#beluga!reader

His tail is a squirming, restless thing that wiggles against your side, splashing the sea over your middle. Unlike you, he possesses sharp, strong flukes even so young. His dorsal fin is small for now but arches tall compared to his tiny body, tipped in brilliant yellow and gold, the beautiful colors following similarity along the end of his fins. His markings are unique among orca sirens: white and creamy yellow. He squeaks endlessly.

“Yes, I know, little one,” you answer, voice soft and attentive. “You have so much to say and I don’t understand any of it yet. But one day I will, and you can tell me everything all over again.”

His wide maw splits into a grin, revealing his nubby baby teeth. A high-pitch chirp of delight unleashes from Sun and you giggle with him. Bowing your head, you press your lips to his sleek, sheeny forehead.

A quiet whine arises from the crook of your other arm. You lift your head with a soft gasp. 

“Oh, oh, oh, my darling! I won’t forget about you, no, never,” you trill, answering your other adoptive child. 

Moon grumpily gnashes his teeth. The poor thing is tired, displeased with the swim in the middle of the day while his tummy lies empty. He shares his brother’s markings save for a black and white color pattern  which carves a half moon onto his face. His right eye cast in the blackness is a deep, pulsing red. His wide gaze stares up at you while he slowly blinks. His brow furrows with irritability. Mewling, he hides his face against your collarbone. 

Gently shushing him, you promise him a meal when their adoptive father returns. You lift a hand to gently stroke down the sleek appendage which dangles off the back of Moon’s head. His face is not crowned in brilliant gold fins nor deep burning reds, but small, silver fins. A soft, sleepy cerulean begins at his crown and melts into a deep blue. At the very end, a small fin in the shape of a star dangles. His fins and flukes carry the same colors, and together, your twins remind you of the rising morning sun over a midnight deep ocean. 

Your children, though not by your blood, are beautiful. Your heart bobs within your chest at the loss of their parents—by no uncertain terms, a tragedy. Eclipse found them, all alone. Regardless, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that they are safe and well fed, the thick blubber of their baby fat keeps them warm. You hold them safely.

It’s strange to think you were so frightened when Eclipse first brought you the twins. Of course, you didn’t understand then how much they needed you both.

Moon settles under your fingertips, his eyes growing heavy, drooping while you pet him softly. A great yawn splits his mouth, exposing his pearly white and round teeth. He is a grouchy thing when he doesn’t have his food or naps. 

“There, darling. It’ll be alright. Your father will be here shortly and then your belly will be filled and you can sleep all you like.”

Sun continues chirping and occasionally whistles not unlike you. Orca sirens, from what little you have gathered from Eclipse, don’t carry the same brillant pitches and whistles that you do. You admit you are glad you can entice your mate with lullabies he has never heard before, and in turn, he serenades you with deep, moving vocals that heat your heart into ice melt and stir your middle into a bubbling mess.

A soft splash echoes beside you. Your heart leaps in your throat when large hands fit around your waist, squeezing softly. Mindful of the little ones you hold, a soft flick of a tongue touches the shell of your ear, and your face floods with a heat that would combat an Arctic blizzard in the middle of a polar night.

“Happy day, my love.” He purrs the words against the nap of your neck. A sleek, large tail cradles your own, easily dwarfing you as he pulls you onto his chest, and together, your family floats like an iceberg. “How are the little ones?”

You struggle to find your voice, swallowing down the bubbles filling you up at his touch.

“Hungry.” You turn your cheek to find something drifting lifelessly along the surface just behind your mate. Teeth marks cut into the red and transparent flesh. A soft, mushy food that is easy for the little ones to chew and swallow despite being so young. You feared they would die without a mother’s milk but they thrive despite the odds. 

Sun immediately squeaks and squeals, calling for Eclipse’s attention with a heart endearing excitement that tugs on your core. Moon’s eyes fly open. He stares up at his father, owlishly gazing with a fixation that speaks to how glad he is to see Eclipse once more.

“Let me feed them.” He rumbles pleasantly against your back. “You’ve been doing wonderful caring for them so much. I will feed you too.”

Your cheeks bleed a pinkness.

“No, no! There’s no need,” you spout, embarrassed at such a thought and yet, you soften at such an offer. “They need to eat first.”

“They will, my lovely lullaby,” he growls softly as one hand releases your hip. “I will take care of you, no matter how sweetly you resist.”

You squirm slightly, as if to escape, but he holds you firmly against him. A soft splash echoes as Eclipse snatches the dead squid in his claws. Lifting it to his mouth, you feel a slight trail of a squishy tentacle against your shoulder before Eclipse snaps his teeth. 

He gingerly lifts a chunk of squid from his mouth, dangling it above Sun’s restless cries for food. You chuckle as he scrambles against you, his tail slapping the deep blue surface while he squeaks for a bite. Gingerly, Eclipse sets the meat into Sun’s grabby hands and frantically, the siren young begins gnawing on the soft flesh. His baby teeth make quick work of the meal. 

Moon whines a sad, pitiful sound. His large eyes threaten to dissolve into tears at his brother receiving the first taste. You coo gently.

“Your father is getting yours ready. It’s alright,” you softly sing until Moon’s bottom lip stops trembling. 

Eclipse delivers a fresh piece of squid gently to his adoptive child. Moon takes it in his chubby fists and begins chomping at it with vigor, his sadness quickly dissolving like snow upon the sea.

“Hungry little minnows, aren’t they?” Eclipse chortles. Gingerly, he swims you all along, a floating island of black, white, and red. He gently strokes Sun’s and Moon’s backs while they eat. “Chew slowly, little ones. The food is not leaping out of your mouths, I made certain of that.”

Of course he did. You fill with the memory of when he first saw you. Eclipse began your courtship with a prized offering of a squid and an insistence that you were already his mate. He frightened you. His teeth are shark-like and his size dominates your own, but he proved himself worthy of your songs when he held you close under the northern lights.

Quietly, you catch his jaws moving once more. Good. He needs energy to keep hunting food for the little ones, their appetite ceaseless and their needs great. You enjoy holding them. It’s difficult to part from their sides even when Eclipse insists you need a break to stretch your tail and move without the twins in your arms.

A black bone claw strokes your cheek. You grow still at the tender tracing, as if Eclipse intends to memorize the shape of your face with his touch alone.

“There has never been a more beautiful caregiver,” he whispers into your ear. 

You inhale softly.

“Eclipse,” you murmur, half in protest, half in a melting mess. 

“Truly, you never cease to amaze me,” he continues mercilessly. You feel your pale tail begin to shift into red, your entire body a blushing, betraying shade. Your mate rasps softly against your cheek, “When I first beheld you, I thought you were a living sculpture of snow, and my heart was captured. Then, you sang and enthralled me, mind and body. Now, you sweetly tend to our children. I knew it the moment I first touched you.”

He nuzzles softly into the crook of your neck. You mewl a tiny sound, resisting the urge to wiggle under the electrifying touch for fear of disturbing Sun and Moon in their meal.

“You are perfect,” he pulses.

“You are going to upset Sun and Moon,” you caution but it sounds weak and breathy even to your own ears. “Are you trying to court me once more? I’m already your mate.”

He chortles a dangerously low sound. His teeth graze the shell of your ear and you shudder. 

“Can’t I still seduce you, my lovely lullaby?” He rests his chin on your shoulder, gazing down at the two orca siren young that have become yours. “We have two children, but why not more? We can make our own pod.”

You balk, and the tips of your ears burn. Yet the thought deliciously stirs within you.

“One baby at a time, Eclipse,” you whisper, then smile, “Two, in this instance.”

“Very well.” He sounds far from sated with such a proposition, but to your relief, his attention shifts. He lifts a small piece of squid. A perfect bite for your mouth. “Eat. I won’t have you growing weak with hunger while you protect our children.”

You don’t resist as he softly presses the tender squid to your mouth. Parting your lips and taking it with your teeth, you begin chewing, savoring the succulent flesh. Your children swipe their tongues over their maws and look up, furling their messy fingers for more. Tiny squeals echo.

“I should feed you by hand more often,” he rumbles around a bite before he tears that apart, too, and splits it evenly between Sun and Moon. The little ones snatch the offerings with glee. A few slick smears of their meal paint their face but you’ll wait until they’ve filled their little bellies before cleaning them off. “You’re so precious when you let me take care of you.”

You almost choke on the squid in your mouth. It’s a wonderful thing Sun and Moon don’t understand the wicked words falling from their father’s lips, and yet, you can’t help but warm underneath his praises. Swallowing, you find your voice.

“Perhaps I should feed you next time,” you offer softly. “I can hunt too, and you need time with Sun and Moon. You can teach them best how to be orca sirens. I cannot.”

It’s not so sad that you didn’t give them your soft, white tail or small, round fins. They are perfect, Eclipse is entirely right in this regard as he proclaimed it so when you first agreed to raise them as your own. But your habits are so different. Perhaps, you might teach them the songs of beluga sirens. That would be enough.

“I would gladly accept such an offer.” His deep rasp slips into you and swirls around your heart. He presses sweetly against your cheek. “I will gladly have your undivided attention.”

Sun and Moon whine. Sun wiggles against you, scrabbling for his father while you laugh. Moon yawns, showing off the pinkness within his gaping mouth before he slips deep into the cradle of your arms, nestling greedily onto your chest. He lays his head softly over your heart.

“Oh, I’m afraid you have dangerous rivals in that regard,” you singsong.

Eclipse grunts, mockingly annoyed but his eyes glow softly with tenderness as he allows you to slip off of him. He takes Sun into his hands. Gently, he fits the tiny orca siren against his chest. Eclipse opens his other arm and draws you close, holding his entire family within his embrace as Moon gives a sleepy sigh.