Ivoslav
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Soap had felt safe. The ocean had been his home.
He was young, but he was skilled, was a quick learner.But humans wanted entertainment, and what humans wanted they took.
He did not know how long he had been stuck, stuck with cruel beings that viewed him as nothing more than a shiny curiosity to gawk at. They knew ways to make him do what they wanted.
He knew the rules now, knew not to vocalise, knew now not to bear his fangs.The marine biologist team around John Price and Kate Laswell want to help. They are a safe haven to heal, perhaps find a way back to the ocean, but first they have to gain his trust.
And then, there is Ghost, who too has met humanity at it's worst.
Bookmarked by Ivoslav
25 Apr 2026
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“Hello, darlin’…” he murmurs as he gently lifts Javelin out. “Let’s get a good look at ye, aye?”
She coils instinctively on the cool surface, trying to tuck her head.
“Aye,” John breathes softly. “She’s an absolute beaut.”
Simon feels heat crawl up the back of his neck and hates that he does. It’s not even him being praised.
—
Simon Riley only meant to get antibiotics for his sick snake.
He didn’t expect to get a Scottish exotics vet with a sunshine grin and strong opinions about his choice of drink.
Bookmarked by Ivoslav
26 Feb 2026
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Hidden from the world above, the different races of merfolk thrived within the ocean realm- that is, until the race of men appeared. When humans discovered that mythical creatures such as mermaids and mersharks were real, true flesh and blood beings that lived within the ocean depths, it sparked the wonder and amazement of millions. But the darker, greedier aspects of human nature soon emerged, and as time passed countless merfolk were captured or killed, hunted to near extinction.
Tucked away along the Scottish isles lived a tribe of Blacktip mersharks that managed to escape the negative impacts of man. Among those was a mershark who was quite different from the rest, one who, at times, had a propensity to let his curious, adventurous nature overrule his better judgment. A character trait that had nearly gotten Soap killed in his youth by the human hunters his kind so despised.
To his shock, he was also saved by the very creatures he was taught to hate and fear, and Soap was left with the astounding discovery that not all humans were bad. But... some merfolk would never be swayed, and as two worlds collided, Soap's loyalty to those he loved would be tested in ways he never imagined.
Bookmarked by Ivoslav
08 Nov 2025
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Soap doesn’t remember the ambush outside Prague. He doesn’t remember the medevac, the surgery, or the two weeks he spent in a coma. What he does remember is Ghost’s face when he wakes, sitting at his bedside like he hasn’t moved in days.
Turns out, Ghost’s been listed as his “next of kin.” Which is strange, because Soap doesn’t remember marrying his lieutenant, either. However, hospitals only allow family to stay overnight, and Ghost wasn’t about to leave.
Now, as Soap learns to walk again, Ghost helps him eat, move, and stay awake. It’s supposed to be just for practicality and convenience.
But there’s nothing practical about the way Ghost looks at him or the way Soap looks back.
Recovery is messy. So is pretending not to care.
Or: Soap survives the gunshot, and Ghost pretends to be his husband so he can take care of him
Bookmarked by Ivoslav
03 Nov 2025
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John “Soap” MacTavish is frozen under the weight of a singular glowing golden eye. Its vertical pupil dilates and contracts and Soap swears he can feel the physical weight of a touch skimming over his body as it trails up and down him, assessing. The touch feels as if a singular sharp claw is being dragged over his skin, holding him in place with the silent threat of evisceration should he so much as breathe.
So he doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t move, he can’t even bring himself to look away from that eye as he’s studied; as his fate is decided by the sleek, inky black creature standing just a few feet in front of him.
Soap’s skin feels as if it’s burning under the weight of that stare, but he’s finally able to take a breath in. He lets it out through his nose slowly, quietly, and is careful not to move as he tries to convince his body he isn’t in danger.
But he isn’t convinced. . . isn’t even close, and as he’s able to finally tear his gaze away from the one eye that he can see, he becomes almost sure that he is in danger.
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Bookmarked by Ivoslav
26 Jul 2025