.21 square mi), which is one of the smallest ranges of any shark species that keep them. The sharks often share reefs with grey reef sharks and whitetip reef sharks, but the later two prefer deeper water while blacktips frequent water so shallow their dorsal fins often stick out of the water. They are known to surpass obstacles like corals by jumping out of the water to leap over them. Blacktips may be solitary or travel and hunt in small groups. They will leave their home range if they detect food, but will return afterwards.

(Image: a group of blacktip reef sharks swimming in the same direction over a coral reef. Other fish species are also visible. End ID)

Adult blacktip reef sharks are apex predators who hunt small fish, with invertebrates, smaller sharks and rays,, seabirds, sea snakes, and carrion being less common. Inspection of stomach contents has also found algae and seagrass, though its not clear if they can actually digest plant material as Bonnethead sharks can, or if these were incidentally swallowed while the shark was eating other food. Blacktips have been seen working together to herd schools of fish into shallow water where they are more easily picked off. Blacktips grow more confident and aggressive when there are other members of their species present. While rare, blacktips have been known to engage in feeding frenzies when enough of them are in the same space hunting for the same food. They are attracted by blood and the sound of splashing. As with other sharks, they can sense the electric fields of other animals and use this to hunt.

(Image: a blacktip reef shark swimming near the camera. End ID)

Blacktip reef sharks mate during summer. The frequency of mating is driven by food availability and temperature. Those living in warm water with plenty of food can mate twice a year whole those living in colder, more competitive water may only mate every other year. When ready to mate, the female will swim back and forth with her head pointed down. She likely releases a chemical signature while doing this to attract males. When a male arrives, he will follow her for a while, mimicking her behavior. He may also bit her on the pectoral fin or behind the gills, which often leaves scars. After swimming together, the male pushes the female so she is on her side, with her head pointed down. He then inserts a clasper into her cloaca and spends several minutes sending her sperm. Once mating is over, the two part and return to their normal activities. Gestation lasts 7-9 months in warmer water and 10-11 months in colder water. Females have two uteruses, into which she deposits egg cases containing the developing embryo and its yolk sac. As gestation progresses, the egg case attaches to the uterus and forms a placental connection that continues to feed the embryo even after the yolk is depleted. Females give birth to 2-5 pups measuring between 33 and 50 cm (13-20 in) in shallow areas of the reef. Juveniles live together in large groups in very shallow water and gradually move to deeper water as they grow.

(Image: a group of several juvenile blacktip reef sharks. They look like smaller versions of the adults and are swimming in water just barely deep enough to cover them. End ID)

Blacktip reef sharks are classified as vulnerable to extinction by the IUCN. They are threatened by overfishing and habitat loss. While not commercially hunted, blacktips are locally hunted for their meat, fins, and liver oil. They also rely on coral reefs, which are negatively affected by climate change and pollution. Blacktips are considered potentially dangerous to humans, though there are no fatal attacks on record. Most attacks appear to be the result of mistaken identity, as a shark confuses a wader's feet or someone's hand for food. Swimming is considered safer than wading in blacktip territory as they are much less likely to mistake a whole person for food as they are someone's feet. Blacktips are curious and have been reported coming to examine divers and swimmers. However, they are also easily frightened and will avoid people if scared.

(Image: a juvenile blacktip reef shark swimming next to a wading person. The person has their hand in the water next to the shark to show its scale. It is roughly two hands long. End ID)

[naffeclipse]

Little Chicks

Penguin!Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

I'm so excited to share this fic! The lovely @pluck-heartstrings requested a continuation of Cardinal Instincts with a mix of fluff and typical Orca Eclipse with some angst/backstory for the harpy reader! I also enjoy writing baby sirens Sun and Moon as well <3

Content Warning for mentions of death and angst.

———

Tiny flukes flip along the ocean’s surface. You watch the siren young closely, perched on the edge of the ice with your winged arms folded tightly against you. Though you’ve grown used to how the orca siren tests the babes’ abilities, your heart flutters nonetheless whenever one sinks a little too deep below the surface without acquiring a deep enough breath and you must swallow back a squawk of fear when the other gives anxious, tired chirps after swimming for a moment too long.

But Eclipse is there, scooping the little ones into his hands, and if they refuse to calm, he presses them into your lap and allows the familiar, comforting touch of your plumage to soothe them.

Your siren young, you remember. Emotion thickens in your throat as Sun flips his tail, flashing cream and golden colors. The orca siren child struggles across the shallow water in the half-submerged alcove. Moon’s teeth gnash together as he whines. Eclipse chirrs gently, encouraging the children as if they were of his own blood. It still surprises you that they are not, with their eyes each containing at least one yellow or scarlet hue. The brothers share a blue color to their gaze, however, and confirm that they are twins.

The icy alcove sheltering them from the harsher, direct light outside is comfortable. Though it’s far from your natural habitat of flat icy plains with plenty of diving holes into the water, you’ve dared to settle into this home.

Eclipse courts you still, and though you both share the work of caring for the siren young, he makes it clear with a flash of his hungry eyes that you are the only mate for him. The only one who will raise Sun and Moon with him.

You watch him now, while the boys occupy his attention. His sleek, black and white form dipped in deep red and dark orange is lethal in every capacity. He is the apex predator of the seas. His body is lithe with toned, sleek muscle. His jaws split wide into a maw full of shark-like teeth. Yet, his claws curl carefully over Moon while he lifts him back to the surface, and the soft sounds of the babe’s sputtering pull your muscles taut, insisting you dive after the babe. 

An instinct within understands how easily Eclipse’s natural weapons can turn on you, could rip you apart to feed his young, but then Sun is squeaking in anger. Eclipse turns to him quickly. He rumbles a soothing hum while holding Moon in the crook of his arm and gathering Sun in his other hand. His gentleness is always at the ready for his adoptive children. Your heart softens.

The siren lifts his eyes to you. In the light that refracts from the ocean surface and icy walls, his gaze glows brighter, hungrier. A shiver falls down your spine. How naturally your body remembers your place in the food chain. He closes the distance. His dorsal fin arches high behind him while strong, smooth motions of his tail push him until he’s looming over you on the shelf of ice you reside on.

A pulse starts in your throat. You gaze up at him, small and easily devoured, but he leans closer to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. The thick feathers covering your body ruffle under his persistent touch. A soft squawk escapes your mouth at the graze of his teeth over your sensitive, vulnerable throat.

“Sun and Moon must be getting hungry,” you breathe, fighting the heat that longs to stain your fluffy cheeks.

“They’ve worked up an appetite,” he agrees over the sharp squeaks and chirps of their demands. “They’re getting stronger.”

And hungrier, you note. Eclipse has been a provider, killing and retrieving meals of squid and other soft meat for the boys to tear apart with their nubby teeth. Eclipse explained to you once that these milk teeth will fall out once the boys have grown enough and will be replaced by sharper, more capable incisors. 

It might have scared other harpies like yourself to know these children who depend on you for food and warmth will soon become as capable and dangerous as Eclipse, but only a swell of pride fills you with the thought. They will become strong. They will thrive and no one will ever harm them. A gentle need to watch them flourish propels you to open your arms.

“When will you hunt for food?” you ask softly. Your dainty clawed fingers brush gently against the squirming, wet forms of Sun and Moon held in the crook of Eclipse’s arms.

A low grumble, deep and chilling, rolls through the orca siren and into you. You still when this jaws nears your lips. The press of his forceful kiss pushes you back slightly, and you give an indignant squeak under his mouth, tasting you like he may or may not sample the flesh hidden under your feathers.

“I’ll go now, birdie,” he murmurs. “I won’t keep Sun and Moon hungry. Wait here for me.”

He draws back to capture your gaze with his own. The intensity of his eyes, one red, one yellow, pierces you with the strength of the sun. A desire to look away, to shrink from underneath his power nearly takes you, but he growls softly.

“Be good, birdie.”

“I will,” you answer, then immediately flush. 

He nods smugly then presses a kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes though you are no less attuned to the sharp squeaks of protest of being slightly squashed between yours and his exchanges of fondness.

“Eclipse,” you mumble against his mouth, “The babies.”

A chortle escapes from his wicked jaws as he parts from you. At least, he eases Moon then Sun into your arms. The most natural embrace overtakes you as you cradle the precious siren young, though they are steadily growing, becoming just a little bigger for your arms than a regular chick might have been. It doesn’t matter to you. They are slick, warm, and safe.

Sun chirps soften into babbling chatter, his wide eyes beautiful and bright. On your other arm, Moon turns against your chest. His little nubby fingers grasp your feathers, clenching and unclenching, as his mouth roams for milk he will not find here.

“It’s alright, little chicks,” you coo at your children. “Your bellies will be filled shortly.”

You spare a glance at Eclipse, prodding him with a look but he lingers on the edge of the ice shelf. You lift your head, curious.

“They’re hungry,” you remind.

“I know, birdie.” His gaze slips into something like snowmelt as if he finds you simply adorable. “You’re beautiful. I simply had to admire how you take care of them.”

Your mouth opens but silence tumbles out. 

He flashes a wicked grin to your dismay. Pushing off of the ice shelf, the orca siren dives out of the alcove and leaves you simmering with pink heat. Your words fail on your tongue, but there is little you can say to the orca siren who has decided to make you his.

You are unable to resist sinking softly in the after waves of his boldness and courting gestures. A small pile of beautiful stones and gems has piled in the far corner of the ice shelf. Tokens of his love. Each beautiful pebble made you believe he couldn’t find a better one, and each time, he has proven you wrong. 

Pebbles are for building nests for a chick. To accept a pebble is to build towards a future, to prepare for the young that will come once two penguin harpies agree to be mates.

You press the memory of a small nest and a tiny, new life away from your thoughts. A nibble along your fingers draws your attention. Gazing down at Moon gnawing his nubby teeth along your hand, you smile. You gently free your fingers and stroke his head, sliding along the deep midnight blue appendage that falls down his head. The small bulb at the end is frilly and yellow. 

“Oh, my darling,” you murmur in a soft voice. You slip back along the ice shelf, waddling carefully to not slip with the babes in your arms before gently rearranging them to rest in your lap. Wrapping your winged arms around them, they will stay warm.

A sharp squeak turns your head towards Sun. Hunger rips through him loud and clear. You laugh gently as he begins wiggling, impatiently and restlessly. His sharp, golden, and white gold fins crowning his head twist importantly with the jerks of his head.

“I know, my love, I know,” you softly cup his cheek and pull him closer to your chest, holding him to keep him from slipping away. “Your father is getting you squid. Patience, Sun.”

The high-pitched demanding chirp that falls from him squeezes your heart. He is far too loud, too excited, and you laugh. Softly taking Moon against you as well, you lean back against the alcove wall and try to hum. They adore when Eclipse sings to them, but his vocal cords are powerful and entwined with magic. Yours are too strained and, in a word, unfit for a lullaby. The best you can give them is your warmth and protection. 

Your adoptive children.

Your mind drifts to a distant echo of sharp chirps. Insistent, hungry, and then, silent. 

A slow collapse shuts away your throat. Your hum cuts short.

The memory takes you like an ocean wave, pushing you down, deeper and deeper until you can no longer breathe.

Your chick was so small. He was beautiful. He chirped fiercely. Then he did not make a sound at all.

Shoulders heaving, your breath becomes ragged. It scrapes out of your throat. Your chest tightens. Tiny bodies squirm in your arms, little fingers sinking into your plumage and grip tightly, demanding attention, but your vision is far, far away, lost on an empty ice plain dusted in snow.

You held your little chick in your arms. He didn’t move. Your mate told you to let him go.

You couldn’t. You didn’t, not until your mate pried him from your hands and forced you to leave him, to let the snow bury him and the ice creep over him until he was cradled in the Antarctic cold forever. He has to be warm. You were keeping him warm.

What did you do wrong?

No one answered. 

A splash echoes in the distance. Wiggling bodies attempt to crawl away from you, eager chirps filling the air, but your vision is blurred over ice and water. A deep, abysmal voice calls out. You don’t answer.

You hold tighter to Sun and Moon, clinging to them. Their tiny voices grow louder as they fill with hunger. 

Another wash of water echoes throughout the alcove, and then a shadow looms over you. Something wet splats just a few inches onto the ice shelf. Then, a low rumble and claws crack the ice, dragging over the uneven terrain.

A hand falls on your shoulder. Claws threaten to sink into your flesh.

“Birdie, what’s wrong?”

A gasp wretches from you. You blink, staring up at the looming orca siren. His eyes blaze, searching for threats and wounds, but only finding you unlocking your fierce grip from Sun and Moon. The babies gleefully slip away from you. Their wiggling tails flip and flap, and Eclipse watches them carefully before pinning you with his stare again.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he demands, growling with an abysmal darkness.

“No,” you gasp, “No, the babies—they need to eat.”

Eclipse hovers. When did he pull himself onto the ice? His tail sweeps along the cold terrain, his flukes curling to form a barrier between you and the water. You want to shrink. You want to bow your head and swim away—it wouldn’t be so different from when the colony decided you couldn’t stay any longer. 

A mush pile of chomped squid lies near Eclipse’s side fin. The siren young cry out. Slowly, Eclipse takes Moon, then Sun, setting them down by the food so they can begin tearing the soft flesh apart in their young moths. Securing them in the bow of his tail, he turns back to you.

“Birdie, tell me what is going on. I will make it right.” His clawed hands cup your face. You want to fall back, push him away until you can escape.

You can’t leave. Even wandering, you were trapped with what you’ve done.

Fear and shame form into a fine, frozen layer within you. You can’t look at Eclipse. His hand insists, pushing you by the chin until you're locked under his gaze again. 

“Be good, birdie. Tell me so I might rip apart whatever is causing you such pain,” he insists, snarling just under his breath. You tremble and touch his arm.

“I,” you gasp and it wheezes through you. Your throat closes up. You look once to Sun and Moon devouring their meal, unaware of their harpy parent dissolving into sea foam. “I was driven from my colony.” 

Something snaps within you. A great and terrible acceptance. A truth so ugly and rotten, you have no hope of holding its broken bones.

Eclipse’s jaw slackens. Teeth no longer bared, he slowly tilts his head.

“Why?” his eyes narrow.

He’ll know now you are unfit. He won’t have you raising his babies. You won’t hold Sun and Moon again.

You close your eyes and whisper, “I tried to steal another’s chick.”

Eclipse’s thumb slowly brushes along the fluff covering your cheek. 

“Go on,” he says in a shockingly gentle and low voice, as if you needed a lullaby in the dark of night, “Tell me, birdie. It’s alright.”

You quake. Opening your eyes slowly, you are filled with Eclipse’s soft gaze. His attention is fierce, ever sharp, but when he holds you, everything else falls to the wayside. 

A rattling breath fills your lungs.

“My baby,” your voice cracks. Eclipse’s gaze widens. “My poor baby died. He was so small… I don’t know why.”

“Such things can happen,” he says so firmly, you long to believe him, “It’s not kind, but little ones simply don’t endure by no fault of their own nor yours.”

“Eclipse, wait,” you grasp onto him tighter. He is your last island in the sea of your grief. He doesn’t understand.

“What of your mate?” he asks instead, his teeth glint.

“He left me,” you say quietly. A fact you have accepted long ago. Whenever you looked at him, you only felt the same grief again. “After my—our chick died, he left.”

Eclipse dips his head in the slightest, not exactly pleased, but reassured, in some way. You don’t know what to make of his expression.

“Then what became of you?” he asks in his growling cords.

You quake. 

“I don’t know why I did it. I just couldn’t stand it. Everyone with their chicks, hearing their little cries. I was alone,” you pull in a breathless gasp, “I didn’t stop myself. One little chick was unattended, for just a moment. Her mother was looking away. I wasn’t thinking at all. I just did it—I swooped in and stole the babe.”

Eclipse rumbles deep within his chest. You glance anxiously at Sun and Moon. Sounds escape Sun even as he chews vigorously. Moon is quiet, slurping down a tentacle. Eclipse draws a black-bone claw down your cheek, returning your attention to him.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

“I tried to feed her, but she refused to take any food from my mouth.” A strained sound, like a sob, escapes your throat. Eclipse hushes you softly, stroking the back of your feathered head. “She was crying—I told her I was her momma but she wouldn’t stop.”

The tiny babe was not your own, though just as small and hungry and fierce. The chirps were just a little off. They weren’t your babe’s.

Your heart twists. How could you ever have your little chick back? How could you try and replace one by taking from another? You were selfish and mad. You were trying to force another mother to go through what you just had.

“She wasn’t yours,” Eclipse answers simply, as if he might understand wanting something so terribly, and doing awful things to have it, but not being able to keep it.

You hold his gaze, wetness blurring your vision.

“It was cruel of me.” You shudder again. “They caught me. The colony decided I could no longer be a part of them. They sent me away. I could never return.”

Eclipse is silent for several heartbeats. You sit, heavy with shame and grief. His flukes brush against the little ones eating. A small complaint of being bothered during their meal rises in a sharp squeak. You glance over them, wishing to pull Sun and Moon into your arms again. What if you can never hold them again?

“That’s why you were waddling alone.” Eclipse sweeps a claw down your temple, almost touching your eye. Your eyelids flutter, and a great fear takes over you. Does he not want you anymore? Has he decided you will make a better meal than a parent?

“I still don’t know why I did it,” you mumble. You felt mad. You still feel unstable with loss and emptiness. You could only take and take to try and fill up the gaping place left within you. The baby you love so dearly was gone without a whimper.

And now two little sirens need your care. They are so beautiful and precious. Your heart bobs within you for longing to tend to them.

“You wanted your child back,” Eclipse hums. Your eyes lift to him, stained with tears. “You love your child. Now you have two little ones who need you. And you have been a beautiful mother to them.”

Stunned into silence, you blink. “You… you still want me?”

Eclipse chortles, looking at you as if you were simply precious.

“I have already chosen you as my mate. I have witnessed how tenderly you tend to Sun and Moon. I will have no one else but you, birdie.” He leans in and kisses your tear-wet cheeks. Your feathers ruffle underneath his affection. “Breathe, and when you are ready, you will hold our children again.”

Our children.

You cling tightly to Eclipse for one moment. His eyes widen. Leaning up, you lay a kiss on the corner of his mouth and smear salty tears on his maw unwittingly. You hope he doesn’t mind. All the while, he holds very, very still.

“They’re my little chicks,” you whisper.

“They are,” he rasps softly. Eclipse holds you until the Sun and Moon finish eating. Their cries of attention are answered as the orca siren scoops them up, one by one, and places them in your arms.

Your family.

[vampmallow]

Morning Surprise

Leon Kennedy x Afab!Reader

Cw: NSFW, Oral F receiving, Shower Sex.

The alarm clock's persistent beeping was the only sound in the room, piercing the early morning silence like an unwelcome intrusion. The curtains remained drawn, the ever-slowly rising sun's gentle glow hinting at its impending arrival. You stirred, groaning softly as you reached out to silence the annoying device, your hand fumbling through the sea of pillows and empty space beside you. The bed felt cold, starkly contrasting with the warmth that usually lingered in your partner's presence.

As your eyes slowly adjusted to the early morning, you felt a tender kiss on your neck, followed by the brush of a hand across your thigh. You froze, the realization sinking in that Leon had returned from his night shift and had decided on a more intimate way to wake you up. His breath was warm and lingered on your chest before he ducked back down. A low chuckle vibrated against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to give away your pleasure.

With the grace of a predator, Leon slithered further down the bed, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The anticipation was almost unbearable as his hands traced the contours of your body, his fingers dancing over your waist and hips before reaching the apex of your thighs. He pushed the blanket aside, the cool air kissing your skin as it was exposed to the early morning chill. You felt the soft press of his lips against your inner thigh, his unintentionally grown-out stubble a pleasant abrasion that had you gripping the sheets.

The first touch of his tongue was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. You held your breath, willing yourself not to make a sound. His movements grew more confident, his tongue exploring and teasing with a skill that made it clear he wasn't new to this. He took his time, savoring every inch of you, his teeth grazing your clit just enough to make you squirm. His tongue made quick trips in and out of you, lapping up your liquids every time. The tension grew, tightening like a coil ready to snap.

Leon's hands cupped your ass, holding you in place as he licked and nibbled with increasing fervor. The pressure built, your muscles tensed, and you could feel the heat pooling between your legs. The room was silent except for the sound of your quiet gasps and the wetness of his mouth against your skin. The world outside had ceased to exist, replaced by the sensation of his tongue flicking against your clit, the steady rhythm of his fingers now sliding in and out of you, and the warmth of his breath as he murmured sweet nothings that only served to fan the flames of your desire.

You were so close, the edge of orgasm just within reach, when Leon abruptly stopped. He chuckled again, low and deep, as he pulled away, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. "Good morning," he whispered, his voice a dark rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Time to wake up properly." He kissed you softly on the cheek before getting out of bed, leaving you to watch the play of muscles across his back as he stretched and moved towards the bathroom. The smell of his cologne lingered in the air, a potent reminder of his presence as you lay there, utterly spent and desperate for more.

The sound of the shower starting was your cue. You pushed the blankets aside and followed him, the cool floorboards a shock to your bare feet. The bathroom was filled with steam, the mirrors fogging up from the hot water. Leon was already under the spray, the water sluicing over his body, turning his skin a rosy pink. He turned to face you, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he held out a hand. "Care to join me?"

Without a word, you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over you, mingling with the chill from the room. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and he kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the motions from moments before. You could taste yourself on his lips, a heady mix of desire and need that only made you want him more. His hands roamed over your body, soaping up your skin, his calloused palms leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

As the water rained down on you both, Leon turned you around, pressing you against the tiles. He bent you over slightly, the heat of his body enveloping you from behind. His hands slid down your body to grip your hips, his breath hot against your ear. "Ready for round two?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. You nodded, unable to form words as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, filling you completely, the sensation making you gasp. He didn't stop there, moving in a steady rhythm that had you panting and begging for more. The water pounded against your skin as he claimed you, the steam wrapping around you like a cocoon of passion. Each thrust was punctuated by the slap of skin on skin, the sound echoing in the small space. Your hands grasped at the tiles, your nails digging in as you tried to hold on, your body moving in sync with his.

The water grew warmer as the minutes ticked by, the steam thickening until it was hard to breathe. But you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Leon inside you, the way he made your body come alive with every stroke. The tension grew again, coiling tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold back any longer. You screamed out his name as you came, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. He followed shortly after, his grip on your hips tightening as he found his own release.

When it was over, you leaned against him, your chests heaving with exertion. The water continued to cascade over you, washing away the sweat and the evidence of your passion. Leon kissed the back of your neck, his breathing ragged. "Best way to start the day," he murmured. And as you looked into the mirror, flushed and satisfied, you couldn't help but agree. The sun was rising outside, and you had a feeling that today would be anything but ordinary.

Authors note- Hiii!!! This is my first post on here, so I hope you enjoyed it!! If this gets decent attraction, or people reach out to me, I’ll post a master list and open requests! Aside from that, I have some pretty cool stuff I’ve written for some other fandoms I’d like to share too, some cool series and stuff! Anyways, hope you have a great day and if you’re reading to the end love you MWAH 💋

[keferon]

Hellooo I'm loving your fibsh au so much and in love with orca boys but but

A little bit of an idea so

We know Jazz is lonely as hell due to the lifetime of captivity

But consider: Prowl also being incredibly lonely even as a wild mer. Let's say he's always been a "weird one" in his pod, quite awkward in social stuff for an orca, unable to form really strong bonds with others due to being emotionally dense (gotta come up with a reason for that but I'm just spitballing) and being feared by everyone else (oh god scary apex predator, run for your life)

Yes he hunts with his group, he's a very good hunter in fact, great strategies, he follows all the rules to a t but they never really accept him as a friend. More of a coworker. So he's always been sort of by himself, alone in the crowd

And here comes that captive orca mer who has no idea about "proper mer social behavior" and is so happy to be around Prowl and looking to him for guidance. And they're both so very lonely in different ways

Aight that's all, I just think it would be neat, for angst bfdvdf

Oh I kinda love it. You know like those lone male orcas who live mostly alone for variety of reasons?

Prowl would have merpeople around him sure but just like in canon he would probably be quite unpopular.

Then. One time he gets in a fight and ends up being seriously injured and bam. Humans found him bleeding out on a shore and decided to help. But they wouldn't instantly throw him in the same tank with Jazz right.

They would have kept him in some temporary pool that would have been hastily found. It would be awfully crowded and even more lonely.

Then someone at the aquarium would find out about him and come running in like, "Guys! We need that orca!"

And then they would have to sedate him and move him to aquarium and even then he will be placed in a separate pool at first.

....ACTUALLY now when I think about that. Being captured would be such a stressful fucking experience to him. He wouldn't just close his eyes while at the sea and then simply open them in the aquarium....

[iamespecter]

I was thinking of reblogging @queen0fm0nsterz ‘s post about this, but I feel like it’d be better if I just make a separate one instead. (Carols you did such a great job as always 🙏🙏 I just wanna add to the conversation lmao)

Anyways, the idea of Femininity and Masculinity being tackled in the Little Nightmares franchise makes my brain tingle, but definitely not something I was initially aware of until it was brought up; especially in the way it subverts expectations– while at the same time, tackling the very toxic stereotypes that our society has come to place upon every individual.

With The Lady and The Thin Man being the strongest contenders of this example, to the point that even their names contains feminine and masculine terms.

On a misogynistic point of view, when you think of a lady, you think of someone soft. Vulnerable, caring, weak, approachable. But The Lady appears to be anything but those terms. She subverts the expectations of what is established to be a woman, a geisha, by being cold, sharp and unforgiving. Anything alive that dares stumble upon her quarters are to be punished. A strong independent business mogul of a booming empire in the sea, her faceless appearance capable of being worshipped as a Goddess by those who idolize her.

Yet behind closed doors, when she takes off the mask… we see a glimpse of The Lady’s fears, of the very weakness she so desperately hides; a crack in her carefully crafted and vain facade. Her own self. Her buried and lost identity. And it’s even more prominent when Six finally enters the scene; she is literally forced to weaken herself. To give the little girl in the yellow raincoat a fighting chance, because of the ritualistic passing of the torch to the next successor.

To be killed and consumed in the hands of a starving, filthy little child.

All in all; it’s an ultimate “fuck you” to The Lady, who’s spent her whole life climbing to the top, making herself the apex predator, only to be forced to lower herself to such weakness at the very end of her life because of forces beyond her own control, like how women in real life are expected to submit.

Then, when you think of a man, you think strong. Muscular, fierce, broad, confident, immovable.

The Thin Man also appears to be anything but those things. He is scrawny and lanky, his frowning face hidden behind the shadows of his hat, his bad posture looks as if he is curling in on himself or falling apart; he is so overly emotional that even his surroundings are affected by it.

He subverts the expectation by being a recluse, frail and flexible; but also needing companionship so badly that he KIDNAPS A RANDOM CHILD WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE WEARING HIS FRIEND’S RAINCOAT, yet also stereotypes himself into being selfish, stubborn, intimidating, and all-powerful man who never changes his ways despite being constantly proven wrong.

His stubborn mindset comes at par when he is facing down with his younger self; Mono. When Mono makes a rescue attempt, he is IMMEDIATELY GOING AFTER HIM. Stopping at NOTHING, even when met with countless obstacles that would’ve already deterred an ordinary monster. It even comes to the point where they come to a standoff on the streets in front of the Signal Tower, which proves to be his ultimate demise. Because he has the constant need to keep going after Mono, to crush his younger self for daring to try and stand against him, he ultimately fails because Mono is stronger, younger and has raw, uncapped power compared to his weakening state. Even when he is about to fade away from existence he STILL wants to crush Mono, until he physically collapses in on himself.

Men are expected to be idols, “Alpha male” role models if they’re a successful individual, but The Thin Man is incredibly obscure. You don’t even get to see him in the beginning of LN2, during Mono’s nightmare sequence. In fact, I doubt his viewers even know of him, they just know his broadcasts. He’s regarded to be the boogeyman of LN. He even submits to what he assumes his "friend" wants; giving her TONS of dolls, toys and even a new pair of shoes just so she'd stay. Whether or not he was the one to give her the music box is still debatable.

He’s a no one, a nobody. Just a battery to an eldritch being.

If you think it stops there, oh no. We’re not done.

The Hunter; we see his taxidemized family– Resident Evil VII reference aside– posed to be having a lovely family dinner. We don’t even know if it’s his actual family, or it’s just some random unfortunate souls who happen to have found themselves in the clutches of The Hunter. It’s even to the point that The Hunter HIMSELF is taxidermized– bits of cotton sticking on his shoulder and waist, possibly so he could feel like he’s a part of the “family”.

The way he subverts the trope of a Huntsman being a recluse, lone wolf, yet at the same time stereotyping himself to be one, and being a whole lot more trigger happy than your local redneck? Horrifyingly well executed. He built himself a community and even changed himself to conform into it, but his stubbornness caused his end.

The Teacher, who surrounds herself with fake ceramic children– as empty, and shallow as their thinking, to teach useless lessons that no one in the class can even comprehend. As far as we know, she’s the only adult in the School, and yes, I’m not counting the Principal because he’s only shown in the concept art.

Imagine. One teacher. Hundreds of students. Despite the presence of countless little shits, she’s STILL alone and isolated trying to be independent, because these aren’t even REAL CHILDREN that she’s teaching for. She isn’t given the chance to die like the other male antagonists of LN2, she just continues on like nothing because death would be an easy out.

The Doctor, who crawls on the ceiling because he’s a doctor; a higher being who would rather not walk on the same floor as his patients. Yet still caters to their wants of body modifications, because without his patients, what use would there be of a Doctor in the first place.

Whenever his work is disrupted in the slightest, he goes on a raging rampage; flipping shelves and stacks of beds, attempting to crush the little vermins who ruined his craft to the point of chasing them inside of a cremation furnace, again– stubbornness causes his downfall.

The Janitor, stuck in the bowels of The Maw to do every job, even taking care care and watching the captive children in The Prison.

He holds a lot of objects with sentimental values, even carved a wooden statue of a Nome that the Runaway Kid can throw in the flames of the Maw’s engine. When he captures a protagonist, he’s very gentle, only really snapping his neck and limbs to stretch and adjust his posture. In the end, he is forced to wrap up the very same children he takes care of, to be sent to the kitchen for the feast. His arms are taken from him, and he bleeds to death all alone because he was too insistent when he could’ve just left a cornered Six alone.

The Twin Chefs have each other. They’re so in sync, that they’re practically conjoined to the hip, that even promotional material shows them literally being that way.

Despite the mountainous task of cooking for hundreds of Guests, they are able to achieve this because they have each other’s backs. They both survive Six’s clutches despite their stubbornness, yes, but they’re also both stuck in the Kitchen to keep cooking for customers every day, every year, ‘till the rest of their lives.

The way Little Nightmares handles Femininity, and Masculinity is definitely a fascinating subject, and to think that we got this level of detail from Little Nightmares 1 DURING APRIL OF 2017. You know? The time when the world was still on edgy humor, and misogynistic point of views were still widely accepted to be valid, because it could be passed off as dark humor? It's a rather insane amount of detail that makes Little Nightmares this horrifying, and twisted view of our own reality; exaggerated to the utmost degree of course, yet scares us not just because of it's effective monster designs, but also because of how it shows a glimpse of an ugly truth hidden in plain sight in our society.

My head still kinda hurts, and maybe I can word this better if I spend a few days workshopping it (especially since I haven't even included the kids in this post) but this is just some of my current thoughts on the topic.

[sukioyakio]

thoughts

an:I have no idea what I’m writing about 😭🙏im not expecting this post to do well but pls enjoy

The most fearful,powerful, destructive yet most beautiful,remarkable,and divine being in all the seas. Sukuna ryomen,the most fearsome siren half mermaid in the oceans.

Siren Sukuna who lures pirates with his illustrations and voice toward him to easily become his food.

Siren Sukuna who has been living for hundreds of years,knows everything about the sea.(yet has no real clue how different living is in land)

Siren Sukuna Who gone completely bored from his killing,and stays inside a cave right outside a city .Where he doesn’t have to be bothered by pirates or outsiders.But even that doesn’t stop some people,someone like you.

Siren Sukuna who was just laying down on a rock to relax his large body for his fish scales to smooth out,as he was just staring into the little pond in the cave.Then he hears a small groans from what seems like a human.As he just Silently watches in the shadows of the caves.

“ow..shit this is going to hurt”You mutter underneath your breath,as you wince from the blood dripping down your knees.As you takes yourself in darker into the cave as the pond was the only light. As you lay down panting on breath.

”At least I was able to put ran the City gruads” You whisper to yourself brushing your hair with your hands and swiping off the sweat.

Sukuna who completely in the dark looking at you,with amusement.Seeing how long it takes you to know that there’s a apex predator right in-front of you.He doesn’t care about the thought of killing you right now.

He flaps his fins to at least scratch his body, making a loud noise and with that,it made you start worrying.

“What was that??” You whisper as your eyes search around the the dark cave and pond to find nothing,because of the darkness.You tried to get your body back up but fails miserably from the pain of your knees. Instead you shakily talk up to whatever is in the cave with you.

“h-hhello is there any-o-one here?” You announced in the darkness as your heart pounds loudly against your chest. Which in the small distance where Sukuna is across from you watches this,it just makes him laugh at how scrawny of a human you are.

His dark laughter makes you squeal in fear as You finally found the person who here.You locked on to Sukuna ruby like eyes,and glances at his body and seeing the multiple scales he had in his body and how the left side of his eyes had a dark brown scar that does nothing but enhance his eyes.

Siren Sukuna who’s founded to be seeing such a weak pathetic human,It almost makes him feel sort of pity for you almost.He would feel your eyes on his face,scanning him with your fearsome eyes.And then within a second his inside the pond that set a barrier between you two.His body completely covered in water as he swims towards you and continues to laugh at your scared little face as you move backwards until your pushed into the wall.

Siren Sukuna ,Who see how your body shake in fear of seeing his canine teeth’s as he make a sly grin.He quiet literally having fun with scaring you,he had always had fun seeing the faces of fear painting across his food.

“What should I do with you,since your completely at my mercy” He announce with a cruel smirk that shows his sharp canine teeth’s.

“Please!!Dont eat me!Im Promise that I’ll never come here again and-and Plus I’m not even that delicious,I’ll probably t-taste like ..trash”You said you said frankly as you small tears began to roll down your cheeks.

He rolled his eyes at your response,As he get out the water now half his body out the water and in front of you,as the water from his body create a little pool of water below him.

He scoffed at how unoriginal your response was. “What makes you think I haven’t heard that same speech before brat,This is really starting to bored me”His says at the end of his voice dropping an octave lower making him more imitating then already.

”umm!!I’ll give you my l-lifee if-f in exchange to be able get to live again,and-and you get to-to whatever you want- to -to me” You spoke rapidly and bit shakily about it as you close your eyes and starts to mutter prayers to yourself.

Siren Sukuna who is amuse by how fucking stuipd of a human you had to be,but he stood there staring at you dumbfounded by your deal.But he thinks maybe he could use you for entertainment in his daily life.And so he looks at you,staring down at you like a hawk. The second he saw you opened your eyes he stab his nailed into your wonded knees making you scream and he quickly uses his other hand to knock you out with his hand.

———

and that would be the deal that got you In this mess,but also meet someone who’s a total asshole sweat -heart. Everyday would be some new torture (it wasn’t really a torturous thing just Sukuna mocking and bully her/you) to deal with.

But this deal would make him have feelings that he couldn’t even fathom the thought of having until he met a weak scrawny,helpless human. Example would be annoying the fuck out of him,Having low patience for your stuipdy,making him wonder how the hell are you good at stealing but a total dumbass when it come to survival instincts.

A human now bond with a Sea creature of Beaty and death.

if anyone wants to see more of this,please tell me in comments,and please share your opinion or suggestions with it.

Made by @sukioyakio

Edited:PART TWO IS OUT next>