#just because he has a pathology about spying on humans doesn't mean he fully understands that they're not big fans of getting pulled under

[a-sketchy-character]

can we get some facts and/or headcanons about this new whaling au? Or a snippet of the fic? 🥺

You ABSOLUTELY can!

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Ow.

….ow. Steph shivered, curling in on herself. The pain that had woken her throbbed sharper behind her eyes at the motion, aching through her skull and sinuses and lungs. That fabulous just-almost-drowned feeling. Ugh. And it was cold….

She opened her eyes, enough to adjust to the dim below-decks light — and sucked in a breath, scrabbling back to the edge of the wall, heedless of the insistent pain in her head. The Fish watched her silently from the pile of wet canvas in the curve of the bulkhead. Pressed so close to the floorboards it almost seemed part of the fabric, black hair and silver-grey scales practically buried in sailcloth. 

“Hello?” Steph called, scrambling to her feet. The ship creaked around her — she could hear the crew shouting and working above, but nobody close. Had the captain put her in here with the thing—? Her father had just let them. The hatch stuck and rattled when she pushed at it — she was stuck—

There was a tiny sound behind her, and she spun to face it. Claws and teeth and slippery scaled limbs closing around her, Steph remembered, icy saltwater scalding her lungs, and they weren’t in the water but she was locked in with the…the pile of sailcloth.

The thing had pulled the cloth almost entirely over itself. All that showed were a few delicate, silvery fins poking out between folds of ripped canvas. Ropes crisscrossed over the long lump of tail. If she squinted at it she could pretend it was something that didn’t want to kill her, some other less terrifying brand of fish. Maybe a large tuna.

It wasn’t moving.

Steph lowered herself back to the floorboards after a long moment, the ache still pounding in her chest and head. She wasn’t going to cry. Wasn’t going to cry. 

“I can hurt you,” she called out, her voice wobbling out without her permission. “If you try to attack me again. I can protect myself, I’ve done it before. Just so you know.”

The pile of sailcloth twitched, silent.