Actions

Work Header

Who's The Sharptooth?

Summary:

Sharptooth is a sharptooth. Shocker, I know. He lived a normal sharptooth life, did normal sharptooth things, vibed. But when he got hungry, he got voraciously vicious. He tried his best not to get hungry, but when the leaves began to die, he got much hungrier much more often.

Then really bad things started to happen. An adult longneck died by his mouth, he fell off a cliff, he chased kids, then he died. His memories of before that though are VERY interesting.

and after all, if he survived a 1000ft fall into the big underground, did he REALLY die when a boulder hit him into a lake?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: The Sharptooth

Chapter Text

Long ago, before you, before me, before the mammoth, and the bison, and the elephant as well, in the time of the dinosaurs, there lived a sharptooth. He lived a rather standard life for a large sharptooth. He was born, he was raised, he left home, said goodbye to his parents, had a couple Sharptooth friends here and there, and he ate. Then the leaves began to die across the land he lived in. You know the story from here.

Sharptooth stalked the herds, gained a little bit of a reputation for himself as being mean and nasty, but hey, when you’re good at your job, and your job is to kill and eat, that’s what you get.

Then, of course, he found two kids one day—he hadn’t eaten in a week. An adult showed up after his right eye was nearly gouged out, his stomach turned him ravenous, or that’s what he told himself, and he killed her. Well, he sort of killed her. He didn’t remember most of the fight, to be honest. After the thorns hit his eyes, it was all a blur. He remembered the pain though, hitting his neck on sharp rocks, then again on a cliff wall, and then getting flung down a hill, grinding his underbelly against the stones.

Oh, yes, then he remembered the earth shake. He’d never seen or felt an earth shake before, and he was more scared than he’d admit. Though, who would he admit it to? None of the other sharpteeth he’d met stuck around. He never got why the leaf eaters just grunted and roared all the time. He still understood what they said, but they rarely wanted to listen to him if he ever tried to talk. Somewhere he’d heard that they couldn’t make out his words through his growls so he didn’t bother.

But anyway, the earth shake. Yes. He remembered very little of that either. He woke up at the bottom of a crevice—something had poked him in his jaw a few times. It took him a whole day to get out of the great pit, and he’d still not eaten. He had sniffed around for a while once he got up to the surface and smelled a decaying carcass. He tracked the scent over to it and found who else but the adult he’d fought with. At once the memory hit him clearer that it was she who had knocked him off the cliff. Then that he was about to eat the two kids before falling. That was…a little embarrassing to sharptooth. What had been the point of trying to eat them if he were just going to die?

But then, he hadn’t died, had he?

He looked at the longneck body. He saw where he bit her—the skin was not clean, and it did not look good. Black bits were accumulating on the outer edge and yellow slime lined it. He moved his glance with his one remaining eye to her face.

She looked…despondent. Brokenhearted.

Tasty.

His thoughts turned to the baby who had poked his eye—he was stalling, he knew it, but he didn’t care. The little footed one was gone, wherever it was. He doubted he’d ever run into it again, and a good thing too. If he did he’d not be able to stop himself from killing it—likely for two reasons. One, he may still have not eaten, and two, nobody pokes his eye out and gets away with it. Revenge was not something he usually pursued; he admitted to himself that he didn’t really have a solid moral stance on many things in the great circle of life, but revenge just seemed like a waste of time. But now, with his eye, the thing he used second most to hunt, save his nose, and first most to fight…

No that wouldn’t do. That was not allowed. That child had better not cross him again.

He looked back at the mother, finally. As the wheels turned in his head while the day had long turned into night, he couldn’t exactly understand why she’d died. He was used to doing a lot more biting than that, or at least, not in that location. A bite hard enough on the neck? Sure. One and done. But on the back? Maybe if he followed the creature for days waiting for the rot, or if he bit close enough to a spot that spilled huge tons of blood. But he hadn’t.

So why’d she die?

He scanned her again and saw a gash on her neck that he hadn’t put there. But other than that, her legs were intact, tail was fine, head was fine, stomach was fine.

Odd.

Scampering footsteps shook his slow train of thought. Maybe he’d hit his head one too many times in the last day cycle. He smelled them first, he realized, but never processed it. Five fast biters, the ones with the quills and feathers. They wanted her—his “technical” kill.

Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry. It didn’t make sense why, to him. He was not sentimental about what he killed—it wasn’t his choice he was born a carnivore. Did he go overboard sometimes and kill too much? Sure, who didn’t. Did he get very picky about killing as a bit of compensation? Sure, who didn’t.

But that’s normal for a sharptooth, isn’t it?

The fast biters didn’t seem to care. They had snuck closer slow enough that they’d begun to eat. Sharptooth turned away and left.

He’d never had a child, and didn’t think he ever would. But for the first time he wondered what it would be like to think about him dying before his child could care for itself. And then being eaten. It wasn’t a great thought, but he dropped it.

That was his way. No thoughts could stay very long in his head, especially not while he was hungry. And he was very hungry. So hungry that it barely registered when he snatched a fast biter and ate it in two bites on the way out. The other four screeched at him and for a moment he didn’t know why. Then the taste of food lightly tingled in his mouth.

Oh. He’d eaten one.

He shrugged and roared back at them, scaring them off, before he left again. Less hungry now, more calm. But what now? The land was split and all the herds were gone. He was alone and he was going to die if he didn’t do something.

His nose took over and began to reach for miles looking for answers. He found big mixed herds, way too dangerous, small single creatures, some near death. Then a smell that narrowed his eyes and raised his lips off his teeth.

The kid. Both of them. Plus three more. They weren’t far away.

Easy catches and a little bit of revenge would taste really good. It’s not like they’d last long anyway without an adult. He’d…removed one already. The rest must’ve died or separated in the earthquake. Really it might be a mercy killing, he decided.

So he tracked them, and as you know, he found them in the early morning, but they escaped under a high fault line. Or he guessed it was a fault line—he couldn’t see the other side. And he’d never been this far west before, so he had no clue what the land was like. Between that and the earthquake…

Oh, yes, his head was stuck in the wall, that’s right. He thrashed and barked and snarled and finally got out. Ash began to fall soon, and he sneezed a few times. His stomach was holding on decently well—the fast biter he ate was taking its time to digest so he wasn’t that hungry, but he did need to keep moving. The kids kept going west—he saw the great circle start to climb over the fault line. He’d better find a way around it then.

It wasn’t exactly his idea to go west, but he’d seen a few dino groups go that way after the land split. From far away he smelled them all moving. By now he’d gotten used to only having one eye. He’d fallen several times misjudging depth but that’s what happens sometimes.

He was indifferent to it, as he was with many things.

Finally he found a way past and moved west again. Far north in the distance he saw a rock that looked like a longneck, and rolled his eyes. Longnecks weren’t ever even on his list of favorite meals, and now they left a bad taste in his mouth. Literally.

He saw smoking mountains as he turned back west, but he knew better than to go that way. Don’t touch lava, don’t play with lava, don’t touch tar pits, don’t smell the air, don’t breathe, don’t—just don’t. So he climbed up the slopes and hills he found to the northwest.

From here he would nearly reach the great valley without knowing it, and it was here in a lake he’d meet his defeat. This we know and this we’ve heard.

But a few things happened right beforehand, between the mountains that burn and his death, that merit remembering within Sharptooth's mind.

 ***

One, he met a few sharpteeth first. It was night, the night before his death, and he was sleepily walking around for a cave or a covered area to sleep in. Then he heard footsteps as big and loud as his, coming in a pair. One other sharptooth he could handle—two, nope. Not a chance.

He started to turn but they rounded the bend in front of him before he could. The male was a little shorter than the female—as was normal—and looked nearly just like himself. But Sharptooth knew he had a browner underbelly and darker green skin. This male almost was light green under and dark green on top, sometimes black in certain lights just like him. The female was olive and very impressive. She stood like she owned the world and he believed her without a second thought.

It had probably been a good year or two since he’d spoken. Like actually spoken. He opened his mouth to speak and only air came out. He coughed a few times and rubbed his mouth with his claws, and tried again.

“He-he-hello.”

His voice was very raspy, and nearly a whisper.

The female answered. “Hi. You are kind not to roar at us and start a fight you could not win.”

“I-I-I t-try not to b-be stu-stupid.” His throat was not cooperating at all.

The male spoke now. “How long have you been on your own?”

He must have known what it was like to lose one’s voice. Sharptooth answered. “Y-years.”

The couple exchanged glances and their expressions changed from stoic and hardened to soft and concerned. The female spoke again.

“I am Terra, this is Rahno. You are…?”

“Sh-sh-sharptooth.”

Terra cocked an eyebrow. “Well, yes, we all are. What is your name?”

Sharptooth didn’t answer and kept his gaze.

“Oh,” Rahno hummed. “Sharptooth, then. You don’t look very old, not much older than us, maybe. Where’s your family?”

Sharptooth held back a snarl. “Wh-where’s y-yours?”

Terra smirked. “Touché.”

“Y-you have n-nest? Can I sh-share? C-can hunt.”

They nodded back to him. “We’re looking for food right now,” Terra explained. “With three of us we could take a three horn.”

“If we can even find one,” Rahno said with a slump.

“D-dome h-heads in mountains.”

“Really?” Terra asked quickly. Sharptooth nodded and made a sniffing motion, and the other two followed suit. “He’s right, there are. Let’s go then.”

“D-d-dangerous. Lava.”

Rahno stopped mid step and laughed. “Can’t be that dangerous if the domeheads live there.”

So the three adult sharpteeth stalked and found a stray domehead leaving its cave in search of water. The sharpteeth drank the water it had found after they had shared the meat on the body. A waterfall nearby echoed in the night air warmed by the volcanoes.

“Where are you heading?” Terra asked after several gulps.

“W-west. Herds g-g-going th-that way.”

Rahno raised his head from the corpse. “What, to the great valley?”

Sharptooth cocked his head. “The wh-what?”

“The great valley,” Terra finished. “Leaf eaters gather there because it’s always green and full of water. But they don’t let sharpteeth in ever. The mountains are too hard for us to pass without being spotted and chased out. Believe me, we’ve tried.”

Sharptooth nearly pouted. Not truly, but his plan was now shot to pieces as if by the great sky lights. The electric ones.

“Wh-what d-do I d-do, then?”

The couple shrugged. “Stay with us?” Terra offered. “We stay around the valley, just not in it. It’s a little bleak right outside the valley, a couple tar pits and swamps, and back that way as you saw, the smoking mountains. But leaf eaters go to and fro the valley. So we get enough food. Rahno and I wanted to have a hatchling soon.”

Sharptooth raised an eyebrow and grinned toward Rahno. If sharpteeth can blush, he did.

“F-fun.”

“We just want what’s best for them when they get here.”

These two sure felt a lot of feelings, mused Sharptooth. It sounded like a lot of work. But they seemed happy though, maybe that was worth it. Or maybe it made it harder to cope with being a sharptooth. That definitely wasn’t something his parents ever went over, nor did they mention it to any of his siblings. He was the youngest of six—three had died as young ones from fast biters, and another died fighting a threehorn. Only him and his brother survived to adulthood, and he never got along with his brother. If the leaf eaters thought HE was ravenous and bloodthirsty, they would be shocked to ever behold his brother. As they continued to rest next to the body they’d picked clean Sharptooth’s mind thought on. He and his brother had fought only once—and he’d won much to the chagrin of the brother who had been bigger. The issue was Sharptooth was smarter and faster. Maybe it was because his brother felt too many feelings, like these two, Terra and Rahno. His lust for dominance may have lost him the fight, but Sharptooth hadn’t cared at the time, and he didn’t care now. It was just a fight for freedom at that point—his brother wanted to control him and he was having none of it.

Nobody was allowed to control him except him. Well, him, and his stomach, of course.

For now though, he could actually rest without keeping one eye open. Though now...he only had the one. Thankfully between Terra and Rahno there were 4 that had offered to keep him safe, at least for tonight. So Sharptooth finally rested.

Chapter 2: Tauro and the Boulder of Death

Summary:

No you don't get one you have to read it sorry
>:)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As Sharptooth relaxed and began to let his mind wander (a dangerous prospect he rarely let himself do), he thought more about the difference between his brother and his two new friends. These two, Terra and Rahno, didn’t seem like they wanted to control him like his brother had. They reminded him of one of the other sharpteeth he’d met a long time ago, another male. He was oddly interested in that male—his name had been Fang, he thought; he wasn’t sure. He was a pretty beautiful specimen; he had maroon scales and great horns on his head. Spikes lined his back and his tail was thick and strong. For once, Sharptooth had found himself outrun, and it was because of that they’d met in the first place. He had been chasing down a duckbill, one of the ones with the longer crests. It was probably the guard, he had assumed as his legs pushed him forward, and had alerted the herd too late. But it had remained to do its duty until his kin had escaped, and now it paid the price. This was one of the few times he felt a little guilty for killing this leaf eater, but he was hungry. And we know now what happens when Sharptooth is hungry. Just as he was about to grab its neck, though, this other male sharptooth snatched it out of his grasp and threw it to the ground. Confusion had hit him—nobody had ever done that, maybe besides his brother.

He’d skidded to a stop and watched the horned sharptooth rip the neck apart quickly. The big mouth felt no extended pain and died instantly. How noble. This wasn’t long after he had left his family, so his voice worked just fine.

“Hey, that was mine, you know.”

“You’re too slow, then,” he responded. “Get out of here, this kill’s mine.” He had already started eating it, going first for the thighs. Muscly but juicy. Not as filling as the guts, but tastier.

“I would’ve killed it if you hadn’t appeared out of nowhere.”

The red sharptooth shrugged. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Now Sharptooth was getting angry. He’d let it slide at first, because he rarely found purpose in getting all snarly and combative, but now… This sharptooth was testing him. He wasn’t much smaller than Sharptooth, but he was still smaller. It looked like it’d be hard to kill him by his neck though—the spikes and studs would make it difficult to latch on.

“Don’t even think about it,” the horned sharptooth threatened as he chewed, now looking straight at the upright Sharptooth. “I’ve killed many of your kind, and I’ll do it again.”

“My kind? You mean our kind?”

The other sharptooth shook his head. “No. You don’t have horns.”

Sharptooth looked up as if to see his own head. “No. So? I’ve got sharp teeth, don’t I?”

The other gave a humph and bent down to eat again. Sharptooth considered his options—he could ask nicely to share, fight him off, or find his own food again. But the chase had tired him; his legs were very strong, but not for long.

“We could share,” Sharptooth suggested, finally choosing an option.

“Mm-mm,” said the horned sharptooth.

“Why not?”

“It’s mine!”

“So?”

“I need to eat!”

“So do I.”

The horned sharptooth snarled and roared at him, snapping a few times, but Sharptooth had no reaction besides stepping back a little.

“How are you so calm about this?” the red sharptooth growled.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You could get hurt if we fought, I could even kill you. Is this worth that? Where are your instincts?”

Sharptooth scratched his neck with his right claw absentmindedly. “My instincts tell me it’s better to ask than to not. You might say yes, and then I won’t have to try to hunt again.”

“Why should I help you?”

“I’ll help you back.”

The horned sharptooth narrowed its eyes, blood dripping from his teeth and small jowls. Sharptooth found that oddly attractive, or maybe it wasn’t actually odd, they were sharpteeth after all. Blood on teeth meant some kind of kill, so there was at least some skill involved. Or luck.

“My name is Sharptooth.”

The red sharptooth pushed his chin back and smirked. “Your name is Sharptooth? Did your parents hate you?”

“No. Why?”

“That’s our species name.”

“So?”

“...”

“What’s your name then?”

“Tauro.”

Back in the present, as Sharptooth went over this memory, he snickered quietly to himself. His name was definitely not Fang, then. In the memory, he went on speaking.

“Because you’re a Carnotaur.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Should my name be Rexy then?”

Tauro quickly shook his head, shaking some blood off it. “Ew, no.” He stepped over the carcass and approached Sharptooth quietly, making no noise on the gravelly ground. This impressed Sharptooth. Many big sharpteeth had padded feet, but he’d found few who chose to use them like he did. Tauro seemed to be very special. Sharptooth continued to watch as Tauro reached him and began to sniff him. First the left side of his head, then his neck, and then walking around to his right side, his legs, his tail, and under his tail.

“Well?” Sharptooth asked emotionlessly. “Do I smell normal?”

“You smell like a Rex, yeah.”

“You smell like a Carnotaur.”

Tauro stood up tall and cocked his head. “You can smell me from there?”

Sharptooth nodded. “Rexes have the best sniffers. I thought everyone knew that.”

“The only Rex I ever met tried to kill me before I could even ask his name.”

Sharptooth let out a quick and soft snuffle as a sort of laugh. He’d met many a sharptooth like that, and seemed to remember he always just left with no fuss, unless he was hungry, then he got a little…testy. Even sailbacks who tended to be bigger than him would face some of his wrath if they pushed him far enough. Plated sharpteeth, though, the Gigas, no thanks. He’d only come across one—it was light green, not like Terra, more like the leaf eater food. It had ridges above its eyes, stood taller than him, and was more vicious. Sharptooth only let his viciousness come out when he was hungry, but he’d just eaten when this Giga passed him by. The Giga didn’t seem to care though and immediately started a fight. Or it tried to, anyway. Sharptooth just ran. He found no shame in running, no, that didn’t bother him. Living was more important than pride.

In the present, he felt his wounded eye try to open, and he shut it once the pain grew too fierce. Okay, maybe one or two things within his pride were important enough to endanger himself.

But with Tauro, he was never scared. As he got to know him while they talked next to the dead duckbill, he found he had a much rougher history than he had. Tauro’s parents were killed shortly after he’d started talking as a baby by two sailbacks. They’d brought their four kids along with them, and Tauro had suddenly found himself being chased by four small sailbacks. Only because of his speed did he get free by running into the thick underbrush of the forest, where sailbacks’ sails would inhibit them.

Of course, then his horns got stuck in a thicket and was in danger of anything bigger than him again.

“What about your siblings?” Sharptooth asked.

Tauro shook his head, stepping back over the carcass and starting to eat again. “Eggstealers killed them all. I was the only one born.”

Ouch, thought Sharptooth. That was rough, even for him. But now his stomach had growled louder, and his mind turned darker and feistier. He needed food soon, and despite how beautiful this Tauro was, he wasn’t pretty enough to not kill.

“Tauro, can I please at least have a bite?”

Tauro sighed and raised his head again, standing tall trying to meet Sharptooth’s height. He failed, but it was cute. “Fine. We can share.” He stepped to the side of the duckbill to leave space for the Rex. “Only because you said please.”

Sharptooth smiled and started eating on the opposite side. He rarely ever smiled unless something was funny, but he found himself happy enough to smile on his own. How odd, he had thought.

“I made room for you on this side, you know,” Tauro mumbled into the body.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scared.”

Tauro laughed, the vibration reaching Sharptooth’s muzzle in the body. “No, dumbass, you’re too cute to make me scared anymore.”

Sharptooth froze. What did he say? His brain shorted out and more or less gave up, but his mouth kept moving. Leave it to stomachs to keep the train moving in the background. For once his indifference had left him and he felt a weird pang in his chest. He’d never even considered having a partner before—kids weren’t something he really wanted, and males nor females seemed worth the energy to him. His own brother was a pain in the ass, why should anyone else be any better?

…right?

“Sharptooth?” Tauro questioned.

He didn’t answer. It had only been a second since Tauro had called him…you know…what he’d said, so why was he calling his name so early? His teeth kept grinding, which he realized was weird. He rarely chewed, why was he doing it now?

“Uh, Sharptoooooth?”

“Huh? What?”

“You, uh, disappeared for a minute there.”

Sharptooth lifted his head out of the carcass and looked at his body behind and under him. “I haven’t moved.”

“Your mind, bud. I saw it in your eyes, you went somewhere.”

Sharptooth furrowed the brows over his red eyes. How in the hell did Tauro know that? Sharptooth didn’t even know that.

“Is it because I called you cute?” Tauro asked much quieter.

Sharptooth shook his head to clear his thoughts and stood up straight. “Y-you are beautiful, too. I don’t see why stating facts should make me…uh, disappear, as you said.”

Tauro smiled and hopped over the carcass, standing side by side with Sharptooth, who watched him intently now. Like a flyer, but more like a Rex, knowing their vision was nearly the keenest of all. He noticed every twitch of muscle, rustling of skin, shine of spikes and horns in the setting light of the great circle. He saw Tauro’s eyes flick to his a few times as he lowered his head to eat more, and he could’ve sworn he saw the red shade in Tauro’s face grow darker.

“You’re staring like you want to eat me,” Tauro hummed with a mouthful.

“I…uh. No.”

“Do you have a mate?”

Sharptooth shook his head, probably quicker than he meant to.

Tauro smirked and stood up. “Do you want one?”

Sharptooth got lost in Tauro’s eyes and nodded involuntarily. Fear coursed through him for a reason he had no explanation for, and he stepped back with one foot. He almost tripped.

“Sharptooth?”

“I, um. I would like one, yes. Though I don’t think I want children.”

“I don’t either.”

“O-oh.”

Tauro rolled his eyes a little and walked up to Sharptooth and immediately started muzzling up against his neck. Sharptooth froze again—with those horns he could kill Sharptooth instantly, but…he wasn’t rough. His skin was bumpy and pointy, sure, but Sharptooth’s hide was tough. The warmth felt…nice, but very tingly. It had been a very long time since he’d touched another animal without eating it.

“Sharptooth? You alright?”

He realized he hadn’t moved again, and probably was making Tauro think he wasn’t interested. But, oh, was he interested. So he moved his head to the right side of Tauro’s stout muzzle and pushed back gently, trying to avoid getting stabbed in the eye with a horn. He’d hate to lose an eye.

“Oh, you are interested,” Tauro said with closed eyes and a smile.

“I’m not good at feelings,” Sharptooth admitted as they cuddled as only sharpteeth did. They stood up taller again and started circling each other slowly, scanning each other up and down. If Tauro had any doubts about whether Sharptooth had instincts or not, they were gone now. He courted like a pro.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” Tauro asked as they moved close to press their chests together. If they were competing males, this would’ve been a much rougher contact, pushing hard against each other to see who could make the other lose ground. But it wasn’t a competition, and they weren’t competing males. This touch was gentle and vulnerable—it would have been easy for Tauro to bend down and gore Sharptooth, or for Sharptooth to grab Tauro by his neck and crush him.

“I have not.”

“You’re really good at it.”

Sharptooth lowered his head and flagged his tail up, swaying it back and forth. Tauro did the same, but his tail stayed rigid and he had to move his entire waist to sway.

“My tail isn’t flexible,” he explained. “None of the Carnotaurs’ are.”

Sharptooth broke the court and stood up to look back at his own tail and curl it around. It was very flexible, almost prehensile. Interesting, he thought.

“Sharptooth,” Tauro laughed. “Focus.”

“Oh, right.”

They continued to dance with each other, and Tauro lifted his head up to expose his neck and wiggle his very small arms around. The undersides were a dazzling green, like a rock Sharptooth had once seen deep in a cave, and they entranced him. His arms surely did not have such beauty or purpose. But he thought how to repay the gesture nonetheless, and decided maybe his shiny claws would do it. So he extended up too and caught a few red glows of the great circle on his claws. They shone like fire to Tauro’s emerald green arms.

“I didn’t know Rexes could do that.”

“I didn’t know Carnotaurs could do that.”

Then they turned and put their tails side by side, facing away from each other, and slid together, walking backwards into each other. Tauro’s skin was poky and rubbed harshly against Sharptooth’s smooth leathery scales, but he didn’t care. It felt good, and made him all tingly again. Tauro loved how soft Sharptooth felt, and wanted to bury his face in every part of him to feel the smoothness.

Then Sharptooth knew it was time for a very vulnerable part of the ritual. He didn’t think twice about it and moved without thought—he laid down on the ground and rolled over, feet up and belly and neck exposed. Tauro walked over silently, using the foot pads again, and began to inspect Sharptooth.

Wow would it have been easy for him to kill Sharptooth in this position. True, Sharptooth could kick the shit out of Tauro and launch him into a tree, but if he avoided that, Sharptooth would be all but dead. However Tauro had no intention of killing Sharptooth, and began to sniff again. He reached Sharptooth’s neck again and started to gently lick the skin. It was so even, his tongue was rougher than it. Heat grew in Sharptooth that confused him intensely. Where was it coming from? Why was it there? What was it supposed to do? Was Tauro feeling it too?

“You taste good.”

“I hope the fuck I don’t,” Sharptooth swore.

Tauro laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Not like that, beautiful.”

“Oh. Good.”

Tauro nodded with a smile and moved down his body to his pelvis. Sharptooth’s heat exploded when Tauro started to lick around his cloaca. Of course, Sharptooth had bathed himself, licking his body clean wherever he could reach, but NEVER had this happened.

“Wh-whoa.”

“What?” Tauro asked, stopping.

“It feels…weird.”

“Good weird?”

Sharptooth nodded, nostrils flaring.

“Should I stop?”

He shook his head no. So Tauro went on, and time passed too quickly for Sharptooth before he zoned out again, accidentally retreating into his thoughts. The indifference he brandished so often was nowhere to be seen for some reason, and in its place he felt an intense longing for Tauro.

So he slowly rolled over and gently pushed Tauro off with his legs.

“What’s wrong?” Tauro asked with a fearful waver.

“Your turn.”

Tauro dropped his jaw a little and stepped back. “O-okay.” And he rolled onto the ground in the same position Sharptooth had, and Sharptooth copied Tauro’s movements exactly. He found that Tauro liked a few different things than Sharptooth did, but their relationship had solidified into matehood now. There was one thing left they could do, if they wanted, but Sharptooth was a little confused on how it would work. Luckily Tauro already knew how, and he showed Sharptooth with patience and care.

“Oh, wow,” Sharptooth said flatly as he was shown. “I didn’t know we could even do that.”

Tauro held back a moan. “Sh-Sharptooth, f-focus,” he groaned, and his tongue flopped out between his sharp teeth.

“Oh, right, sorry. Is this good?”

Tauro nodded furiously and Sharptooth saw the horns on his head fly up and down in front of him.

“Rexes tend to do…something…during this.”

“Wh-what is i-it? Shit,” Tauro slurred, very distracted.

“We bite the lower neck, mostly to hold on, but also…sometimes it feels…you know. I mean, I don’t know because I’ve never been bit nor bitten someone. Nor heard anything about it from anyone, I—”

“Just do it, Sharpie,” Tauro commanded breathily.

So he bit down on the base of Tauro’s neck and immediately Tauro groaned loudly, raising his tail up higher and bending down farther.

“Good?” Sharptooth mumbled with his teeth pushing down into Tauro’s bumpy skin.

“V-very.”

“Good.” In a moment of pride, Sharptooth liked how gentle he had to be due to his intense bite force strength. He knew he would puncture Tauro easily and break bone if he pushed hard enough, but he had less than zero desire to do that to Tauro. He started to wonder what they would do after this—would they stay together and travel? Would they try to combine territory? He then wondered if any other sharpteeth mated with other sharpteeth species, if this would be weird to anyone else. His trademark indifference returned though, and he stopped caring immediately. He liked Tauro, and that was plenty.

“F-fuck, Sharpie.”

“Sharpie?”

“D-don’t like it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s kind of…cute.”

“Y-you’re cute.”

“You are too.”

The sun set and the night stars illuminated the end of their ritual as they finished. Sharpteeth didn’t lose much energy after rituals, but Tauro and Sharptooth decided it was a good time to find a nest or cave and rest together. On the way Sharptooth started asking his questions.

“Are we mates now?”

“I would hope so,” Tauro laughed and nuzzled up into Sharptooth.

“Is this your territory?”

Tauro shook his head. “Just passing through. Is it yours?”

He shook his head too. “I got chased out of mine.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I didn’t care. She was far too fierce for me to challenge.”

Tauro snickered and bumped Sharptooth with his shoulder. “More fierce than you? I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not fierce unless I have to be.”

“I beg to differ,” Tauro smirked and snuck his tail up underneath Sharptooth’s until it hit his pelvis.

“Besides that. When I get hungry, it’s not a good idea to be around me.”

Tauro narrowed his eyes as they walked, both using their foot pads to stay quiet. He looked at Sharptooth’s skin, noticing that he looked black in the night. Besides his ruby red eyes, his body almost slid into the background of the forest. That would become very useful for hunting, and the security appealed to Tauro, but he needed to clarify what Sharptooth said.

“What do you mean, Sharpie? You were hungry when we met earlier today.”

“That’s why I asked to share. It was my last attempt at being nice.”

Their feet kept padding on the dry forest floor, crunching some dead leaves.

“What would you have done if I’d said no?”

“Probably fought you off to eat the duckbill. Maybe killed you.”

“Sharptooth…”

He shrugged back. “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just the truth. I don’t lie.”

Tauro huffed calmly and gently bit at Sharptooth’s neck. “I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”

“Me too.”

They reached the edge of the forest where the land hilled into mountains. Sharptooth had always seen these mountains far away, from where he had been born he had looked at them curiously. What lay inside them and who had decided to live here? They might be cold inside, or warm, having cold water and plants, or completely barren. Now they looked very appealing as a nest place for him and his new mate. They would probably need a decent size cave, he reasoned, since they were both big sharpteeth, and they probably couldn’t stay there for long—if this was another sharptooth’s territory they’d need to leave or challenge, and Sharptooth didn’t like the idea of Tauro getting injured.

“We’ll need to leave tomorrow,” Sharptooth stated as they climbed up the foothills to a cave they spotted.

“I know. Where should we go?”

“South is where I came from, and I’d rather not go back there. My brother still prowls around.”

“Your brother?”

“Mhm. My parents called him Bataar or Tarbo. But he got into an accident when I was very little and his left eye turned red with a scar that reached all the way down to his claw.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, it was terrifying. But I started calling him Red Claw.”

Tauro didn’t comment on the fact that baby Sharptooth named his brother on his likely insecure injury.

“I figured since I was called Sharptooth because of my sharp teeth, he should also have a name like me. I thought it would make us closer.”

“Aww…”

“But of course, he hated it.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t start calling me Ivory Horn. Though actually that doesn’t sound too bad, it’s kind of pretty.”

Sharptooth smiled toothily. “I could just stick to Ivory, like how you did with Sharpie. Same style of nickname, right?”

“Just don’t call me Hornie.”

Sharptooth and Tauro climbed up into a large cave mouth and started pushing rocks aside to make space for them to sleep. A few cave plants ended up making pretty good ground covers and they laid side by side and cuddled into each other.

“You are horny, though.”

“Sharptooth!”

“What? You are!”

Tauro blushed and exhaled through his nose, trying very hard not to smile, especially because he knew Sharptooth was smirking without exposing his teeth. Tauro had a curved mouth which made it a little hard to smile without exposing his teeth, and for some reason it was so sexy when Sharptooth did it.

“Fine.”

“I like it. I didn’t realize I could ever feel…um…”

Tauro side eyed Sharptooth eagerly. “Feel…?”

“Um. That-that good.”

Tauro lifted his head and laid it on Sharptooth’s. “Oh, I haven’t shown you anything yet, Sharpie.”

“Then let’s make sure we find a territory with enough food in it so we can live long.”

“What, why?”

“So you can show me everything.”

Tauro’s eyes widened. “O-oh. O-okay…”

***

“Sharptooth,” a male voice called.

“Huh?” he stirred, seeing the great circle rise in his eyes. He looked at the male sharptooth and was disappointed, at first he didn’t know why. Then he remembered his dreams. This was Rahno, not Tauro. He sighed and stood up. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Terra said with a smile. “I think Rahno and I will keep moving on. Do you think you will join us?”

Sharptooth took a big inhale to stabilize his breathing, smelling all the areas around them as he tended to do in the morning. He had decided last night that he would travel with the two, maybe even help them look after their future child. He didn’t want the child to have to be parentless like he accidentally made that baby longneck. But he had already set aside that guilt—the earthquake had killed that adult more than he had. That was what he told himself.

But a scent on the wind changed his mind immediately. He smelled that longneck child, the threehorn, and the others. For the first time, his anger rose without hunger accompanying it. He became furious as he felt the pain in his right eye swell.

“I have something to take care of first.” He turned up to the rocky and broken hills that led toward the great valley. “I’ll meet you after.”

“Alright,” Terra said, nuzzling him gently. Rahno followed suit and nuzzled the other side of Sharptooth. Their skin was smooth like his, and he found himself wanting to feel bumps and pokes. “Just follow our scent when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

And Sharptooth left them, climbing up the hills, hopping from rock to rock until he got to the top of the mountain, seeing a tunnel through to the other side. He hadn’t found the kids yet, but he knew if they were going to the great valley they’d have to pass through here.

Then he heard a shrill scream and he barked back, looking around and sniffing. It was a duckbill, the smallest one, and he silently climbed up the wall of the cave and dropped behind her with a crash. But she was faster than he thought and he slid down the hill chomping at her. If he couldn’t kill the one who destroyed his eye, he could at least wound him by killing his friend.

We know what happened next. And so did Sharptooth.

 

The rock had fallen hard onto his chest and had broken his grip on the baby flier, knocking him out immediately. He fell slowly, for what the leaf eaters had felt like was hours, plenty of time for the flier to catch up to them and for them to enter the great valley. He sank to the bottom of the pond and a sharp rock punctured his back, waking him up. He kicked hard to the surface and screamed. His chest roared at him in pain louder than he ever had, throbbing from his lungs and his heart. He threw up what felt like a gallon of water before he dragged himself to the edge of the pond. Finally his brain returned after his survival needs had barely been met. The pain was strong and he was sure that he would die—a hit that hard was stronger than the impact he felt from falling into the big underground. Actual hours passed and the pain barely subsided, completely immobilizing Sharptooth. He wasn’t bleeding anywhere, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Alright, he thought, that’s enough revenge. Forget the long neck, you already killed his mother, you more than made it even already. Let him go.

And he had no arguments and no resistance to his conscience. He forgave the longneck immediately, for how else could the longneck respond other than trying to kill someone who was still hunting him? Sharptooth would absolutely defend himself, and perhaps the baby longneck was even wiser than he was by not letting his anger control him.

He was left with these thoughts while the pain kept him down on the ground. By nightfall he heard snarling and snapping of teeth. The chittering echoed against the rocky curves of the mountain nearby. Fast biters, then. He couldn’t smell anything because he couldn’t get a deep enough breath nor could he remotely focus on his sense of smell. He’d have to stand somehow or he would die for certain. The fast biters finally showed up, four of them with quills and feathers.

“Oh, shit,” Sharptooth breathed heavily. It was the same small pack that he’d picked one off of. They had gotten very lucky to have found him here, unless they tracked him specifically. He wouldn’t put it past them, to be honest. Nothing surprised him after the rock smashed him underwater.

They snarled and hissed as they surrounded him. Contrary to other scaly fast biters, these were larger, much more suited for hunting in packs as each could kill on their own. If he didn’t stand he was dead. He’d said that to himself already, but his legs didn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but keep gasping for air. This must be the true end of Sharptooth.

Of Sharpie.

Perhaps he deserved this after what he did to the longneck and his mother. He’d escaped death once when he shouldn’t have falling into the great crack. This was it for him, and he was not angry at all. What goes around comes around. The first fast biter jumped up on his back and bit down, right where he’d bitten the adult longneck. He roared in pain and tried to roll, but his vision blurred and he just kept breathing. This was going to hurt, and it was going to take a long time. He may have believed he deserved to die, but this was pushing it. However his anger did not rise to deal out the justice he believed in when dinosaurs tried to control him. This time he remained neutral and prayed to the night circle that it would be over soon.

A strong roar jerked all their attention to the east. The pond bordered a steep hill and blocked the view of anyone approaching. Sharptooth and the raptors had frozen, and Sharptooth couldn’t see who was coming because he was stuck on his blind side. But his nose finally pulled its weight and gave him information. He knew this scent, though it was very new. He smelled its counterpart and he hoped they would hurry. His guilt and defeat left him and he struggled again to rise and survive, this time without any vengeance.

“T-Terra!” he screeched with several coughs after.

The huge female sharptooth pounded into sight of the raptors and she bit one in half before scattering the rest. Rahno followed behind and stood next to Sharptooth, roaring loudly to back up his powerful wife.

“We’re here, Sharptooth, don’t worry,” Rahno assured.

“Th-thanks.”

Minutes passed and the fast biters left, and Terra returned with the half body of the fast biter she’d killed and set it in front of Sharptooth.

“What happened?” she asked.

“The-the kids, they dropped a boulder on me and nearly drowned me. I think they—” he coughed violently, spitting up more water. “They broke my chest.”

Terra looked worriedly at Rahno and then back to Sharptooth. “You’re not bleeding, though.”

“He might be bleeding on the inside,” Rahno said gravely. “We can stay with you until…you…”

“I don’t want to die,” Sharptooth all but whispered, his voice breaking.

The other two sharpteeth laid next to their new friend and huddled into him, hoping beyond hope that their warmth would save him. Sharptooth’s skin felt lava hot against the other two, and their worries increased as he stopped opening his eyes. His consistent rapid breathing was the only thing that kept their hope going. They’d just met him but he’d shared so much about himself last night, they felt close. When they asked about Tauro again today, just before they left, he was confused how they knew his name. Terra and Rahno imagined that Sharptooth didn’t even mean to tell them, but he did nonetheless. Terra had had a brother with a male mate, and Rahno had two female parents who cared for him. It was normal in all animal species to have same sex relationships, but there were always some sharpteeth who opposed it. A minority, but a dangerous minority. But more than that, they’d found Sharptooth endearing. He was clearly very straightforward and largely indifferent but never cruel. Well, they remembered, unless he was hungry. Sharptooth had told them what had happened during the earthquake, that he did remember as he sat there gasping, and Terra and Rahno had more sympathy than anger for what happened to the little longneck. The fact that Sharptooth even gave it a second thought was better than most hungry sharpteeth, even them.

Terra had almost fallen beneath a great rockslide, but Rahno had pulled her by his teeth out of the way, and thus promised Sharptooth the bite gash on her back was from a trusted source not a foe. At the time last night, it reminded Sharptooth of when he’d bitten into Tauro’s back…several times. And when he’d bitten into Sharptooth’s…also several times.

Now as Sharptooth gasped with eyes shut he thought of Tauro and how long it’d been since he saw him. How they’d gotten separated, how scary that was, and how he’d never been that scared before or since. He couldn’t even relive it, he forced himself not to and to focus on breathing deep regardless of how much it hurt. He wasn’t coughing up blood, that was still a decent sign.

“Sharptooth,” Rahno mumbled.

“Hmm,” Sharptooth hummed.

“What do you want us to do with…with your body if you…”

“If you die,” Terra finished sadly.

“Push it into the lake. I should’ve died there already.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Rahno demanded. “You’re going to pull through, I command it.”

Sharptooth scoffed with a smile. “I’ve never been good at being controlled.” He gasped several times in a row and threw up more water mixed with last night’s dinner. “Terra, Rahno, I have to warn you about someone.”

“What?” Terra asked. “Who?”

“My-my brother. If you EVER run into him, you have to leave.” He could barely talk with the small amount of air he breathed.

“Shh, Sharptooth,” Rahno reassured, “don’t overexert yourself. Terra’s strong and so am I, we can fend for ourselves.”

Sharptooth shook his head, which surprised him that he had enough strength to do so. “He’s cruel, and he has a habit of recruiting fast biters.”

“Tell me, then,” Terra said solemnly.

“His name, to me, is Red Claw.” He spoke very slowly and took his time to breathe, still gasping. “His left eye is scarred, like my right is. His scar goes down to his left claw. He’s tan, and older, and so smarter and wiser. Don’t fight him, I didn’t even bother. If I were with you, we’d probably be fine, but I won’t.”

“What do you mean, yes, you will,” Rahno said with a waver in his voice.

“We just met, how can you care for me so?” Sharptooth said with a melancholy laugh.

“Few would help two large sharpteeth find food and promise to help take care of their future child,” Terra answered.

“What, I don’t remember saying that.” He remembered thinking it, but maybe he’d said it last night when he was so tired he didn’t remember falling asleep.

“Well,” Rahno continued, “you did. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did,” assured Sharptooth, “but I don’t think I’ll…”

“You will,” Terra declared. “You will be with us.”

Sharptooth gasped louder and harder, feeling his chest crackle and cough. His chest squeezed tighter and he threw up again. The pain lessened but his consciousness started fading.

“I’ll be with you, even if you can’t see me.”

“Don’t you dare—” Rahno started, pushing into Sharptooth’s head with his own.

“We will always see you,” Terra nearly sobbed, convincing no one but herself.

“Just promise me you won’t let your child give into revenge. It sneaks in and whispers terrible things, so…”

He coughed and his whole body contracted—he roared in pain and Terra and Rahno howled sadly. The sleepy darkness tugged at Sharptooth, but he was determined to give this last piece of advice, so after several more gasps he finally spoke.

“So listen closely,” Sharptooth whispered, and his consciousness drifted off. He couldn’t see or feel Terra and Rahno anymore. His last smell was from the tears falling from their eyes.

Notes:

wow so to be so for real I didn't actually mean to write sharptooth sex? It just kinda happened?????

Also, if you didn't get it, yes the Carnotaur is based on the Disney model, but kinda mixed with the real carnotaurus. As in, still bulkier and taller than normal, but not so much that it can't run fast, and not so strong that it can do whatever a t rex can do.

also HA yes of course sharptooth crawls out of the stupid lake. but is he still gonna live? i dunno lemme write it first lmao

Chapter 3: Love and the Air

Summary:

Do sharpteeth have a heaven and hell—a nirvana or afterlife of reincarnation?

Nothingness? Dunno don’t care this bitch has things to do!

Anyway. Back to the regularly scheduled program.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Wind. He felt wind. It brought air to his face, flowing around him tracing the curves on his head and neck. Very strange. Far stranger was that he couldn’t smell. The air was definitely entering his nose, but his senses wouldn’t activate. This irritated him. He tried to open his left eye and found that both eyes opened widely, and he could see out of both.

Very odd.

He couldn’t move anything else though. Wherever he was, it held him in place. He saw something that didn’t make a lot of sense to him. The air moved and he could SEE it. It was ethereal, fuzzy, and…pink? Pink and blue and green and red. And colors neither you nor I could ever see. It was a wondrous sight for him, but after some time he began to fear the inevitable. His body refused to move so he stopped trying. His nose refused to smell so he gave up.

He was dead.

That was what he decided. This was death for him. No smell and no movement, but he could see with both eyes, and finally he was not hungry anymore. It was calming enough, he admitted, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be here forever. Wherever here was. His heart, or whatever panged inside him, was heavy though. He wanted to live—he’d finally freed himself from the revenge he sought out. That he stupidly sought out, he corrected. And to be fair it was really that baby longneck who freed him. Sure he’d meant to kill Sharptooth, and he supposed that the longneck had succeeded after all, but he freed him. He just wished he’d met Terra and Rahno earlier. Maybe even before he and Tauro were separated—maybe then they wouldn’t even have BEEN separated. They would’ve made a nice little family. That would’ve been nice, and maybe Sharptooth’s indifference would fade.

This surprised him—never had he wanted the indifference to fade before, yet for some reason now, when faced with the eternal, he found himself wanting to feel again. He wasn’t even sure when the last time he had felt was, but then it hit him. Rather obviously.

Tauro. It was Tauro.

He missed Tauro, desperately. He wanted him to meet Terra and Rahno, and then he wished Tauro could meet other Carnotaurs. It sucks being alone, even if you’re surrounded by others who are just barely not like you. Tauro had explained that to him once, about a year after they met, when Sharptooth had once again asked why it was so different for him not to be a horned sharptooth. There were other horned sharpteeth after all, but only the ones with two horns above their eyes did Tauro count as like him. Sharptooth knew Tauro never meant any harm but he couldn’t help feeling less than. He couldn’t help but feel.

Feel. He didn’t do that. He didn’t do feelings. As soon as Tauro disappeared Sharptooth went back to no feelings, and it was much easier. But it was very lonely.

Finally he heard a voice in the pastel air. It sounded suspiciously like the one he was just remembering.

“Sharpie.”

“Tauro!” His voice bursted out with great power.

“Hey, Sharpie,” Tauro said with a smile, appearing slowly into the wispy air. Not fully solid, but easy to see. He slowly walked to Sharptooth and nuzzled his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be. But, wait. If you’re here, does that mean you’re…”

Tauro shook his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What do I do then?”

Tauro pushed Sharptooth’s thick torso and helped him up. As if a spell was broken, Sharptooth could move again. He immediately embraced Tauro, almost knocking him over.

“Whoa, Sharpie!” Tauro laughed. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“How do I come see you? The real you. I want to get out of here.”

Tauro looked down, and Sharptooth recognized that face immediately. It was not a happy face and it never meant anything good.

“Am I … stuck here?”

Tauro shook his head. “No, Sharpie, but you’ll lose your eye again. And…”

“And?”

Tauro sighed. “You have to give up your smell.”

Sharptooth aptly snorted. “What, why?!”

The Carnotaur shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. If I had to guess, I bet the water damaged your nose.”

“The…water?”

Tauro raised an eyebrow, or really the small bumps that lined and circled his eyes.

“Oh the water. From the lake.”

“Mhmm. Is it worth it for you?”

Sharptooth pushed against Tauro’s cheek. “To see you again? Absolutely. And the two new sharpteeth I met—I want you to meet them. I think we could be…a family. Maybe. I don’t know. You know I’m not good at this feelings stuff.”

Tauro smiled and caressed him back. But he did whisper. “What about Red Claw?”

“What about him?” returned Sharptooth, pulling back.

“Isn’t he your family too?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tauro smirked. “Very well. I hope to see you soon then.”

Then the air turned bright red, and pushed against Sharptooth hard. Immediately his feet slipped and he had to dig his claws in with all his might to stay put.

“Tauro!”

“Let go, my love. Let it take you.”

“I don’t want to die!” His legs shook with effort. He couldn’t lose Tauro again.

Tauro shocked Sharptooth by laughing, and it knocked him off balance. He fell back with the strong wind and heeded his mate by letting go.

“You won’t, Sharptooth!”

“I love—“ Sharptooth started, but all went black before he could finish.

***

The air was now cold and harsh. He gasped awake, pushing hard against the ground and bolting to his feet unsteadily.

“RRRRRAAAHHHHHHH!” he screeched. He hadn’t roared like this since he’d fallen off the great cliff. All his air returned to him at once and exploded out of him. He thrashed about and at once tripped over something tough but bendable. His body crashed into the ground and he peered up into the night. The stars shone beautifully, and he saw the cliffs he’d died near to his left.

Wait, he wasn’t dead though.

He…he was alive!

“Sharptooth!” a voice called to him right nearby. It was Terra. “You’re-you’re alive?!”

He snuffled, expelling a bit more water out of his nose. And as expected, when he inhaled again, he smelled nothing.

“Yes. You sound surprised.”

“Sharptooth, you died,” Rahno said from Sharptooth’s other side. They were both very close to him, and looking down, he realized that what he had tripped over was Rahno’s tail.

“You both are…close to me.”

“We stayed by you all night. Even after you stopped breathing.” Terra rubbed Sharptooth’s neck with hers. “I think we might have gotten a little too close knit in one day with you dying on us after swearing loyalty to protect our future kid, don’t you think?”

Rahno and Sharptooth laughed.

“You might wanna get on making that kid then,” Sharptooth said with a smirk. “Who knows when I might just die again. I’ve come back twice now, third time I might stay permanently.”

Rahno stepped over to Terra and pointed behind Sharptooth. “What about the great valley and those kids?”

“I’m done with all that. Our debt is settled on my account.”

They smiled at him and motioned for them to descend the hill. He looked back and took one last gaze at the lake. He saw where they had pushed the boulder, up on the ledge. He remembered jumping up there somehow, with all his strength, and biting at the little ones. Then the three horn had been the one to topple him. Without her he probably would’ve eaten them all. And then where would he be now? Empty and purposeless probably. That’s what he imagined Tauro would say.

“I need to be alone for a bit,” he said quietly as they reached the bottom of the hills. “Where’s your nest?”

“Alone?” Terra questioned. “Everything okay?”

Sharptooth shrugged. “No, but that’s why I want time. I have some things to think about. I do want to stay with you though.”

Rahno bumped Sharptooth’s shoulder—hard as a brother would. “It’s up by the tarpits. You can’t miss it if you just follow the great valley border north of here. The Great Wall has a divot nearby where a rockslide blocks it shut.”

Sharptooth huffed smugly. “Raising a kid by tarpits might not be the best idea, guys.”

Rahno rolled his eyes and turned to head to their nest. “Says the Sharptooth who just died.”

Terra laughed and stopped, embarrassed. “S-sorry, Sharptooth.”

He smiled. “Nah, it was funny. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. That way you have time to…you know.”

“I can still hear you!” Rahno yelled with his back turned and his legs carrying him on.

Terra and Sharptooth laughed. “Be gentle with him,” Sharptooth joked. “He looks fragile.”

“Oh, no, my dear,” Terra purred, “he likes it rough.”

A cheeky warmth spread through Sharptooth and a blush reached his face. He flicked his tail nervously.

“H-how exactly…does that work? With him…being the one who…”

“Oh, we don’t always stand up when it happens. You haven’t…?”

Sharptooth shook his head. “No I have. Just not with a female.”

She nodded back. “That’s right. Tauro. You’re going to go find him aren’t you?”

“Not right now, but soon. I’d love for you to come, actually. I’ll wait until the kid is born if that’s easier for you.”

“I’m not even pregnant yet!” she laughed, and went on, “plus with luck it’ll be six or seven kids. You’ll have your hands full as an uncle.”

An uncle, he repeated in his head. That had a soft ring to it that made him feel warm and fuzzy. All of these feelings again, his indifference fading, it was terrifying. He kind of hated it, but he knew Tauro would be proud of him.

But an old friend rebranded as a new enemy reared its ugly head inside Sharptooth. He was getting hungry. As Terra walked away he battled inside himself with what to do. The last time he was hungry he’d acted a fool and a half.

“Terra.”

She turned back.

“H-how do you…how do you stop hunger from turning you into a monster?”

She cocked her head and admitted she didn’t quite understand. She needed more explanation.

“I just,” Sharptooth went on, “something awakens inside me. It’s the reason I…went after those kids. I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to BE that anymore.”

“Hmm,” she pondered. “Give me some time. I’ll talk to Rahno about it, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

“You’re both still very nice to me given we met yesterday.”

She shrugged. “If you betray us we’ll kill you, so, what’s the harm?”

“Fair,” he chuckled, and watched her walk away toward Rahno who was waiting for her.

“I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded and turned, padding his way to the east, looking into the wastes he came through to get here. The smoking mounts still coughed out smog in the distance, and farther back, the craggy earth that had exploded after the earthquake. The great crack in the earth was too far to see, but he could see it easily in his mind. He remembered its smell too, even if he couldn’t smell it any longer. His one eye and two ears were the only things that let him sense beyond his own body.

How was he going to hunt now? Well, now would be a good time to find out. He couldn’t smell prey anymore, but there were plenty of other signs. Tracks on the ground, broken trees, empty nests, sounds galore. But smelling was the longest distance tracker, and he knew his life just became exponentially harder. At least he was alive though.

His feet carried him to another watering hole, where he knew leaf eaters liked to hang out. Not like they had a choice—everyone has to drink.

He hid behind large boulders, quiet and leering. Another dome head was hydrating and bathing in the water. At the very least, his sense of smell disappearing didn’t affect his ability to fight and ambush. He realized how much he started to hear while his smell was gone—he heard noises that triangulated positions much like his smell did albeit with much less intensity. This would be useful if he had time to hone it. For now though, it was time to strike. He lurched forward and in three steps reached the domehead, snatching it out of the water and breaking its neck immediately. Moments later he killed his hunger, and started dragging the rest of it to where Terra had told him the nest was. He knew it would take him a long time while he was carrying the body, so he had plenty of time to think. Plus, this would be a good thanks to his new friends for staying by his side after he’d gone down.

He did begin to worry about one thing, though. What would happen if any of the leaf eater kids saw him again and recognized him? Now that, presumably, they were with their adult families, they might come kill him for real. And if he were with Terra and Rahno, they’d be in danger too. Not to mention the horrors he imagined would befall the baby sharpteeth if they were wandering around on their tiny feet by then. No, he would not allow that.

But that little longneck was very persistent, and Sharptooth had killed its mother. Even he wouldn’t resist that call to revenge—well, he would now, knowing the consequences. Further, he doubted the longneck’s family, should any remain, would find it safe to just let Sharptooth stalk around the outside of the valley. Maybe it would be better if he and Terra and Rahno left. Or maybe it would be better if HE just left.

The body he dragged snagged several times on rocks, sometimes tearing a chunk or too off. He didn’t want to do this because it always made his lower jaw hurt, but he was getting tired of dragging—he held the whole body in his mouth and pressed on that way. About two or three hours later he found the tar pits. An enormous skeleton of a sharptooth sat above the nest where he could see Terra and Rahno…um. Doing ritual things. Sharptooth averted his eyes and focused on getting to the precariously positioned nest. He made loud enough noises as he did so the couple…coupling…would hear and finish.

He heard Rahno howl a little and imagined that was it. Minutes later he dropped the body in front of them.

“Post sex meal?”

“Perfect,” Rahno said and dove in. Terra followed close behind.

Yeah, he could get used to living with these two. They’d never let him down, he just knew it.

Notes:

Haha no he’s not dead of course he’s not dead!!!!

Not when the magic of a queer Carnotaur can save him!!!!!

Guess whose little baby egg is coming sooooooon? Truly no clue how much time is supposed to have passed between LBT1 and LBT2. Could be a year could be 7 days for all I know.

Chapter 4: Outside the Great Valley

Summary:

why is it the mysterious beyond even if you've never lived in the great valley????

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A few weeks passed. Terra was pregnant with a clutch of eggs, and both Sharptooth and Rahno pulled double shifts hunting for her to make sure she got enough food to grow them to their greatest size with the best chance for life. Terra had insisted several times that she was perfectly capable of hunting on her own, much less that she needed Sharptooth and Rahno to do it FOR her, but when the servants of the queen do their jobs, far be it for her to stop them. So she relished in the care they gave her, and in the meantime Rahno was helping Sharptooth learn how to hunt using only his eyes, ears, and the vibrations in the earth.

“This sucks,” Sharptooth grumbled as they tracked a group of spiketails who had just left the valley. “I miss smelling.”

Rahno laughed and teased him easily. “That’s what you get for trying to kill kids on the edge of a cliff. A cliff above a deep lake, no less.”

“Rude.”

“Look, the farwalkers are heading to the mountains.” Rahno pointed with his small claws and motioned for Sharptooth to listen.

He turned his head and closed his other eye, concentrating. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed quietly in the distance, along with the sounds of the wind, Rahno’s breathing, his own, and even a few buzzing buzzers. These footsteps though, he could tell they were not longnecks—too fast; their legs were shorter. Not threehorns, too heavy. They could’ve been clubtails had Sharptooth not seen them first. As he listened he heard a few sets of smaller footsteps. Juveniles.

“Do you smell them?”

Rahno nodded. “About four juveniles.”

“What would Terra tell us to do here, do you think?”

Rahno hummed and started pacing silently, never taking his eyes off the farwalkers in the distance. “I bet she’d tell us to follow them until nightfall and pick one off after we sowed chaos waking them up. But we can’t drag the body back up to the nest.”

“Oh, come now, with the two of us, as strong as we are? Strong male specimens?”

Rahno rolled his eyes and bopped Sharptooth with the end of his tail. “You’re lucky I find you interesting.”

Sharptooth smiled with all his teeth and nodded his head to the herd. The two adults quietly descended their little vantage point and moved to pursue them behind the cover of the jagged rocks in the Mysterious Beyond. Truthfully, he was new to that name. The Mysterious Beyond. Having never lived in the apparently “not Mysterious Beyond,” this land never had a name for him. It was just, the land. The earth. True, it wasn’t where he was born, and it wasn’t near where he lived when the earthquake hit, but for all the world outside of the Great Valley to be called the Mysterious Beyond felt a little…silly, to say the least. There were valleys just as good as this one out there, and swamps and forests and mountains too. Even some of the cold places had areas as beautiful and habitable. As he and Rahno kept moving, they stayed quiet, so Sharptooth continued to be left with his own thoughts. It didn’t bother him though, he was used to it. How else did he expect to have lost his voice until recently? He was very good at talking to himself in his mind, reviewing memories and experiences, so he remembered a few times where he had gone north enough to see a cold time. This far south, the frozen water falls didn’t last long if they even showed up at all. But there had been once when he’d gone up, traveling more for fun than anything else, and he hadn’t been alone. Before allowing himself to revisit this memory, he breathed deeply. This might hurt.

“Sharpie.”

He’d woken up to feel two things: Tauro’s nose booping his, and the frozen sky water dotting his face. It was cold, and Sharptooth shook, scattering the flakes. With a yawn and a big stretch he stood up.

“H-hey Tauro.”

Tauro stood up next to his mate and scratched Sharptooth’s favorite spot under his jaw with his bumpy scales. “Sleep okay?”

“Mhm. My legs are sore, though.”

“Yeah, s-sorry about that.”

Sharptooth shrugged with a smirk as they started their morning walk together. The tall trees with the sharp edges, the ones that looked like six mountains stacked on top of each other, smelled fantastic. Sharptooth never knew trees could even smell like this, and he was honestly worried that they’d block his sniffer forever with their overpowering goodness. But, they didn’t, and soon as he’d thought it, his nose smelled food. His legs protested though, especially his thighs, and he let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Tauro asked.

“Oh, just thinking about why my legs are sore.”

“Sh-shut up,” Tauro blushed.

“Four times, Tauro, that’s gotta be a new recor—”

Sharptooth suddenly felt two pokes in his side from Tauro’s horns and lurched back into one of the pine trees. Several globs of snow fell from the tree onto Sharptooth, burying him as he feigned complete knock out.

“T-Tauro, you’ve-you’ve killed me…” and he stuck his tongue out with an exaggerated death rattle.

“No, I’m not falling for that. You deserved it.”

He laughed as he rolled upright and stood, gently knocking his head into Tauro’s as he did just to knock him off balance before pulling him in close for a lick.

“That’s not fair,” Tauro pouted with another blush.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

They smiled together and echoed low rumbles that reached each other’s hearts deep in their chests. Sharptooth brought up the food scent he’d smelled and asked if Tauro needed to eat. He specifically didn’t ask if Tauro was hungry, but if he needed food. He’d found Tauro had a bad habit of forgetting to listen to his stomach mostly just to keep talking to Sharptooth, or at least, that’s what Sharptooth had noted. It was possible Tauro did this with everyone he’d ever been around, but Sharptooth only had his own experiences to infer off of. And somewhere in him he did wish that Tauro did it only because it was him, even if that brought a little guilt with it. He didn’t want Tauro to starve just to be with him. So, Tauro admitted he needed to eat and the two stomped off, their footfalls even quieter in the snow, and found a pair of crest heads, not the sharpteeth kind, the leaf eater kind. They’d developed a very easy strategy—since, as reluctant as Sharptooth was to admit it, Tauro was faster. So Tauro would start the chase and push the prey straight toward Sharptooth, who would jump out of his hiding place and clamp down on the leaf eater’s neck as hard as possible, since he had the stronger bite. With luck, the leaf eater would die quickly and they’d have their meal without a ton of effort. And this time was a success just like many others. They began to eat and Sharptooth thought about their other attempts, mostly ones that failed. Usually clubtails and threehorns gave them the most trouble, because both had ways to protect their necks. Clubtails were so short that it was hard to bend down far enough to grab them, and even when he had, Sharptooth’s teeth slipped off the bony skin. It honestly reminded him of Tauro’s skin, but it was much less fun to bite and gnaw at. And…now he was no longer thinking of food, but of biting Tauro, and he must have made a funny pausing face because Tauro laughed, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“What? What is it?” Sharptooth said with a tiny snicker.

“You just paused like this—” and he grabbed a bit of meat and stared off, jaw half open with flaps of food hanging over all his teeth. Even his eyes stared in different directions.

“Please tell me I didn’t actually do that.”

“Oh, you absolutely did. It was very cute.”

He did not believe Tauro at all, but he knew if he didn’t accept the compliment Tauro would jab him with his horns all over his body until he did. Hmm, maybe he shouldn’t accept it then, his mind thought salaciously.

“Sharptooth.”

“Okay, yes, thank you. I accept the compliment.”

“Great Circle, I have no idea what you’d do without me.”

Sharptooth rolled his eyes. “I would be very, very sad. And lonely.”

The Carnotaur looked away and kept his eyes on his food for a few bites. At first Sharptooth thought nothing of it, after all Tauro was eating and that’s what was important. Well, and that he was eating too. He never wanted Tauro to see him hungry…again. There had been once or twice where they’d gone a week or two without food, and while Sharptooth had never endangered Tauro, he had gone after a few very small meals recklessly and ferociously for little reason. That didn’t bother him—it was normal. What did bother him was Tauro’s face afterwards; he was shocked and horrified. Sharptooth had trouble understanding feelings besides fear in other dinosaurs’ faces, but this was clear as day to him. Yes, Tauro was afraid of him, that he saw, and that broke him, but worse was he also saw disgust and a different kind of fear that was much less known to him. Later, he’d asked Tauro to explain what those looks had meant, and Tauro told him with a dash of explosive frustration that he was afraid Sharptooth would become a monster, that he didn't even care what happened to him, just that Sharptooth would lose his way and go off the deep end. He had asked Sharptooth what would happen if his hungry demeanor finally won over his satiated demeanor—what if he acted hungry all the time? And he’d had no answer then, and none now, he'd just roared back and shouted at Tauro for judging him. This face Tauro was making, now, as they ate, reminded him of the somber leftover feelings they had after that fight. It hurt, and he wanted it to go away immediately.

“Sharpie, are you beating yourself up about something again?”

Tauro’s voice jerked him back. “What? No,” he lied.

“Yes, you are, I know that face.”

Sharptooth hated Tauro sometimes for his ability to read his expressions as if they came from Tauro’s mind itself. As if Tauro was the one giving the expression and Sharptooth just followed the order.

“Just promise you won’t let me turn into a monster.”

Tauro dropped his bite and stood up, looking down at Sharptooth. “That again…? Oh, Sharpie, I’m sorry. I got mad because I was scared back then. You’re not a monster and you won’t be. You don’t need me to make sure of that.”

“I do though,” Sharptooth said, standing up tall to meet Tauro’s eyes. “I keep my stomach in check because you’re around. Without you, I’d never done that and I probably wouldn’t if you left.”

Tauro shifted.

“N-not, not to guilt you into staying with me, of course. If you needed to leave, I’d—”

“I’m not leaving you, Sharpie,” Tauro commanded with serious eyes piercing into Sharptooth.

“I-”

“I’m not. Leaving.”

“Not…leaving…” he mumbled, feeling wind on his face.

***

“What? Not leaving what?” Rahno asked quietly as they neared the sleeping herd.

“Huh?” asked Sharptooth with confusion. 'Oh,' he remembered, 'I was thinking again. I keep telling myself NOT to do that, this happens every time.'

“N-nothing. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, sure," responded Rahno with heavy disbelief. "I’m not letting this go, though.”

Sharptooth rolled his eyes. Rahno never let ANYTHING go, and pestered him over and over, sometimes physically, until Sharptooth relented and gave it up. Annoying little brother. “Chaser or catcher?” Sharptooth asked, lowering his head and preparing.

“You are, somehow,” Rahno laughed, “way faster than me, despite being bigger. If only by the littlest bit.”

Sharptooth looked back and smirked. “A littlest bit bigger is still bigger, little Rahno.”

“I will bite your face without a second thought.”

“Look, if you want to lose a sparring match can it wait until after we get food?” Sharptooth put on his best shit eating grin and turned before Rahno could react. Rahno, in turn, was about to chomp down, hard, on Sharptooth’s tail, but the dark big biter had already lurched out and sprinted toward the herd. Rahno himself moved quickly around the rocks to get into position—he needed to be around the corner so Sharptooth didn’t have to completely turn a crest head around to run the opposite direction. This way, the rocks looked safe, and the crest head would go to him naturally. He watched Sharptooth run, and fucking hell, could he RUN. It was like he was born part fast biter, the way he leapt and stomped forward. For how quiet he could be, he was loud as thunder and fast as the sky lights when it suited him. The herd exploded into chaos and yelped all kinds of what Rahno imagined as terrified leaf eater swears. Half the time Sharptooth caught a leaf eater on his own before Rahno even had a chance to do his part--those times sucked because Rahno never heard the end of it even when they made it back to Terra and she tried to bolster Rahno’s broken ego. But this time, Rahno had his chance to pull his weight. Bursting around the corner came a rainbow crest head—a male and a big male at that. Juveniles be damned, he guessed, and without complaints crushed down on his neck without hesitation. The bones crunched and the crest head had no time to even cry out, which made both Sharptooth and Rahno feel better about causing such chaos.

“Okay, we can both carry this back, I promise,” Sharptooth assured, breathing heavily.

“ ‘Good job, Rahno,’ ‘Oh, no, it was nothing Sharptooth,’ ‘No, please, I insist, that was a great kill,’ ‘Fine, fine, I admit it, it was badass.’ “ Rahno threw his best glare at Sharptooth after he finished his sarcastic tirade.

Sharptooth just smiled and rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, good job Rahno. It was a pretty impressive kill. Very fast and efficient.”

“Was that so hard?” asked Rahno as he picked up the head again and motioned for Sharptooth to grab the pelvis.

“Yes,” he mumbled, mouth full of crest head body.

Rahno smacked his tail into Sharptooth’s as they walked side by side up the hill toward the Great Valley, where they’d follow the border north to where Terra was waiting. Both of them hoped she was sleeping, actually, though again they could hear her voice in their heads chastising them for babying her. But they always felt protected by her and she took such good care of them, even Sharptooth, who never felt he deserved it. Rahno had promised him he did and that she wasn’t acting like their mom, just that she wanted to protect who she could if she had the power to do it. What was the point of her having such immense size and strength if she couldn’t keep the ones she loved safe?

Sharptooth still didn’t believe Terra loved him. They’d still, even now, only known each other for about a month or two. He was sure he needed to keep proving his worth to them or they’d leave him behind. Or worse, exile him from their territory. Rahno, however, he was more convinced about. Rahno was the little brother he never had, and as the other male sharptooth had told him, Sharptooth was the replacement brother that Rahno had lost. He was never sure how to feel about being called a replacement to fill such an important role, or at least as important as Rahno made it out to be when he’d told him stories about his childhood.

As it turned out, he and Terra had known each other for a very long time, and then to his horror Sharptooth found out they’d had a run in with HIS brother, Red Claw. Apparently he must have found them on his own while he and Sharptooth had still been living with their parents, far away from the Great Valley. Evidently he’d bullied Terra and Rahno, and Rahno’s father had to kick him away to get him to leave them alone. Sharptooth had remembered one time when Red Claw came back from somewhere crying and whining, but he never told Sharptooth why--he'd only told their parents. But then as he parsed through that memory he never remembered his parents doing much about it either. Sounds like Red Claw had been stuck in his baby phase for much longer than he’d realized.

As they approached Terra’s nest, Sharptooth just had a few thoughts left running around his big head. Most fearful of which was that he hoped that they’d never run into Red Claw, or that he never found himself here near the Great Valley. Sharptooth’d given Terra and Rahno the warning before, when he thought he was going to die, and now that they were all together and, you know, not dead, he figured he could keep Red Claw off them. Even by himself. But as time passed he started worrying that with a baby around, he, Terra, and Rahno, might be a little more hardpressed than they would admit to survive Red Claw’s conniving plans.

If only Tauro were there. HIS plans were the smartest Sharptooth had ever known. He’d know what to do.

They set down the crest head near Terra, who yawned and rolled her eyes. “I told you two you don’t have to hunt for me.”

“Sucks,” Rahno said with a smile and nudged a torn out chunk of flesh toward her. “Nothing but the best for our queen.”

“Our?” she laughed.

“Oh, yes. I’m like...,” Sharptooth began, scratching his nose in thought, “a step-prince, or something. Rahno’s the king.”

“And kings should obey their queens, shouldn’t they?” she leered.

Sharptooth held back a laugh and it came out as a snort. Best fill his mouth with food before Rahno realized how much he'd been laughing at him.

“Not when it comes to food and the wellbeing of the queen!” Rahno argued anyway. “Eat!”

“Fine, fine. You two must also, and then you need to sleep. You’re interrupting mine.”

They smiled and nodded. “Aye aye, your highness,” they said at the same time.

“You two are too much. How is it you’re not related?”

They shrugged and immediately started biting at each other while Terra filled her stomach. After a while, and several ‘best 2 out of 3’s’ from Rahno that he never won, they settled down and went to sleep. The eggs would be arriving soon, and they would need to be ready for them when they did.

Notes:

Weep o'er the halls for the fact that Tauro isn't here.

Next will probably be the chapter that coincides with the LBT2, then I might skip toward 5, and then forward again to the TV show time period. Haven't decided yet.

Chapter 5: Sharptooth’s Mistake

Summary:

We can’t all be perfect. Sharptooth knows this more than most.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Finally the eggs were laid, good eggs, strong, speckled, and orangey white.Terra was very proud of them, and commented on them constantly, how beautiful they were and how powerful her children would become once they hatched.

“OUR children,” Rahno chuckled.

“Yes, yes, our children,” Terra shushed as she nudged the eggs closer together in their nest. Sharptooth watched them fondly and silently, devoting himself to their protection, because even if he couldn’t have eggs right now, he could still care for Terra’s. She was becoming a sister just as much as Rahno had already cemented himself as a brother. Though Terra was definitely occupying the older sister role as opposed to Rahno CLEARLY being a younger brother, regardless of the fact that Sharptooth was older than both of them.

“Terra,” Sharptooth hummed with his low gravely voice, “you need to go eat now. It’s been weeks since you left our nest.” Our nest, he thought to himself. This was finally starting to feel like his home too.

“You’ve been bringing me food.”

Rahno shook his head. “You need to get out, go breathe some fresh air, away from the tar pits. We can watch the eggs.”

“I can watch them alone,” Sharptooth added, “you should go with your mate, Rahno.”

They looked at him in mild surprise. “You sure, Sharptooth?” Rahno asked, and even he couldn’t hide his hesitation at leaving his future children with someone they’d met only months ago. But Sharptooth nodded back with certainty, and gently shoved the two of them out of the low hanging ceiling alcove that housed the eggs.

“Well,” Terra said quietly, “if you’re sure…”

“It’s not like they’ll get up and run away,” Sharptooth laughed. “There’s only four eggs. I should use my strength for something good this time instead of to terrorize and hurt folks.”

Terra inclined her head in pity, and Rahno moved to bump the underside of Sharptooth’s jaw, which was easy because Sharptooth was taller than him, if only by half a head, and of equal height to Terra. “Take it easy on yourself, Sharptooth,” Rahno kindly commanded. “You’re not that sharptooth anymore. We’ve seen it, just while you’ve been with us.”

“Redemption is not something I need or can even achieve,” he responded. “But I can at least do this for you two.”

They nodded back and left the alcove, carefully hopping down across the tar pit, careful not to walk on the huge bones of a dead creature, as their weight would crush it in a second. Sharptooth watched them disappear around the rocky outcroppings that led to the more hospitable plains in the distance. Nowhere near as hospitable as the valley behind him, but better than where they were. They’d picked this spot for the nest because it deterred most predators—everyone knew to stay away from sinking sands and tar pits, so while it meant they had to travel farther to get food, they didn’t have to be constantly watching their backs when they rested. And now Sharptooth turned to the eggs, laying himself down next to them. He surveyed them individually, trying to see if he could memorize differences between them. One of them had speckles in a star pattern, another was covered more in the orange dots than white egg shell, still another was not perfectly ovular but more circly, and the last egg had a purple tint instead of being pure white. They were very beautiful, like Terra insisted, decided Sharptooth, and he wondered how the little ones would grow under their parents’ watchful eyes. How would they parent them? Would they teach them to be respectful to life, indifferent, or cruel? He couldn’t imagine they’d teach them to be cruel, but he’d noticed that sometimes Terra and Rahno didn’t seem to care all that much who or what they killed. He’d seen them kill babies and juveniles before, much like the longneck and threehorn who still pestered Sharptooth in the back of his mind, and it had bothered him. But who was he of all dinosaurs to critique them? They’d saved his life, more or less, and he’d done much worse than pick off juveniles. At least he’d never seen Terra and Rahno hunt for sport—not only was that just plain dangerous, but it was a little…mmm, of questionable morals, to say the least. However Sharptooth knew that the leaf eaters would be scared of them no matter what they did or how they did it, so at the end of the day as long as one could sleep at night, it didn’t matter. He was just moving himself to a more kind spirited form of survival, and he wouldn’t control anything Terra and Rahno did as long as they cared for him.

So he knew he needed to keep these eggs safe until they hatched, and even afterwards. A few roars slowly brought his head up toward where he’d heard it. It wasn’t Terra or Rahno, and it didn’t sound very big, so he closed his eyes again and rested, needing more and more these days. He wasn’t exactly a young Sharptooth anymore, and ever since he, you know, fell over 1000 feet into the great underground, and then drowned, his body had been a little more testy than it used to be. He was slower, even though not by much, and his legs ached. Rahno had teased him about having more old-sharptooth warts on his face and more wrinkly skin, and he knew Rahno had meant it good-naturedly, a sibling jab, but it started to make him wonder if he’d expended too much of his life by dying twice. It wasn’t something he liked to linger on, especially when he had put himself in charge of taking care of these eggs.

The roar sounded again, and this time he looked up quickly. This one was MUCH louder and much bigger. In fact, he could’ve sworn he recognized it, but he immediately hoped he was wrong. He stood and walked to the entrance where he could stand up straighter. He would’ve loved to sniff the air to identify who approached them, but his nose remained shut tight, so he used his eyes to pierce the air and see as far as they could, also using his padded feet to feel any vibrations that would transmit to them.

Thump thump, he heard. And then, pitter patter pitter patter, pit-pit patter-pat. One big sharptooth and two little ones. Maybe a family like his, trying to find any scrap of food. He felt presumptive pity at one grown sharptooth caring for two little ones, but then he heard deep growling that echoed into his body. This time he knew he’d heard it before, and shocks tightened all the muscles in his body.

“Please, no,” he whispered.

He bolted out of the nest, eager to keep the eggs inside hidden, and rushed around the corner to meet the approaching growlers before they found his hiding spot. The intruders appeared before him and he snarled easily. He saw, luckily, not who he’d thought, but dangers all the same. An adult sharptooth female with two juvenile sharptooth, definitely hers. Once upon a time this sharptooth had dealt a devastating blow to Sharptooth, and he wasn’t happy to see her backed by her two juveniles who could prove to do more damage than he wanted to admit.

“This area’s taken,” Sharptooth snarled. “Move along.”

The female smiled eerily, and Sharptooth took a step back. “Not very proper, are you?” she cooed, and her children snapped and growled at him. He snapped back much louder and stronger, and they jumped away behind their mother. She now bared her teeth at him. “Do not dare to threaten my children, or you will pay the price.”

“I said move along,” he repeated.

“To where?” she asked. “There is nothing out here, and it is always so dark and gloomy. We just need a place to stay for the night, and you look like you just came from somewhere… cozy.”

His thoughts zapped immediately back to the eggs—he could see all four clearly in his head, and then saw great feet smashing them to pieces, their contents spilling out. He’d seen it before, adult sharpteeth getting rid of future competition, hell, he’d DONE it before.

“No.”

“No?” she repeated with a devilish smile. “No? Oh, I see how it is. Well, my dear, if it is a fight you want, it is a fight you will get. And whatever you are protecting, dear sharptooth, we will destroy with pleasure.”

Without another word her children swarmed him, biting at his legs and his arms, but this was weak power, easily removed, so he shook them off and roared loudly. He hoped that Terra and Rahno were close enough by that they’d return to him and fight this female off. But just as he shook off the children the female charged and slammed into him, exposing his neck, which she immediately snapped at. Luckily neck bites were Sharptooth’s forte, so he quickly ducked and spun, smashing his tail into her. She flew into the rocky cliff face nearby and landed on the back of her neck. Sharptooth flashed back involuntarily to the exact moment the adult longneck had done the same to him, and his body began to lock up tight and freeze. The guilt and exhaustion he felt were disproportionate to what his body actually could do, and it costed him. The juveniles both went for one leg and knocked Sharptooth over. As he thrashed he saw them rush behind him towards the nest, and before he could spin to his feet the female was on top of him, snapping at his head again, legs on either side of his tail. But he was not defeated just yet, and dug his feet claws into her underbelly and kicked her off into the air where she landed moments later with an earth shattering crash. Now Sharptooth made his move and ran to the nest.

He sprinted with all his might, fear gripping him and imbalancing him, almost tripping him as he jumped the tar pit river. The juveniles were struggling to cross, thankfully, and so Sharptooth made it to the nest before they did, but now he was backed into a corner. He roared loudly again, the greatest roar he’d roared in a long time, maybe even since the earthshake, hoping beyond hope his friends would hear. It even shook the juveniles and he could see between their looks at each other that they were debating running. However, stomping behind them came their mother, and their vigor was renewed. Sharptooth had already analyzed the situation—he needed to get rid of the kids or they’d circle behind them and get the eggs, which they’d no doubt seen.

“Those are beautiful eggs,” purred the mother.

Yep, he thought, definitely had seen them.

“Tasty,” the kids hissed, and lurched forward on opposite sides of Sharptooth. He tail swiped one straight into the tar, and bit the other one, throwing it at the adult. Somehow she caught him and braced herself on the spine and rib bone structure that crossed the pit, which Sharptooth hoped wouldn’t be able to carry both their weight. Unfortunately it did, and the little one hopped back onto rocks in the pit, trying to get to his brother to save him.

In the meantime the female rushed Sharptooth, who was crouched in the alcove. He knew he’d have to meet her on the edge to exercise his full power, and that meant he’d be in danger of falling off too. He didn’t care though—those eggs needed to stay safe.

With a huge snarl he led head first snapping at her torso, but she smacked him down with her heavy skull, and he smashed into the rock. Ouch, he growled internally, and burst back up at her before she could clamp down on his neck. She flew back barely clawing her way back into a balanced position on the spine.

“You know,” she breathed, “you look familiar.”

He roared. “I don’t care.” His eyes flashed to the juveniles—the one brother had gotten the other brother out, but he’d collapsed out cold, leaving the non-tarred sharptooth free to release his anger onto Sharptooth.

“No, really,” she said far too nonchalantly for Sharptooth’s liking. “I’ve seen you before. Did you not used to run around with a Carnotaur?”

His heart froze all the blood in his body and his eyes widened with fully bared teeth without his command. “What did you just say?” he bit out.

“Tauro, wasn’t it?” she smirked. “Yes, I remember now.”

And so did he. He’d tried to forget that day, and refused to bring it back into memory now, but she remained in his mind’s eye. The day they were separated a female sharptooth had been there, among many other sharpteeth. This female had been one of the ones who chased Sharptooth away from his mate, to make a long story short. They’d only seen each other for seconds, so it made sense to Sharptooth why she struggled to remember him. But he, he remembered every face that day. Every one was burned into his memory.

“You do not deserve to speak his name.”

“You never found out what happened to him, did you?” she continued, standing up straighter and haughtier.

“Shut up, last warning.” In his rage Sharptooth didn’t notice the remaining juvenile sneaking to his right side, his blind side, to get up into the nest. It crept slowly enough that Sharptooth couldn’t even feel the vibrations. All his attention was on her.

“No, I think not. I want you to tremble as I tell you what happened to your beloved Carnotaur. You see, he—”

And Sharptooth had already lunged, his white teeth sinking into the female’s neck with blinding speed. Older or not, escaping death twice and the consequences be damned, Sharptooth regained his younger speed and power and snapped her neck in seconds, tossing her lifeless body into the bubbling pits on top of the other juvenile, crashing them both under the sticky waves.

Behind him the other juvenile screeched, and Sharptooth whirled, already running to it, not noticing that it had a crushed egg in its mouth and another half punctured in its front teeth. He smashed into the juvenile and it splatted against the nest’s back wall, where Sharptooth grabbed it by its torso and crushed all his energy into the bite. He heard the spine and ribs of the juvenile shatter and crunch, and he dropped it arrogantly, proud of his power.

He hadn’t seen that one of the eggs had rolled out of the nest when the juvenile had hit the wall, and further hadn’t seen that it had stopped right beneath the falling juvenile. Only when he dropped the creature did he see it, and by then it was too late. He heard another crunch, not from the body, and all at once his rage deflated.

There was only one egg left—the purple and orange. He’d failed spectacularly at his promised job. No, he’d said, he didn’t need any help, all would be fine. He quickly threw the body off the egg in vain hopes to save it, but the yolk had broken and a small shriveled body lay broken. The body hit its brother and mother who were suffocating slowly in the tar. They deserved it, growled Sharptooth, and he stomped over to them, jumping down onto the sturdy rocks in the lake. He leaned down and whispered into the exposed ear of the female.

“I hope you suffer long enough to see your children die in front of you,” he hissed. “I hope you hear their screams of agony and watch the life leave their eyes before you are allowed to die. I hope your lungs fill slowly and you die of starvation before suffocation. I hope you are alive when my family returns so that we may eat you alive, slowly, and intentionally. That is what you deserve. For what you did to me, to them,” he motioned to where Terra and Rahno had left, “...and to Tauro.”

He clawed into her face with his foot, just once, and heard her scream into the tar, her sideways face just barely uncovered enough for her to breathe. Sharptooth returned to the nest and sat motionless in front of the remaining egg, tears now freely streaming from his eyes, and fear gripping him again. Terra and Rahno would kill him long before they ate the female, he reasoned. His time was done and this was the last chance he’d had, and he’d failed.

They’d heard him roar, twice. The last far more desperate than the other. They’d eaten part of their kill, at least enough to survive on, before they had to start running back. Something had gone horribly wrong, and both parents imagined the worst. Sharpteeth beyond count and size had found their nest and murdered all they held dear. Great toothed flyers had bled Sharptooth to death and only then stolen their eggs. Egg stealers swarmed Sharptooth and pushed him into the tar pit, where he watched as they ate the eggs.

They HAD to get back.

Finally the rounded the corner and the truth was only slightly less terrible than they imagined. They saw the family of light green sharpteeth lying in the tar, sinking very slowly. A female and two juveniles, one completely dead and the other close to it. Then they saw the dark body of Sharptooth, bleeding and sobbing, as he laid in front of the one egg that was left. Only one egg was left…

Rahno screamed out a roar and jumped across the pit with Terra. “Sharptooth!” he yelled, almost shoving him upright so he could see the egg and what was left of the others. “What happened?!”

He motioned to the adult female and gritted his teeth, unable to speak for fear of releasing another sob. He was far too evil to deserve to cry, he thought. “They came and overwhelmed me.”

“A-and the eggs?” Terra said with a broken voice, leaning down to check the remaining egg.

He shook his head. “The juvenile ate two, and the last was crushed. I…I crushed the last one.”

Terra and Rahno froze and the mother whispered in shock. “YOU?”

He looked away. “I killed it as it tried to sneak up behind me, eggs still in its mouth—”

Rahno gasped and his voice broke.

“--and I crushed its body in my mouth, and-and I didn’t notice the egg had rolled underneath me, and…I dropped the body, and…”

Sharptooth heard low seething breaths increase in tempo and he turned to see Terra staring at the last egg, teeth bared and eyes boiling. “You…” she began as she excruciatingly slowly rose to face him, meeting his height, “you promised you’d protect them!”

“I know, Terra, I—”

She shoved him against the cave wall and pressed a foot up on his abdomen. Rahno merely watched in horror, but horror at what, Sharptooth couldn’t tell. He felt her strong foot dig its claws into his skin, and felt the searing pain. He deserved the pain.

“How could you be so careless!”

“I was just so mad I didn’t see the egg when I dropped the juvenile, I didn’t mean to I swear!”

She roared at him, blasting his ear drums and causing them to bleed.

“Terra,” Rahno began, gently pushing her off Sharptooth. “He fought off three sharpteeth to save the eggs…it’s not his fault.”

“It IS his fault!” she screamed, now pushing Rahno back albeit much less roughly. “He hasn’t changed at all! He’s still a monster blinded by rage and hunger!”

Sharptooth didn’t even try to get up from where he’d slid down on the wall, he didn’t even try to argue with her. She was confirming what he always knew—he’d never be able to escape the shadow of his past that HE created.

“He’s NOT a monster!” Rahno fumed back. “If it weren’t for him ALL our eggs would be gone!”

She scratched the side of his face with her hand claws. “If it weren’t for him we’d still have two.”

“Enough, Terra! He’s our broth—”

“I’m leaving, you don’t have to worry about me,” Sharptooth said quietly, already making to hop onto the lake rocks. He landed softly and didn’t turn back as he crossed to the other side.

“Sharptooth, wait!” Rahno yelled, pushing past Terra who merely scorned Sharptooth with devastating looks. “Don’t leave! We need you.”

“You don’t need me, all I bring is destruction.” He didn’t even look back to say it. He knew if he met Rahno’s eyes he’d lose his drive and stay, causing them even more pain.

“I…” Rahno said, quieter, “I need you. You’re my brother.”

Sharptooth had now climbed the short wall bordering the lake, and finally turned around, feeling he was far enough to stand his ground to leave. “Brother’s don’t kill their children.”

A harsh sigh had them both turn. “Sharptooth, enough,” Terra growled. “I know…I know you didn’t mean it. You’re…you’re not a…a monster.”

He shook his head. “I am.”

“You’re my brother too,” she persisted. “Brother’s make mistakes.”

“Not like this,” he responded, remaining resolute. But Rahno pressed harder, quickly hopping across and jumping behind Sharptooth before he could process what he intended. Now Rahno had Sharptooth’s exit blocked and he’d HAVE to listen.

“Sharptooth, this was HER fault,” he pointed to the dying female, “not yours. If you hadn’t been there, what would have happened?”

He looked away and didn’t answer.

“Well?”

He shrugged.

“They all would’ve died,” Terra finished.

“But you said—” Sharptooth argued.

“I know what I said!” she roared, and then gave another heavy sigh as tears fell from her eyes. “I need to be alone with the egg. Both of you go.” They nodded and started walking through the rocks that led into the barren fields. “And Sharptooth?” He turned. “You’d better come back, or I’ll find you myself and make you.”

Rahno nudged him. “So will I.”

And they left the nest area. Sharptooth considered breaking into a sprint as soon as they hit open ground, but in his state Rahno would outrun him and stop him, probably violently, and he didn’t want to hurt them anymore.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Rahno repeated.

“It was, I was so drunk on the power of killing that juvenile, of getting revenge for you two, I got careless.”

“You were in the middle of a fight,” reasoned Rahno, “nobody makes rational choices during a fight.”

“You two do.”

“You’ve never seen us fight, not really.” Rahno scratched his neck with his claws. “We don’t always make the right choices when the rush hits us. You should know that better than most. I meant what I said when I told you to be nice to yourself.”

“How can you trust me anymore? You told me to take care of your eggs and I failed. If both of us had been there…”

Rahno shook his head. “We won’t know what would’ve happened because it DIDN’T happen. Terra will come around, don’t worry.”

“I’m still in shock that you’re letting me off the hook so easily.”

Rahno bumped his tail with his, as he’d done weeks ago. “You were never ON the hook, Sharpie.”

His heart bumped quickly, skipping several beats. He didn’t notice he stopped moving until Rahno spoke again.

“Oh—I…I didn’t mean to…” Rahno said bashfully. “Sorry.”

He heard Tauro’s voice again, clear as day, calling him Sharpie and telling him to let Terra and Rahno forgive him, or he’d never have the strength to find Tauro again. “It’s…fine, I still just…only Tauro can…”

“I know. And we will find him too, someday,” Rahno promised, walking back to where Sharptooth had frozen. “When this egg is born, we will go.”

Battles raged in Sharptooth’s mind, all fighting for different things, that he should accept Rahno’s kindness, that he should kill himself for his crimes, that his heart sought out Tauro and not these two who he called family, that he should forget Tauro and stay where his blessings were given, that he should find the baby longneck and seek his forgiveness despite having no way to communicate with him. The last one of those thoughts had Sharptooth making a disgusted face. Why was that little footed longneck back in his thoughts again? That was not the point of things right now.

“Fine,” Sharptooth relented. “I’ll stay. And I will earn your trust again, and your respect, because whether you admit it or not, Terra doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“I don’t believe that. She knows it was the attackers’ fault, not yours.”

He shrugged and turned back to the lake.

“But,” Rahno said, stopping him by gently biting his tail, “we should give her some space. Let’s go grab the kill she and I made and bring it back, okay?”

He nodded back and they padded on, soft feet with huge strong bodies, even now after they’d been so drastically wounded.

 

 

Some time passed and things returned to normal, much faster than Sharptooth thought they would. Terra lightened up on him, but still was very sad about losing her kids. So was rahno, but now they never mentioned Sharptooth during the event, only the female sharptooth and her children who lay decomposing and being picked clean in the tar lake. They left her there and she’d stayed alive for days before she finally died from blood loss as flyers and other small creatures ate her.

One night, during a particularly bad thunderstorm, the family had heard a loud crashing noise, like a rockslide. And then they realized, it was a rockslide. And it was coming toward them—rahno heard it first, and Sharptooth had felt it in the earth.

“Go!” he screamed at them. “Run!”

“The egg!” Rahno yelped. And reached to grab it, but rocks smashed down into the alcove and smacked Rahno in the head, nearly knocking him out.

Terra picked him up and helped him out of the cave. “Sharptooth get out of there, we can make more eggs!”

“I’m not leaving this one behind!” he roared and lurched forward to just barely make it in time to protect it from a falling rock. “Go! I’ll stay, I’ve been buried in rocks before, haven’t I?!”

She couldn’t even manage a smile, and the rocks fell faster so she hopped across the lake with Rahno and didn’t look back. She hoped beyond all that Sharptooth wouldn’t die for that egg just because of her outbursts weeks ago. She knew she was justified in her anger and only regretted that she’d called him a monster. Her anger would’ve been better aimed at the female Sharptooth, but a grieving mother should be allowed nearly everything.

Rahno had agreed, and had just asked that she show Sharptooth she still loved him afterwards.

“Th-the egg…” Rahno murmured barely able to keep hopping to the other edge of the lake.

“Sharptooth is there.”

They fled around the bend and rocks blocked the passage into the lake area. They’d have to wait until things calmed and they could dig the rocks out before knowing what happened to Sharptooth and the egg.

The egg was fine, at the end of it all. Sharptooth was covered in rocks and bruises and cuts, but he was alive. He rose with groans and swears, and smiled when he saw the egg uncrushed and sitting calmly in its spot.

However, then he heard voices. Five voices he recognized way too well. Without another thought he sprinted around the corner and hid his massive body behind a lucky new pile of rocks. He heard their scampering feet as they ran right through the alcove and stared at the tar lake where a slithering dragon moved through.

“I wanna go home,” he heard the threehorn Cera say.

“Petrie go home too,” he heard the flyer say. It was them, no doubt about it. He stayed as still as possible, trying even to keep his breathing silent.

“What about the egg?” the swimmer said, Ducky, he remembered. He remembered when they’d screamed her name as he chased her down into the lake where he’d died. “We cannot leave it here, all alone.”

“I’m…” and this voice paralyzed him completely. It was the longneck, the only one whose name he didn’t know. “I’m afraid it got smushed.”

Well, at least HIS egg didn’t. He wondered what other egg they were talking about. The group of kids talked somberly about the egg, and he felt for them. He knew what it was like to lose an egg. But then Ducky said something he didn’t like.

“There was not another egg like it in the whole world…except, this one.”

“Ducky, it’s safe!”

“It’s here!”

“The egg!”

Oh, no, Sharptooth thought. They better not be about to do what he thought they were. He had to stop them. But, how could he? If they saw him again, his blind right eye, his enormous stature over them, they’d be sure to remember him. And now they had their families they could set against him. He and Terra and rahno would never be safe around the great valley again. They’d have to leave for good. But he couldn’t just let this egg go, not after he nearly died saving it.

He made up his mind—he wouldn’t kill the kids, no, and neither did he want to anymore. But he couldn’t let them take the egg—maybe he’d just roar to scare them off and grab the egg when they ran. He moved slowly to stand up, and just when he’d gotten to his feet and took a deep breath the ground underneath him cracked and shuddered—the ledge crumbled and he fell into the lake. Luckily it was in an area where there was more water than tar so he could, despite the longneck thinking otherwise, swim out. But by the time he’d made it to the other side and peered back to the nest, the kids, and the egg, were gone.

“Shit,” he swore. “Terra and Rahno aren’t going to like this.” And as if on command they broke through the rocks blocking them off.

“Where is the egg??” Rahno shouted. “Is it safe?”

“It’s safe,” Sharptooth said angrily.

“But?” Terra asked.

“Those kids took it back into the great valley. They thought it was one of their future siblings. I was about to stop them, but as soon as I stood to scare them off—“ he pointed over to the debris and rocks that floated and piled under where he fell, “the ledge collapsed. By the time I came back…”

“They were gone.” Rahno sighed. “This egg is really trying my patience.”

“No kidding,” Terra scoffed. “At this point I wonder if it wouldn’t just be easier to make more.”

“We have to get it back,” promised Sharptooth. “I’ll go.”

“Into the valley?!” Rahno exclaimed. “I think the fuck not! They’ll recognize you immediately and KILL you.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“We will go,” Terra commanded. “They don’t know us, and if we go by the smoking mountains after we enter through the hole in the Great Wall—“ she pointed up the hill, “we can find the egg.”

“Don’t kill the kids,” Sharptooth begged. “They’ve been through enough.”

“Wait, these aren’t THE kids, are they?” Terra asked calmly but with a tinge of sorrow and pity. Sharptooth nodded. “Ah, that…complicates things.”

“Dammit,” Rahno swore angrily, “I want our kid back! We’ve been through too much with this one egg to just let it go.”

“Enough to warrant dying from a herd of leaf eaters?” Sharptooth questioned. He knew it was a harsh thought, but it needed to be asked.

Terra and Rahno nodded. “I think Rahno’s right. This is our kid, and we’ll get him back. You need to stay away from the valley, so we will go. We promise to be careful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You both are angry—how can you promise that you won’t rampage a little?”

Terra smirked. “Oh, I’m going to rampage, I just won’t be killing any kids.”

“Promise?”

She looked up and then back to Rahno who shrugged. “Okay, we won’t kill the longneck.”

“Terra!” Sharptooth yelped.

“Okay, fine, we’ll just scare them into not stealing eggs again.”

“To be fair,” Rahno said, “they don’t know they stole an egg.”

“He was near his hatch day,” Terra continued, “they’ll find out soon enough.”

“There’s nothing I can say to stop you two, is there?” Sharptooth sighed.

“Nope,” Rahno smiled. “Relax, big brother, we’ll be back tomorrow.”

“If you say so…promise to at least sleep here first?”

They nodded and growled. “Can’t rampage on an empty stomach,” Terra snarled. Oh they were so going to get killed, Sharptooth groaned. He nuzzled them both, mostly just glad they weren’t angry with him for what he saw as endangering their egg again, and hoped they would be safe. If those five kids could almost off him, what would their parents be capable off?

He shuddered at the thought as they curled up to sleep.

Notes:

Lmao Sharptooth being scared of littlefoot and co made me laugh. He really said “fuck it’s the murderous children again gotta go”

I also realize that chomper’s parents absolUTELY try to eat and kill littlefoot et al. like 15 times in the movie. But like. Meh. Someone stole their baby okay let them be

Notes:

Cupofangst this is your fault I blame you for everything.

Thanks for some of the names though! Most of the names actually. https://archive.transformativeworks.org/works/62723401/chapters/160574464
here's her fic it's great it's already shattered my heart five times.