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whorety-k · 11 hours
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Ebony Coasts [Part 7] [Final]
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: The Night - Aurelio Voltaire “This just seems very strange to me / that her quiet lonely streets / Draped in all their mystery / could be so sweet and comforting / But the night / she calls me.”
Warnings: NSFW, Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, SMUT, I repeat NSFW CONTENT, utter fucking FILTH, author’s interpretation of merfolk anatomy, likely unrealistic anatomy, consent and communication are sexy, praising, temperature, scent kink, size kink, tummy bulge, breeding kink talk, disgustingly fluffy and sickeningly sweet
Word Count: 3.4k
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]
A phosphorescent haze clouds your vision and blurs the edges of each shape. Sounds muddle in your ears and everything became unclear around you, but you had been here before and you knew the way to go. Each step simultaneously feels like a light year and an inch as you make your way through the cavern, and it was difficult not to find yourself dizzy on the suffocating atmosphere. When had you become so out of breath?
You duck your head into the bedspace, eyes catching on the myriad of shining treasures lining the walls once again. Corvus sat alone in the center of his nest, teeth worrying into his lower lip. The ebony and ivory merman lie twitching on his side and covering his eyes with a slick forearm, huffing out little fluttery breaths. You couldn’t see so much as hear the wet slide as he rolled his hips and grunted with each thrust. 
Parched, you lick your lower lip and try to approach the squirming figure, feet heavy with each labored step. Each footfall makes no sound within the small space, swamped by the needy huffs and twists. You reach out to place a hand against Corvus’s wide back, surprised to find the surface hot to the touch. A massive arm rolls up to reveal pleading black eyes, consuming you whole as the pale mer reaches behind you and harshly drags you over. 
The hand at your back plasters you against his clammy skin, Corvus rolling onto his back to make it easier for him to hold you close. His lips move, but you’re unable to decipher any of what he’s saying as you move forward. He tugs you closer again, a bit more roughly than you’re used to. The action sets you off balance, pressing chest to chest with your mer and gripping on tightly to avoid slipping. Drunk on the aura of musk, you lean forward to kiss him, lips parted as he melts into you—
A final jolt through your body finds you waking with a start, panting against porcelain skin like you’ve just finished a marathon. You sit up with a groan. That dream again. You’ve been having them since the admission of Corvus having to share his ‘genetic material’ to craft his ‘sons’. He hasn’t done much more to explain that scenario, letting your brain run wild with the concept in all sorts of traitorous ways.
Your entire body feels hot in your lounge clothes and you grip your shirt collar to fan yourself out, blind to the hand on your shoulder until it shakes you once again. Bashfully, you look up.
Corvus is staring down at you with squinted eyes, scenting the air carefully. He moves a cold thumb to stroke your burning cheeks, speaking in a voice laced with concern, “Are you well, my pearl?”
Still winded, you nod your heavy head… only to notice the red streaks your nails have carved into the soft canvas of his chest. Oops. “Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!” you squeak, running a palm over the lines in an attempt to soothe them. 
Corvus places a calming hand over yours, stopping you. “That dream must have been intense for you to have attacked me so,” he banters, chuckling, “There is no need to fret. Your claws are far too dull to harm me.” You look into Corvus’s eyes with a guilty expression, and he tuts at you before bowing down to place a kiss at the crown of your head. “You are forgiven,” he says, and you smile. You feel Corvus readjust himself beneath you.
“Intense is a way to put it,” you reply, sweatpants rustling as you shift lower into his lap to lessen the strain of looking at one another. Corvus’s nostrils marginally flair at the movement, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, a cold hand finds your hip and keeps you from going any lower than the first line of scales over his tail. 
Corvus nods his head, “You had been tossing fitfully for a long while, but the clawing prompted me to wake you. I apologize for interrupting your slumber.” He takes one of your hands in his, rolling your fingers between his idly as if studying them. 
You make a claw-hand with the opposite and pantomime the motion of swiping at him. Playfully, you announce, “Maybe you should be more careful of having an apex predator in your bed.”
Corvus eyes you incredulously, blinking once. “Perhaps I should,” he rumbles. The bastard taps you with one of his own claws as he lets your fingers go, resting his hand on your thigh.
You scoot forward, accidentally placing your hands beside the mer’s cool gill covers as you frown up at him in challenge, but you’re almost sent tumbling when Corvus reflexively twitches upwards. He’s quick to catch you and apologize, but now it’s your turn to give him a skeptical look. “Can’t handle my ferocity?” you taunt.
Corvus’s cheeks tinge a dusty mauve and he averts his gaze, focusing on a rusted coin on the wall. “I argue it’s your intensity,” he admits, taking another heavy breath of air. 
You recline, intent on staring at him until he explains himself, but the action of sitting back causes your hands to brush against the soft fins at the front of his scaled hips. Swiftly, you place them to the side and bark out a, “Sorry!”
Corvus’s eyes blow wide, chest broad with a held breath as he forces himself to calm down. His mouth hangs open as he lets out a tense pant, easing back against the bed of furs with a thump. His head rolls back, and you hear a mutter of, “Throne, give me strength…” under his breath before clawed hands grasp your hips, holding you firmly in place.
Beneath your palms, the smooth expanse of scales distorts, noticeably tented under your fingers. Shifting causes Corvus to suck in another breath, snapping his head forward to stare at you.
Oh.
Oh. 
The mer holds strained eye contact with you as you both sit in silence, neither of you daring to move and break the tense moment. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears as the ever-watchful gaze of the mer pins you to the spot. Tentatively, you press a hand into the bulge, your careful caress rewarded with Corvus’s eyes rolling back into his head and a careful buck into the touch.
You try to press against him again, but Corvus uses the grip he has on your hips to slide your body lower, thrusting up against the apex of your thighs. A moan spills from your throat as you throw your head back from the rough contact, rocking your hips back to meet him. 
When you look forward again, Corvus is staring at you, expression hesitant. He rakes his eyes up and down your body, taking in the pretty curve of your back. Internally, the mer is at war with himself: torn between what he knows he wants and what he thinks is right. His mouth opens and closes as he attempts to find the words to say.
“This isn’t… wise. I don’t think—”
“Please.”
Corvus is caught off guard by need in your tone, eyes snapping up to meet yours again. His mouth closes in a grimace, eyebrows knitting together as he thinks. He teeters the line of reason and yearning, so afraid of hurting your fragile body, and so unable to handle the consequences if he does. What would he do if you were injured by his unnatural strength? He could not take you to an apothecary, nor could he get you to another human. He was useless outside of his designated purpose, and you had no business entertaining his biological responses.
“Corvus.” You say, reaching toward him.
He hadn’t even noticed his eyes drifting until you called out to him. Reluctant eyes find yours once more, and he sighs. He presses his face into your palm, squishing it between his hand and his cheek. Though still so full of want, his eyes regard you with a tender reverence that his dream counterpart could never get right.
You smile at him as he gazes at you.
“I want you,” you breathe.
The words cause Corvus’s shoulders to visibly relax, and he discards his former train of thought. Who is he to deny you this? You’ve been nothing short of caring, both in regards to him and to his sons. His little human that fought to protect his home, always brought him little treasures, and treated him so kindly despite what he is. He could have wed you the moment you sacrificed your sweet treat for Shrike despite having only just met him, only proving the radiance of your kind heart. 
For you, Corvus could do anything.
You let out a startled yelp as Corvus lifts you up, switching your positions with a graceful roll. He places you down onto the makeshift bed gently, taking advantage of the new position to place his large head between your thighs. 
The scent of you so close drives him wild, causing the mer to salivate at the intoxicating aroma of your arousal. He maintains eye contact as he drags his long tongue across the damp fabric of your sweats. The taste makes him whimper, and he can’t help but grind his hips into the furs. 
You gawk down at Corvus, rolling into the contact with a hot breath. “Do you want me to take those off—”
“Yes.”
Corvus sits upright, watching as you shuffle out of your sweats, dragging down your underwear with them. You kick off the fabric as it pools at your ankles and lay back, completely bared before him. The sight awaiting you has you salivating.
Dressed in a rosy flush, Corvus leans over you with hungry eyes, propped up on his hands. The fins at the front of his hips are parted, a purple-grey slit drooling desire as the head of his cock pushes its way out. His chest rises and falls with heavy pants. Your mer looks utterly ravenous.
You stare at his length as it emerges, swallowing the saliva pooling on your tongue. He’s huge, tapered from head to base not unlike a dolphin, and as if to prove the point, Corvus brings his hips to yours, resting himself over your abdomen. You’re almost surprised by the cool sensation, but not nearly as much as he is by the warmth.
“There’s no way I’m taking all of that without some really good stretching.”
Corvus seems to agree, nodding, but he doesn’t stop himself from rutting once between your folds before shifting back, eliciting a soft moan from you. He looks down at his clawed hands with a frown, lamenting the inability to do such a task himself. 
You give him a sympathetic look and make to reach between your legs. “It’s alright, I’ve done this plenty of times before—”
A lightbulb flickers behind Corvus’s eyes, and he pushes your hand aside. Instead, the pale mer leans you back against the furs once more, tilting your hips up and parting your thighs. You watch as he licks a stripe between your folds, flicking your bud with the tip. The pads of his thumbs have no trouble opening you up before he’s pressing the tip of his tongue into your tight little hole.
You keen out a noise of pleasure, unable to contain yourself as Corvus devours you like his final meal. He pulls away to plant kisses along the inside of your thighs before delving back in for more of your honey, chin glistening with a mixture of spit and arousal. The burning stretch of his tongue is delicious, drawing forth more pleads and cries. Corvus thoroughly explores your dripping cunt until you can feel that distinct coiling in your abdomen, heart hammering and breaths leaving you in ragged whines.
“So sweet, little gem,” he sighs, laving your nub and pressing a kiss to it, “So good.”
The tension in your body snaps as he dives back in, and you come hard on the giant’s tongue, heels digging into his shoulders and holding his head still. Corvus moans with you, helping you coast down from your high with a cool hand rubbing circles on the outside of your thigh. 
You shudder as Corvus withdraws his tongue and licks you clean, before doing the same to his sopping chin. You give him a hazy look as endorphins flood your body, moaning as you feel his cockhead tease against your entrance. “I wish it wouldn’t be so difficult to kiss you like this,” you murmur, and Corvus’s ear fins droop. 
“Alas, there is little we can do to remedy that,” he replies, sliding back and forth between your folds. You can’t tell which of you is wetter, but the easy glide is intoxicating and makes you feel all the more empty. “Do you feel ready?” Corvus asks with another drag along his shaft.
You nod your head, pulling your legs closer to your chest to make the impending stretch easier. “Please, I do not know how much longer I can— Oh!” He didn’t either.
The feeling of his cock breaching your cunt makes your head spin. It’s cold, but it feels divine. You swallow him greedily, breathing heavily as you adjust to the intrusion. Even with the combined slickness, the stretch burns. You throw your head back, eyes clenched shut as the mer works you open.
Corvus leans forward, bending at an awkward angle to get as close to you as he possibly can. “You’re doing so good, so warm,” he whispers, waiting for your body to acclimate. He kisses the crown of your head tenderly while stroking a parted thigh. When you think you can take it, Corvus presses in the final few inches until his hips are flush with yours, stretching you to the hilt.
You let out a deep breath before opening your eyes, staring into that comforting abyss you’ve come to love. He cups one of your cheeks and smiles down at you, curtains of black silken hair tickling your cheeks. Reaching down to feel the connection between you, you’re surprised to feel a prominent bulge in your lower abdomen. You lean up to look at it, and Corvus follows.
“You take me so well, my pearl,” he mutters, placing his hand over the mound and gazing longingly at the rounded flesh. His voice is heavy with thought, almost distant as he speaks, “You would be gorgeous, carrying my sons.” 
Corvus’s tone carries melancholy, and it aches you to have such a beautiful moment tainted by it. You place your hand over his to redirect his attention to you, clenching down around him. “Then fuck me like I could.”
Your words draw a snarl out of the giant, one of his hands clutching the bedding beside you before slowly withdrawing his hips, then slamming into you. The first thrust jolts you half a foot up the bed before Corvus’s hands find your hips, dragging you back to meet him as he fucks into you. His cock punches up into you in a way that has you blabbering utter nonsense. Your thighs are slick with your juices and his, a symphony of wet slaps as his hips repeatedly meet yours. 
Above you, Corvus’s head hangs as he moans praise. “Humans… are so hot. So tight,” he babbles, losing any semblance of higher thinking as he drunkenly plunges his cock back into your pussy with a gasp, “Such a good girl, taking all of me…”
Your walls flutter at the praise, and you drop your hold on your legs, letting them splay wide around Corvus’s waist. With a shout, your nails find the meat of his forearms, scratching the white flesh there and pulling a hiss from the giant as you clamp down around him. You’re grateful for this beach being protected and so far away from anybody, else you would be fearful to face another living soul later from the sounds you’ve been making.
Corvus slows, lost in the feeling of your cunt pulsing around his cock as you cum again, gently rocking his hips into you to help you ride out your pleasure. 
You pant and whimper beneath him, encouraging him to continue. “You haven’t cum yet,” you whine.
Corvus’s hips continue their unhurried roll, grinding against you once more before they still. He sits back to pull out, stating, “I do not need to. I am content with this.” 
You, however, are far from content with that. Even thoroughly fucked open and tired, thighs coated in a dusty purple liquid and your own cum, you have at least one more round in you, and you are not leaving here without a thorough examination of a new species. 
Your heels lock against the sides of his hips, only just able to hold him there. “I want you to finish.”
Corvus shakes his head, “I can finish another time—”
You’re having none of it. “Inside of me.”
He stares at you, and you stare back. The sudden feeling of being speared open once again sends a shock of heat up your spine, Corvus’s hips meeting yours in an instant. Instead of fucking into you with abandon, though, he savors the feeling of you around him. The languid pace allows you to watch each shudder of his pale skin, or admire how his eyelids flutter when he pushes all the way in. Gorgeous groans erupt from his chest when you clench down around him, causing the rhythmic bucks of his hips to stutter. Inky black eyes gaze down into yours as if you were the moon and the stars.
You reach out for him, palm open and patiently waiting. And, just as he had in your dream, he meets you halfway. 
But this Corvus is your Corvus. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. A far cry from the rough pulls and pushes your subconscious had imagined.
His pace begins to falter as he grasps your hand in his own, eyes rolling back. You snake a hand down to your clit to help finish yourself off, and the tremors of your walls tip Corvus over the edge. For a final time, your body trembles as you cum on Corvus’s cock. The moan Corvus emits is nothing short of sinful when he spills cold seed deep inside of your core, cock twitching with each spurt of semen. His hips continue to grind against you until the spasms stop, drawing back and pulling out. 
Corvus gently pushes your body to the side before dropping like an anchor onto the bed, panting like a dog. He tucks himself away, then rests his head on folded arms, hair completely disheveled. 
You turn to face him, wincing at the feeling of lukewarm cum dripping down your inner thighs. The air is moist and heavy with the smell of sex and salt. A little cleanup is going to be necessary— some of the furs underneath you are genuinely beyond saving— but, for now, it can wait. 
When your hand finds Corvus’s shoulder, he picks his head up to look over at you, face full of adoration and wearing a soft smile. “Are you satisfied?” he mumbles.
You nod your head, lifting yourself up to rest your chin on his bicep. Corvus lifts a knuckle to stroke your cheek, and you lean into the affectionate touch. A strong midnight tail curls around your smaller body, bringing you close enough for Corvus to turn and wrap his arms around. In a dance you’ve practiced what feels like a hundred times before, you tuck your head under his chin and close your eyes. 
“I love you,” you voice, placing a kiss to the top of a pectoral.
Corvus freezes around you, dumbfounded. His mind races with a million different reasons why you shouldn’t— but for once, he shuts it down. You love him, and nothing would stop the fact that you would do everything to prove it, just as he would. You offered the pearl, and you accepted the pearl. To Corvus, you are greater than any piece of treasure he could bring into his den, and that’s all he needs to know.
Instead of a voice of complaint, you’re suffocated half to death within the grasp of an ecstatic purring merman and he holds you tighter.
“I love you too, my pearl.”
Sticky, satisfied, and happy, the both of you drift off to sleep in the disaster of a bed of your own making.
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@bispecsual
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Happy final day of Mermay everybody!! I hope this has been worth the long wait it took. I had a lot of fun with this mini-series and Iearned a lot as a writer.
Not as a person, though. I'm a freak for Big Men and I know that. You know that. We all are afflicted.
Thank you guys for sticking around!!
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whorety-k · 20 hours
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your Cato content is so good. i didnt know anything about this mfer before your blog and now im a shameless simp 😭 i just wanna ride the mans thigh while he mocks me and calls me a filthy harlot. gahhh hes so obnoxious i love himmm 😫
GUESS WHAT FAM, YOU'RE GETTING THAT! I mean mostly the thigh riding part is up in the air but who knows
here's a peek
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whorety-k · 22 hours
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All of my Ebony Coast girlies
This is how your mans decorates for the wedding
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Do you make everyone that shows up try a warhead?
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whorety-k · 23 hours
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Shrike: "I wanted that!"
Nykona: "Shouldn't have ate that chip, bozo."
Reader: "Oh you can have mine, Shrike!"
Shrike: "..."
Nykona: "..."
Corvus: "We marry at dawn."
Ebony Coasts [Part 6]
I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”
Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff
Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave. 
The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously. 
Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket. 
But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.
You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon. 
“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”
“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.
In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you. 
You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–
A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.
“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.
You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.
“Corvus.”
“Yes?”
“It has been an hour and three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“This? Over three minutes?” 
The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”
Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball. 
“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset. 
“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”
Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves. 
The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.
“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access. 
“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.
Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–” 
“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.
The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.
You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.
“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”
Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember. 
The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat. 
“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.
Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”
“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—
Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.
“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.
He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.
The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—
“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady. 
Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”
A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.
The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.
It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.
“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.
Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.
“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.
Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.
Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.
The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them. 
“Do they want to try some human food?”
Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment. 
It did not, in fact, take a short moment.
Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.
Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.
A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog. 
“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents. 
Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”
The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth. 
In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.
Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.
Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.
Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it. 
You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look. 
Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within. 
Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips. 
Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta. 
“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath. 
The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit. 
You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—
A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it. 
He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”
It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket. 
No one else seems as amused.
Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.
You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”
Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.
Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.
You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?” 
Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”
His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.
Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”
You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.
“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”
Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”
“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment. 
Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.
Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.
That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.
----------------------------------------
these two pictures had me dying laughing
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this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious
I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.
If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)
If you do want smut, though, I ask you to eagerly await part 7
41 notes · View notes
whorety-k · 23 hours
Text
I had originally planned to write the entire "Dad what are you doing" conversation, but it made more narrative sense of the spoke in high Gothic to each other
If reader spoke Gothic, the conversation would have been something along the lines of, "We were trying to find out why you kept coming to land and--- IS THAT A HUMAN? ARE YOU IN DANGER, FATHER?? No? What do you mean no? I suppose she's rather tiny... WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE PROPOSED?"
Ebony Coasts [Part 6]
I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”
Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff
Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave. 
The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously. 
Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket. 
But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.
You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon. 
“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”
“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.
In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you. 
You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–
A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.
“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.
You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.
“Corvus.”
“Yes?”
“It has been an hour and three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“This? Over three minutes?” 
The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”
Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball. 
“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset. 
“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”
Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves. 
The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.
“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access. 
“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.
Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–” 
“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.
The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.
You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.
“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”
Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember. 
The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat. 
“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.
Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”
“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—
Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.
“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.
He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.
The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—
“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady. 
Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”
A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.
The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.
It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.
“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.
Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.
“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.
Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.
Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.
The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them. 
“Do they want to try some human food?”
Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment. 
It did not, in fact, take a short moment.
Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.
Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.
A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog. 
“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents. 
Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”
The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth. 
In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.
Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.
Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.
Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it. 
You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look. 
Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within. 
Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips. 
Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta. 
“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath. 
The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit. 
You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—
A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it. 
He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”
It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket. 
No one else seems as amused.
Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.
You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”
Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.
Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.
You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?” 
Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”
His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.
Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”
You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.
“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”
Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”
“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment. 
Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.
Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.
That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.
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these two pictures had me dying laughing
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this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious
I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.
If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)
If you do want smut, though, I ask you to eagerly await part 7
41 notes · View notes
whorety-k · 23 hours
Text
"These are my new sons. Aren't they so cute when they send shreds of meat flying everywhere?"
I love making the Raven Guard chaotic disciplined, especially when one of the two is notorious for being literal shadow
Ebony Coasts [Part 6]
I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”
Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff
Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave. 
The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously. 
Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket. 
But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.
You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon. 
“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”
“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.
In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you. 
You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–
A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.
“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.
You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.
“Corvus.”
“Yes?”
“It has been an hour and three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“This? Over three minutes?” 
The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”
Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball. 
“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset. 
“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”
Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves. 
The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.
“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access. 
“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.
Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–” 
“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.
The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.
You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.
“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”
Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember. 
The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat. 
“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.
Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”
“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—
Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.
“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.
He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.
The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—
“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady. 
Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”
A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.
The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.
It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.
“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.
Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.
“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.
Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.
Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.
The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them. 
“Do they want to try some human food?”
Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment. 
It did not, in fact, take a short moment.
Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.
Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.
A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog. 
“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents. 
Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”
The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth. 
In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.
Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.
Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.
Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it. 
You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look. 
Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within. 
Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips. 
Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta. 
“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath. 
The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit. 
You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—
A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it. 
He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”
It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket. 
No one else seems as amused.
Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.
You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”
Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.
Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.
You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?” 
Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”
His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.
Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”
You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.
“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”
Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”
“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment. 
Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.
Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.
That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.
----------------------------------------
these two pictures had me dying laughing
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this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious
I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.
If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)
If you do want smut, though, I ask you to eagerly await part 7
41 notes · View notes
whorety-k · 23 hours
Note
necklace anon here:
second necklace! Second pearl necklace!!! Yay!!!! Ocean husband time!!!!!
At the start of this chapter I thought it would be about another primarch bothering you and Corvus. But I didn’t expect the raven guard to be the ones joining in on the picnic! So this turned out to be such a sweet and wholesome chapter and I now need to be their stepparent (and the parent who stepped up)
Also I love how both the reader and Corvus sometimes say stuff that the other one doesn’t understand and they’ve both just like “yeah I’ll just pretend to understand what you said, hopefully my questions will be answered in the future”
Pearl necklace, bestie!!!
Writing the Raven Guard was so much fun. Behind the scenes, it was a toss up between having Corvus interrupted by another Primarch, but I had a quick discussion with one of my beloved mutuals and ultimately went with Nykona and Shrike.
Also yes!!! I had to include a more extreme type of culture shock where both parties just, had no idea what was going on with the other but they were willing to wait to find out. I have this happen a lot irl so I thought it would make for some fun plot points here.
I hope it was all worth the wait!!
2 notes · View notes
whorety-k · 2 days
Text
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i'm crying at the tags rn you are far too funny
please specs' tags these are pure fucking gold
if I was reader here this is some shit I would do like I can't wait for my "the mom that stepped up" shirt
Ebony Coasts [Part 6]
I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”
Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff
Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave. 
The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously. 
Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket. 
But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.
You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon. 
“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”
“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.
In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you. 
You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–
A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.
“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.
You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.
“Corvus.”
“Yes?”
“It has been an hour and three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“This? Over three minutes?” 
The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”
Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball. 
“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset. 
“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”
Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves. 
The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.
“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access. 
“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.
Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–” 
“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.
The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.
You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.
“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”
Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember. 
The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat. 
“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.
Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”
“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—
Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.
“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.
He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.
The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—
“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady. 
Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”
A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.
The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.
It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.
“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.
Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.
“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.
Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.
Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.
The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them. 
“Do they want to try some human food?”
Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment. 
It did not, in fact, take a short moment.
Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.
Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.
A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog. 
“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents. 
Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”
The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth. 
In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.
Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.
Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.
Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it. 
You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look. 
Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within. 
Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips. 
Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta. 
“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath. 
The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit. 
You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—
A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it. 
He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”
It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket. 
No one else seems as amused.
Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.
You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”
Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.
Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.
You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?” 
Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”
His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.
Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”
You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.
“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”
Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”
“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment. 
Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.
Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.
That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.
----------------------------------------
these two pictures had me dying laughing
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this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious
I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.
If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)
If you do want smut, though, I ask you to eagerly await part 7
41 notes · View notes
whorety-k · 2 days
Text
Ebony Coasts [Part 6]
I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!
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Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)
Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”
Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff
Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 7 (NSFW)]
Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave. 
The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously. 
Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket. 
But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.
You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon. 
“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”
“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.
In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you. 
You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–
A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.
“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.
You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.
“Corvus.”
“Yes?”
“It has been an hour and three minutes.”
“Yes.”
“This? Over three minutes?” 
The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”
Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball. 
“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset. 
“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”
Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves. 
The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.
“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access. 
“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.
Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–” 
“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.
The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.
You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.
“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”
Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember. 
The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat. 
“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.
Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”
“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—
Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.
“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.
He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.
The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—
“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady. 
Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”
A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.
The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.
It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.
“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.
Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.
“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.
Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.
Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.
The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them. 
“Do they want to try some human food?”
Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment. 
It did not, in fact, take a short moment.
Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.
Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.
A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog. 
“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents. 
Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”
The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth. 
In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.
Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.
Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.
Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it. 
You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look. 
Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within. 
Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips. 
Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta. 
“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath. 
The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit. 
You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—
A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it. 
He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”
It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket. 
No one else seems as amused.
Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.
You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”
Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.
Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.
You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?” 
Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”
His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.
Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”
You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.
“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”
Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”
“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment. 
Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.
Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.
That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.
----------------------------------------
these two pictures had me dying laughing
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this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious
I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.
If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)
If you do want smut, though, please enjoy:
[Part 7]
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whorety-k · 2 days
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OH MY GODS I JUST REALIZED
HIS FACE LOOKS LIKE FULGRIM BUT WITH DIFFERENT COLORS
THAT'S WHY IT BOTHERS ME
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Hey sorry to tell you this but, JoyToy just can put with the fucking worst design for Leman Russ I’m so fucking upset.
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Omg, he looks like he's about to ask to speak to the manager
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whorety-k · 2 days
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court day doodle
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whorety-k · 2 days
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Post-depression beard Sicarius is very mad he has to escort some random baseline human around
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whorety-k · 2 days
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Misty, you can't make me simp for Cato Sicarius with your gorgeous art!!! 😭💜💜
too late! We all love Sicarius here and his insufferable fucking attitude
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whorety-k · 2 days
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you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me
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whorety-k · 2 days
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WHERE'S HIS TOPKNOT???
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He doesn't look rugged like he's supposed to. He just looks like Some Dude in a too-dark suit of power armor. It doesn't have the Primarch look to it, and it certainly doesn't look like Russ.
Hey sorry to tell you this but, JoyToy just can put with the fucking worst design for Leman Russ I’m so fucking upset.
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Omg, he looks like he's about to ask to speak to the manager
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whorety-k · 2 days
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Walking into a room, seeing your brother posing for a nude and then hearing the loudest tv static ever emanating from a remembrancer’s brain? Poor Magnus got double the amount of psychic damage that day 😭
Magnus the Red learned how to knock on that day.
In reality he just stops coming over, this is the third time it's happened
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whorety-k · 3 days
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I’ll be real with you the actual thing that I listen to when I write spicy scenes is just a youtube video titled 10 Hours Of White Noise
this has me laughing inconsolably because that's what's going through my brain when I write 24/7
Imagine Magnus the Red walking in on Fulgrim posing for a painting of a tasteful nude and when he reads the remembrancer's mind it's just deafeningly loud TV static
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