Day One of Kink/Creeptober! Here are the prompts & my event terms!
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tigershark!mer!Gaz x gn!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ♪ The sailor tumbles into the icy depths, not to be heard again, not by the gods or the father Posiden and his trident, but a saved by the son of the sea. ♪
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.8 k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mentions of drowning/freezing/near death, kissing, saliva as aphrodisiac, gaz 'accidentally' uses it
𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒. The night was black as ink, screams and orders dying under the roar of the waves and wind. The ocean spitting in the faces of men as they hoisted the ropes and tried to tie down the main sail.
The storm had descended from nowhere, leaving the crew in a blind panic to rip the canvas from its mast in a matter of minutes.
The wind howled with a force that carried the rain sideways. It didn't matter that the icy hands of the waves licked at your back or clawed down your tear ducts. All that mattered, was trying to tie down the unruly sail.
The stormy night had snuffed out all the lights on deck, the only source of comfort had come from the white lightning that crashed like cymbals in the churning sky. The following darkness creating a fleeting moment of hysteria for everyone on board that valued their lives.
"GRAB THE HALYARD!!!"
Men swarmed by the dozens to grab the drenched rope, each grabbing on, grappling out into the darkness until they had it in their collective grasps and pulled. The ship rocked like an iceberg about to tip. No guide or god to lead it through the storm. The bow moaning with every crashing wave and spluttering punch the Atlantic had to give.
Once ordered to, you rushed to help the men grab the rope, the thick cord snapping around your wrist like a writhing serpent. Pulling taught as the sail struggled to close, too full of wind and rain to give way to the men that pleaded for it to shut.
"PULL!!!"
At once, the mass of men heaved, leaning back with a ton of weight, playing tug of war against the sea herself.
But she would not yield to the likes of men.
Another bolt of lightning vaulted across the dark clouds, lighting up the ocean in a searing flash of white.
A wave, at least ten men tall, stood up and jumped overboard in a rush of salt and bubbles.
In an instant, it swallowed you whole. The current slamming you from one side of the ship to the other. The rope, now your lifeline, uncoiled cruelly from your wrist. Simply letting go and tossing you headfirst into the depths.
Time slowed, and with the next crash and boom of lightning... all you could see were the churning clouds. No mast or other bodies. No orders or distant screams. Not even your own as you tumbled headfirst into the Atlantic soundlessly. Your flesh embraced with the icy bite of the sea in a loud splash of water.
You swallowed bits of the sea, lips finally moving all too late, opening and closing like a fish out of water. The surface of the ocean slipped from your grasp faster and faster. The waves pummeling you under the current, punching all the fight from your lungs in one fell crash.
The convulsions started quickly, muscles contracting painfully without any air. Breathing in only salt water. It was all too late that you remembered to swim through the shock. Body moving on its own accord in a fight for the surface. A fight for your life.
You broke the surface with a violent splutter, salt water vomited from your lungs, choking for air that was in your grasp. Just as cold and violent as the sea was.
Another flash of lightning cracked the sky in half, the waves forcing your head back under the water. Blindly drowning you and sucking the life out of your lungs.
Nothing made sense.
The dark void around you, the distant rumble of thunder, and a sky that mocked you with one last flash of lightning to show you just how far you had slipped under the sea.
The body that once fought for you, went lax and still.
Nothing made sense.
Until you felt a weight brush against your calf as it swam by. Then, something coiled around your waist, squeezing with a sickening softness. The body around this creature was warm and blubbery, even against your icy skin.
You blearily wondered if it was a school of fish trying to eat you. Already feasting on a sailor thrown overboard.
The world went dark once more, nothing to be felt or seen.
Until the sounds of choking filled your ears.
For a few minutes, that's all that existed. Breathless wheezing and gagging. The sounds of water sloshing onto a hard surface.
Then your eyesight returned, the dark world coming back onto focus as you rolled onto your side. A rush of sea water expelling itself from your lips with a violent heave.
A hand brushed against your back, patting firmly to help your struggle. The thick rains from just a moment ago had turned into a fine mist... still falling from the sky.
The hands, not your own, rolled you onto your back again. A shadowy face appearing before a pair of warm lips met yours. Flooding your lungs with a rush of sweet air.
Through the shock, your eyes widened, finally giving you the full picture.
Your savior pulled away, still cradling your head so that it didn't smash against the black rocks you now laid on.
Sweet honeyed eyes melted against yours, searching for a sure sign that you were okay. Alive. Dark, rich skin and tousled hair that reached just above his shoulders in thick waves. Droplets of clear rain dripping tantalizingly from his brows and lashes in a way that made him look like a god.
His lips crashed into yours again and your body shook from the pain that wracked your body. The near death experience leaving a tremor in your skin and a sickening rawness in your lungs. As if pebbled coral had scrubbed against the sensitive tissues around your heart.
You tried to cry from the pain, unable to feel the tips of your fingers from the frozen Atlantic you had just been pulled from, but the strangers lips persisted. Moving against yours, pulling you into him. His warm chest pressed against yours, igniting every sensitive nerve beneath him. So close you could feel his heartbeat like your own as he shared his breath with yours.
Steady and warm... and irresistibly sweet on your tongue, like the man had just drank the sweetest cherry wine. His exhale was soft like cotton candy, and twice as addictive. A sudden buzz flowing through your icy blood, granting it a pulsing warmth you had only felt under the morning sun.
The stranger finally pulled away and inspected your face. A concern scrawled all over his features. "Are you alright?" he asked over the roar of the tide, the water still crawling over the rocks to lick at your fingertips.
His voice. It was as rich as gold, and suddenly fiery tears stung the edge of your vision. It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. As if an angel was speaking directly to you.
He was beautiful, you realized.
He wore no shirt, no jacket, no sigil... he was a face you didn't recognize. That was for sure. If he was on your ship, you'd have remembered it. And the thought sent a cold jolt through your rapidly warming body.
You sat up too quickly, gasping for air with a hoarse wheeze.
The stranger let you, his hand staying on your back in a soothing manner. "It's alright, get all the water out," he assured you.
Your head dipped down, on the verge of coughing up salt until...
You saw it.
"Wha-?" The words couldn't come out of your mouth. The scream you had intended had only come out as a sharp inhale.
Right at his hips, it was like he had been eaten by a shark- No. He- he was one.
The blubbery body below his waist, the sharp fin and tail, was unmistakable. Akin to the creatures you had watched swarm around the ship, waiting for fallen food or eating the schools of fish that flocked beneath the boat.
That familiar grey-brown striped pattern on his-god!- on his tail-
A shark.
He even had gills below his ribcage, the creature not even wearing a shred of clothing that hinted at a humanity you knew.
"Yuh-You're-You're a-a" You huffed breathlessly, as if your body was trying to warn you. Trying to crawl back, away from the half-man in a frenzy of fear, but the pain ebbing in your bones was too much. The fright and fear to paralyzing. And the man held you close.
The same concern on his face still lingering for you.
"Don't move too fast!" He scolded with round eyes, holding you firmly next to him.
The struggle was feeble. Your body had given out before the struggle could even begin. Going limp in his hands as he supported you, the man suddenly jumping in worry that you had died.
"Hey! Hey! Wake up!" He patted your cheek anxiously before he leaned in and kissed you again. His breath mingling with yours, trying to force you to stay awake with a rush of air.
It was then, that the cold fear suddenly flushed out of your body. Replaced by a searing heat that shot straight into your blood. Fingertips tingling, feeling his arms and the intense heat of his skin despite the lingering rain. The acute way his body pressed against yours. The sweetness of his mouth.
It made your pulse flutter. Goosebumps crawling up your neck as he molded his body to yours. Pulling away to check again if you were okay.
The moment he did, your arm shot up and stopped him just centimeters from your face. Lips brushing his. You couldn't explain it, the need for this man ebbing below your skin like a sweet flame. You wanted him more than the last breath you had prayed for. Needed his lips, his skin, those warm eyes.
You pulled him back into your lips fiercely, tongue delving into his mouth to taste him again. Everything else forgotten and thrown to the winds. You only wanted his kiss. Again and again. Over and over until he drank the rest of the air from your lungs.
A soft groan slipped from your lips as he kissed you back. His body pressing insistently against yours, laying you beneath him on the rocks, his fin curled around your boots. Gasping for air against your lips just to crash into them all over again. With every kiss the heat intensified in your body, humming against his as his lips traced your jaw and neck.
got inspired by @cupidsworstcrime's orca!gaz series...he lives rent free in my head.....
am I the only one who thinks he'd accessorize himself the fuck up? like a corvid - he sees shiny, he take shiny. gold, silver, pearls, he's a master of fashion
pls be nice to me btw this is like the 5th time i've drawn a man ever in the ~8 years I've been drawing (and I got lazy), drawing men scares me. may someone with more experience and patience do him better than I did
Ayo, I totally forgot about mer-may! Even after remembering...
Anyways, have some shitty art or whatever? Extremely half assed post, mostly because I did the art and then forgot and gave up.
I have Ghost but nothing for Price, I can make another post if you want for them?
Gaz is a jellyfish-inspired Mermaid! In my brain, mers and fish kinda developed convergent evolution style. So while mer can look scarily like a real species (in this case one of those frilly jellyfish with the lines), there is no real connection.
He can still sting you though, so watch out!
Soap is an electric eel inspired Mermaid! He uses his shocks to ignight c4 and stuff, he's insane in every universe <3
This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels
I'm once again not playing by the letter of the law, but I really couldn't think of anything to write about bullets :(, so I found a work around.
Enjoy!
“Hello and welcome to Alpetsha's Arctic Expeditions! My name is Chrissy, I'll be your guide. Up there is Duncan, he's our lovely captain, give him a wave,” Chrissy smiled at all the frantic waving from the kids and the few half-automatic waves from the adults, “Awesome! Today we are focusing on Homotritus, or as it's more commonly called, we're going mer-spotting!”
Chrissy paused to allow for the cheers that announcement always brought, “Glad to see we're all excited! Duncan is taking us up to the edge of a territory that's home to a very unusual mer-pod. When we get there I'm going to ask that no one shouts, screams, or throws anything into the water. That includes yourselves or your fellow passengers,” she ends with a laugh to lighten the tone of her warning, smiling at the small ripple of laughter that washed through the boat in reply.
She felt the engines cut and the boat coast to a stop, a glance up to Duncan showed him giving her a thumbs up and she plastered an even bigger smile onto her face.
“Okay! Looks like we're here folks, I'll give you some fun facts while we wait for our neighbors to get curious. We're visiting a territory that's been established by a pod of four mers, we'll most likely be seeing Babble and Bullet come up for a visit. Babble is a minke-whale morph that-”
“What's a morph.” A little girl interrupts from her perch in her father's arms. Chrissy could barely make out her eyes, she was so well bundled against the cold.
“A fantastic question! A mer's morph is how we refer to the species that the mer looks like. It's not actually known why mers resemble certain species of sea creatures. Some claim its convergent evolution, others say its just aesthetic mimicry, but nothing is known for certain.” Chrissy throws a wink to the little girl, delighting in the way she giggles and hides her face, “As I was saying, Babble is a very curious minke-whale morph that will probably pop up to check us out sometime soon. Following him will be Bullet, an orca morph." The word orca sends excited titters through the crowd, everyone knows what an orca is, not so much for minke-whales.
"I will have to ask that no one screams if they spot them." Chrissy tried to make her voice serious, but not domineering. She didn't need anyone getting uppity about a woman bossing them around, "Bullet and Babble are some of the rare mers that wear rudimentary coverings and accessories and they can be somewhat alarming at first glance. Please remember that they will not harm you.”
“What's so alarming about them?” The gruff question is called forward from the back of the group, so Chrissy can't spot the exact asker.
“Another excellent question! Bullet has fashioned what looks to be a juvenile true-orca's upper jaws into a kind of headpiece, and Babble wears what we can only assume is the matching lower jaws.” Startled exclamations from the port side of the boat saves Chrissy from having to take a stab at explaining why mers do anything, and she moves over to the commotion as quickly as she can. Spotting curious blue eyes poking above the waterline as Babble spy-hops to get a look at them.
“And here’s Babble! You're right on time!” Chrissy pitches her voice to carry across the water, feeling the tension fall out of her muscles when the mer seems to recognize her or the boat she’s standing on and pops further up out of the water. Showing off the skeletal jaw of sharp teeth that was aligned and fastened to his own. Chrissy was happy to let the guests live in the ignorant bliss of assuming that she’s just trying to look fun by talking at the mer, every employee had been banned from even alluding to the fact that this particular mer-pod was notorious for sinking any boat that they didn’t like, along with almost every ship that dared poke its nose over their territory lines. Alpetsha Arctic Expeditions didn't make it a company policy to stay out of their territory just to be polite.
The minke-whale mer looked them over for a while longer then dove back under the water, sounding off with a flood of ratcheting clicks, pitching whines, and popping chirps the whole time.
“And that’s why we call him Babble. Now that he’s come up to say hi, we can expect to see Bullet soon enou-” the yelp of a bitten off scream echoing from the boat’s starboard side heralds Bullet’s arrival and Chrissy hustles over before people started getting smart ideas.
Bullet slowly circled them, his left pectoral fin breaching out of the water as he swam on his side to better eye the boat and its contents, or perhaps it was to keep the height of his distinctive dorsal fin under the water, so as to not give himself away too soon.
Bullet was a bastard like that.
“And here’s Bullet! If he turns over you’ll get to see how he got his name,” Chrissy said this with the bouncing tone of tour-guides everywhere, but eyed Bullet with much more caution than she'd given Babble.
Bullet’s upper face was completely obscured by the jaws he had broken and molded and mended to fit onto his head. The bone was covered in nicks, discolourations, and what a more generous soul might call carvings.
A shadow barreled up from the depths to sideswipe Bullet. Babble arcing out of the water and crashing back into it with a cheerful trill, narrowly missing coming down directly on top of Bullet. The waves Babble displaced rocked the boat and the guests gave a cheer for his antics. Bullet turned to chase Babble clockwise around the boat and the guests able to see him over the sides gasped at the newly exposed carnage.
Bullet’s right pectoral fin was ragged, missing its fore-edge and pockmarked with holes. The holes traveled diagonally up to his side, where their path was continued by a series of puncture scars. His back was serrated by lines of propeller scars, the front edge of his dorsal fin cut free from the rest of the structure, with the top third of its length missing entirely. He had another set of propeller scars marking his right collarbone, going over his shoulder, continuing down his upper back and Chrissy was willing to bet that under his mask he had a matching set across his face. Innumerous less distinctive scars tore up and down Bullet’s hide as well, teeth-rakes, old bite marks, rub lines, but the one that always got to Chrissy was the thick scarring that cuffed his tail above his flukes. Like someone had hauled him up and dangled him out of the water, their prized catch of the day.
“You said this is a four mer pod?” The shy question came from the very pretty young woman who had been unfailingly polite on every expedition Chrissy'd had her on. Chrissy was almost certain her name was Lizbeth.
“I did indeed! Good listening,” Chrissy praised, half to set a good example and half to see that cute blush creep up Lizbeth’s cheeks, “the other members of this pod are a very rare spot, as they like to hang out on the ice floes that are deeper into their territory. There’s a walrus morph we call Hoss and leopard-seal morph that earned the name Houdini. I’m seeing a few raised eyebrows from the more nautically inclined of us. Yes, the Arctic is not the natural habitat of the leopard-seal, but please keep in mind that this is a mer, not a true-leopard-seal. Mers are usually known to favour the natural habitats of their morphs, but they can and do move around as they like.” Chrissy watched the guests give understanding nods and gave another smile. Movement from above caught her eye and she glanced up to see Duncan giving her the ‘wrap it up’ signal.
“Alright folks, we’re gonna have to start packing it in, does anyone have any last questions?” Chrissy moved back over to her speaking platform. The speaking platform was really just a few pallets secured to the deck with anti-slip tape conquering its every flat surface, but it worked just fine.
“They’re all guys?” The question was half a sneer, from a young man that had been largely and loudly unimpressed with every activity Chrissy had seen him deign to attend.
“Yep,” Chrissy chirped, giving her biggest smile yet, “They’re what’s known as a bachelor pod, though not much is actually known about distinguishing the sex of mers. From what we can see and guess from how their morph presents, they’re all male.”
“They’re gay?” The same man barked, offended.
“Maybe!” Chrissy cheered, “Nothing is known about mer courting rituals or mating practices, so it’s equally likely that they are or they aren’t, but they do make a cute couple!”
Chrissy gestured over the starboard side of the boat, where Babble could be seen hanging off Bullet’s dorsal fin, making the orca morph tow him around. Bullet was darting about and doing tight barrel rolls, to the seeming delight of Babble. Chrissy wasn’t sure if Bullet was doing it to indulge Babble or to shake him off.
“Is that the last of the questions?” The guests looked around amongst themselves, then looked back at her, there was a smattering of shaking heads and shrugs, “Perfect!”
The engine kicked back on under their feet and the boat started pulling away. Chrissy glanced over the side, spotting Bullet and Babble bobbing in the waves, watching them leave.
Letting them leave.
Chrissy shook herself free of that thought and started the closing spiel. Thanking people for visiting, and making sure to mention the countless ways and places that the guests could donate their money to one of Alpetsha’s many wildlife programs.
Thank You For Reading!
I just really wanted to write mer au stuff for cod okay??
As you probably guessed Babble is Soap, Bullet is Ghost, Hoss is Price, and Houdini is Gaz.
Gaz earned the name Houdini by breaking into boxes and stealing stuff of the boats, the more they tried to secure it against him the more determined he was to get into it. He's a smart boy and he uses those smarts for evil and evil alone.
Minke whales are baleen whales and walruses eat like clams and stuff, so I had the idea that Ghost and Gaz will kill big stuff then bring it back and rip it into small pieces for Soap and Price. Price eventually got his hands on a knife to do it for himself, but Soap loves having Ghost do it for him.
I also had the idea that Ghost is blind in his right eye, hence why he's looking at the boat with his left.
