#mer ghost

Soap made his way to the dock built out towards one end, buckets dropped unceremoniously at the edge. The pool remained eerily still. 

"Hey big guy, let's get this over with. You're going to smell something off about these fish, but I need ye to eat them anyway. They're stuffed with all kinds of goodies for that infection you got." Soap sat down, grabbing some fish and chucking them into the water. 

A dark shadow moved under the surface, barely visible if Soap weren’t keenly watching for him. 

“If you’d let me take a peek at ye, I’d be able to get you cleaned up and healing much faster. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with all these pesky meds” Soap keeps talking, letting his voice carry over the water, filling the silence. 

Specializing in mer biology and recovery, and being especially handy with difficult subjects, Soap was assigned to the case. He had seen barely a scale of the elusive orca mer that was brought in a week ago by their rescue team. The drugs they had him on for transport barely kept him down long enough to get him into the pool, let alone give Soap time for an exam and treatment. Based on the rescue team’s reports, Soap hadn’t been overly worried at first. Orca mers were hardy bastards. 

Until the infection started. 

When mers came to the reserve, they were usually seen by the medical staff that Soap worked on. But every once in a while, a mer would be so distrusting of humans, they wouldn’t let them near. When that happened, the team relied on readings of the water and visual exams from underwater cameras. 

This Orca mer was adept at evading the camera, but had come close enough to a water sampler that the infection was picked up on. The levels Soap read were concerning enough that Soap was putting him on a treatment plan. 

“I know ye don’t have a lot of trust in people like us, but I promise we’re here to help, ye ken?” Soap throws another fish into the water, tracking the dark movement under the water as it makes its way closer. 

“Oh there ye are” Soap smiles, watching as a head of blonde hair breaks the surface. Dark eyes glaring at him from under pale hair. “Gracing me with your sight today, huh? Lucky me” 

The mer remains quiet, eyes never leaving Soap. 

“Alright alright, I get it,” Soap says, waving a fish around for emphasis. “Humans are scary. I can’t imagine what you’d gone through. But this won’t hurt you. See watch-” 

Soap takes a bite out of the medicated fish, grimacing as he chews and swallows. “Christ on a bike, I don’t know how ye eat these raw”, a shiver goes through his whole body as he throws the partially eaten fish out into the water. 

The mer disappears under the water. 

“Och, now ye’ve done it Soap. Scared the poor bastard away, ye bambot” Soap curses under his breath, getting to his feet to leave. 

Suddenly the partially eaten fish disappears under the water. 

Soap pauses, hope gripping his chest. 

Another fish disappears soon after. 

Then another. And another. Soap let's out a quiet whoop, excitement evident as he cheers. “I knew ye liked me, aye big guy?”

---

A clawed hand wrapped around your ankle or delicately holding your hand was the new norm as he chittered to you about his day. If he was sunning himself on the pier, his fins needed to be draped across your lap, his forehead pressed against the underside of your jaw as he tried his best to cuddle up next to you. Multiple attempts to lie on top of you were made, but you could only handle so much of his weight before urging him back into the water.

They were both quite robust now after so many months of feeding them. Soap, especially, was fuller now, no doubt due to your inability to say no to him when he begged for more during feedings. A healthy layer of fat now hid his once protruding ribs.

And if Soap was being odd, Ghost was acting downright peculiar.

You were accustomed to his aloofness, didn’t hold it against him. Figured it was just part of who he was. Not to say he wasn’t expressive. An eye roll here, a murderous scowl there. He’d switch it up with the occasional puppy eyes when you fed him something particularly tasty.

More regularly, he’d bestow his ‘bored’ face on you, as you so affectionately referred to it. A disinterested, half-lidded gaze that he affixed to your person more often than not.

But where he was dismissive of you before, merely tolerant of your presence, he was quite intrigued by you now.

He was giving you that look again. Like he was seeing right through you. It didn’t matter how many times you looked away and back, his eyes never left you. Pinprick pupils that gave way to liquid espresso irises. Blonde lashes fanned delicately across the top of his cheekbones as he blinked slowly at you. Hypnotic and alluring, you found yourself locked in a staring match most days. You could only equate it to hunger, something primal that you couldn’t quite place.

You remembered the first time he initiated touch. He’d been unusually close to the pier, submerging and resurfacing each time a little closer to your hanging legs. Testing you. You’d merely chuckled at him, throwing a few shrimps in his direction to reward his proximity to you.

It wasn’t until he was directly below your feet that you’d started to feel antsy. Ghost had never gotten this close before, you’d never seen his fins in such vivid detail. Fins that flared around him like a crown of thorns, before settling against his body once again. His caudal fins were coiled tightly beneath him… like Soap’s before he-

You shrieked as Ghost’s massive body hurled itself out of the water. Stupidly, you covered your eyes as if that would stop the enormous mer from hurting you. He was finally going to do it. He was going to eat you.

Your tragic thoughts fizzled out when no such pain occurred. Carefully, you removed your hands from your face, eyes meeting Ghost's own as he towered over you. His torso was settled between your open thighs, arms on either side of your body as he held himself up on the pier.

You kept your chin tucked to your chest as you crawled back on your elbows. Your wide eyes remained locked on his own, fear still coursing through you as his scowl morphed into a smug grin. A rumbling purr vibrated deep in his throat as he used his massive forearms to crawl over you. His tail swishing back and forth to aid him as he leaned down to rub his cheek to yours. Satisfied with your display of submission, he merely settled in closer to you, chirping loudly when your legs wrapped around him in welcome.

Selfishly, you cradled his cheek in the palm of your hand, delighting yourself in the feeling of his cool skin pressed to your own. You allowed his subharmonics to lull your racing heart, the adrenaline slowly leaving your body as he trilled sweetly in your ear.

And so his cautionary distance became a thing of the past. You’d grown accustomed to the feeling of his bristly fins. The black spines often brushed against the bottom of your feet as he circled your legs under the pier.

He quite enjoyed terrorizing you nowadays. Barked a laugh every time he pressed a single claw into the arch of your foot, eliciting a shriek from you while Soap clicked in amusement at your expense.

He’d rub his face against your ankle in apology, a lopsided smirk gifted to you before submerging himself in the depths to do it all over again.

He was like a spoiled dog. Toeing the line of your boundaries, domineering your space, and bullying you into submitting to him.

Not that you minded…

---

It takes three weeks for Soap to learn more about the mer. It’s a normal day, Soap chattering on about some story or another at the end of the dock, when the mer makes his way all the way over, head breaking the surface closer than he’s ever been. 

Soap startles so hard he almost drops his laptop in the water. 

“Christ, ye oversized fish, don’t do that to a man.” Soap puts a hand over his racing heart, “I almost dropped my-” 

“Ghost” the mer says. 

Wait—the mer says something. 

“...What?” Soap asks, very eloquently. 

“My name,” the mer says slowly, the words rasping out, like a knife over sand. “is Ghost”. 

Soap stares at him for a long moment. The mers—Ghost's whole head is above water, his face visible for the first time since arriving. Like a man seeing a sunset for the first time, Soap takes in Ghost's features. From his strong brow, dark brown eyes, sharp nose, and full mouth, to the scars across his lips and cheek, a particularly deep one cutting across his brow and disappearing into his hair line. 

“Ghost,” Soap's smile is radiant, as he meets Ghost's eyes. “It suits ye”. 

---

“The infection’s finally passed. Clean readings for the past three days show that, but his swimming’s not improved,” Price says, not even looking up from the paperwork at his desk.

“Naw, he’s nae gettin’ any stronger. I need to get a closer look at him,” Soap replies, brows furrowed in thought. “He told me his name the other day. I tell ye that?”

Price looks at him in shock. “Really now? That’s a surprise. So, what is it?”

“Ghost.”

“Suits him.”

“Aye,” Soap laughs. “That’s what I said.”

Soap claps his hands, standing from his chair. “I’ll start getting in, get 'im used tae me bein' in his water. Then hopefully, I'll get him tae let me gie him the once-over, sort oot a PT plan for him.”

“Sounds good, Soap. He’s in good hands.”

Price gives him a warm look, and Soap carries it with him as he leaves the office.

---

Soap is pulling on his flippers, sitting at the edge of the dock, when he sees Ghost appear again, head popping fully out of the water a few feet away. 

“How's it gaun, Ghost? Wee bit o' a change today. I’ll be getting in wit’ ye.”

Ghost sinks in the water a few inches, brows furrowing. 

“Don’t you worry, Ghosty, I'll no be comin' tae get ye. Just gonnae take a wee swim, eh?” Soap reassures, securing the final clip on his flippers. With a push off the dock, Soap slips into the water. 

Ghost disappears from view. 

Trying not to let his disappointment show, Soap paddles around the pool. Ghost doesn’t reappear. 

The next few days go much the same.

Soap slips into the water. Ghost disappears. Soap swims around, pretending not to notice the dark shadow getting closer each day. 

By the third day, Ghost keeps his head above water as he follows Soap at a distance. 

By the fourth day, Ghost is close enough to make out the colors of his scales, the shine of his blonde hair as it flops across his forehead. 

By the end of the week, everything changes. 

Soap is making his normal rounds in the pool, swimming around, diving underwater and paddling through the vegetation. Ghost is close behind, always just out of reach, but closer than they’ve ever been. He likely hasn’t spoken again since he first shared his name, but Soap is sure he’ll get him to open up again someday. 

Soap hooks one arm around the ladder as he unclasps the buckles on one of his fins. He pulls it off and plops it on the deck. 

Then something brushes along his foot. 

Soap goes very still. 

Not a fish, and not near any vegetation. 

Fingers. 

Soap feels another cold, careful brush against his toes—then along the delicate arch of his foot

Unable to hold back, Soap flinches at the tickling feeling and looks down. Ghost is below the dock, pale hair drifting around his face as he stares, transfixed, at Soap’s bare foot. 

“They’re a funny thing, aye?” Soap slowly unclasps his other fin, throwing it up on the deck next to the first. He settles one foot on a step of the ladder, and wiggles the other out towards Ghost. “Human feet aren’t made for swimmin’, so we slap on fins tae gie us a hand.” 

Ghost doesn’t reach back out again. Hesitantly, he makes his way around to the side of the dock and surfaces. 

“I’ve never seen ‘em so close before.” Ghost's voice is scratchy again, like it’s rough from disuse. “Sorry, I–um didn’t mean to startle you” 

“Nae, yer a'right. Just kittled me a wee bit.” Soap clears his throat. 

Ghost’s head tilts as his brows furrow. “English, please.” 

Soap laughs, “It means tickled, ya bawbag.” He hauls himself up the ladder, sitting on the edge as he towels off his hair. 

Ghost doesn’t leave. “Why are you swimming” 

“Why not? Swimming’s fun, innit?” 

Ghost's eyes narrow, mouth pulling down in a frown. 

“Nae, you’re right, I do have an ulterior motive. Need you comfortable with me tae get ye feeling better. I want to examine you–would you let me?” Soap keeps his voice steady and looks away as he talks, his heart warming with hope. 

Ghost doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t move away either. Soap considers it a win. 

“It’d be right in the water! Nae need to go anywhere else. I just need tae see what’s holding ye back from swimmin’ right. I can see ye favor one side and I’d like to help. I’m here tae help.” 

Soap pauses, before speaking up again. “It doesnae have to be today. Maybe tomorrow, after breakfast?” 

“Will you have needles?” 

“Och no, avoid those myself when I can.” Soap waves him off, “Nae, it’ll just be you and me in the water, givin' yer fins a wee keek, see what's troublin' ye. Just a wee touch—nae even that if ye'd rather no.” 

Ghost is silent for a long time. Long enough Soap starts to gather his stuff, determined not to pressure Ghost. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Soap’s head snaps up, eyes brightening with excitement. “Ye mean it? That's pure dead brilliant, that.” Ghost isn’t meeting his eyes, body turned away. 

“Ghost,” Soap waits until he looks over. “Thank you,” he says, looking him in the eyes.

Grabbing his things, Soap makes his way from the dock, calling out behind himself. “Dinnae fret yersel', ye'll no be regrettin' it! I’ll be back in the morra. Goodnight Ghost!” 

The victory that flooded your veins in dopamine-filled surges with every wriggling fish you caught from the glimmering water.

The same feelings warmed your heart now. Pride swelled in your chest as you glanced back at your seaside home. Your dream of living near the gulf was everything you’d hoped it would be. You spent most afternoons logging out of your computer and remote work and driving to the local tackle shop.

Small bucket in tow, you appreciated your friendly chats with the owner as he filled your bucket with the live shrimp he’d caught early that morning. You tacked on a hearty red snapper which brought your total up more than you’d like, but you knew you’d need it for later.

A quick, “Thanks, Gaz!” was thrown over your shoulder as you loaded your bait into the car and made quick work getting back to your property.

~

The water was tranquil, gentle splashes of water licked up the wooden posts of your private pier. You enjoyed the silence the ocean brought, beachgoers weren’t allowed on private property lest you call the authorities, but you lived too far out to really be bothered by wandering tourists who’d strayed from the public beaches.

Your personal heaven, blissfully alone for most of the year. Your neighbors only made an appearance during the summer months, when they’d come down for vacations.

Sunscreen and sea salt made for a harmonious combination just like humming and tide winds you thought as you settled down on the pier for another afternoon of leisure.

You plucked a fat shrimp from your bucket, quickly snapping off its head and avoiding its tail before it tried to pinch you. Sinking the plump flesh onto the hook you cast the line far into the shining water, the sunlight reflecting on its surface like dozens of twinkling mirrors.

Sinking your rod into its holding mount, you dipped your hands into the cool water, washing any remnants of shrimp from your fingers.

You wet your lips before pursing them into a shrill whistle. Loud, and slightly uncontrolled, you held the high pitch for as long as your breath allowed. Your eyes scanned the water's surface diligently for any ripples. Nothing.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth in rapid succession, head on a swivel for any sign of movement. Nothing.

Disappointed, you whistled again, giving the water's surface a few slaps for good measure. Something!

Your head snapped to the rod, the line furiously unspooling as something on the other end tried to make off with your bait.

Quickly you unmounted the rod, reeling the line back in steadily, hoping your hook sunk in deep enough to not lose your catch. You huffed as you fought with the stubborn fish, settling in, one of you had to tire out first and it wouldn’t be you.

You were steadily drawing in the line when an incredibly forceful tug nearly jerked the rod from out of your hands. You gasped in surprise, one of your hands reaching out to steady yourself against the pier's post.

You looked up in time to find a familiar face peeking back at you. Brilliant blue eyes watched you curiously from a few feet away, a cheeky grin visible just beneath the water where half of his face was still submerged.

“Soap!” You called sternly. “It was you on the line!”

A clawed hand held up a well-sized sea bass then, waving it around triumphantly, blood trailing down his wrist from where his claws had punctured the fish.

You couldn’t hold back your smile at his antics. The silly Mer you’d met a couple of months into living here. He’d scared you all those months ago, only ever hearing stories about their existence, Merfolk were rarely caught on camera. Elusive and incredibly shy with good reason. (Humankind was known for not being very kind at all.)

Many people doubted the validity of the word-of-mouth tales, despite their growing frequency over the years.

~

You'd found him floating near the pier one day, called to the water upon hearing unfamiliar groaning. Gloomy, sad trills, unlike anything you’d ever heard. Drawn to the splashing you saw from out of your kitchen window.

You recall your first time laying eyes on him, Your lungs frozen around a gasp of shock. Sharp breath drawing the attention of the source of the disturbance. You stood motionless, entranced by the ethereal creature. Handsome and humanoid above the waist, his powerful tail flicking this way and that, a frustrated scowl marring his beautiful features.

You’d thought he was a man drowning had it not been for the reflective sepia scales that adorned most of his body. The fanned fins where his ears should be made him look more imposing; more threatening.

You snapped out of your disbelief when he seemed to call for you. Panicked and shrill chittering driving your body forward. The translucent fins of his tail thrashed as his body writhed in distress.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the stark white of Commercial netting knotted in clusters around his delicate fins, one of his arms completely immobile from how tangled he was.

Without a second thought, you raced back to your house, sprinting through sand, and falling every couple of feet from the uneven terrain. Grabbing your tackle box and the red fish you’d caught earlier that morning you took off back towards the pier.

You remember how he’d snarled at you, a terrifying growl uttered so deep from within his chest you’d almost lost your grip on your hunting knife. With shaking hands you shushed him, gently grabbing onto the netting near his caudal fins, and sliced the knots away.

You struggled to get a good grip, the Mer’s natural mucoid layer coating the ropes in a slick mess.

As slippery as a bar of soap. You thought to yourself.

He quieted down tremendously after the first few rungs of knots were sliced away. You imagined he could feel the blood rushing back into his tail after however long he was trapped within the ropes. It was over an hour before you’d cut most of the netting, exhausted from hauling the rope onto the deck so as not to get lost at sea again.

His tail swished serenely in the water, bobbing under the surface to refresh the sensitive gills on the sides of his neck before returning to you, angling his body to best help you get the wretched things off him.

You hesitated when you neared his arm, so close to his razor-sharp teeth you prayed that he wouldn’t bite you, or swipe at you with the wicked, curving claws that adorned the tips of his fingers.

You never stopped cooing at him, your voice soft and high, placating as you sympathized with his chirps of discomfort.

“I know, I know, Soap.” you soothed, digging in your tackle box for your trusty pliers. He gave a petulant hiss at the object but they aided greatly in lifting the line from where it dug into his skin. (And put a couple of inches in between you and his teeth)

With a final grunt, you snapped off the last of the tangled knot nearly nose-diving into the water to retrieve the weighty bundle before it sank into the depths again.

You expected the creature to swim off, to turn tail and dart into the sea with its newfound freedom but… it didn’t. He shook off the remaining netting and flared his copper fins in a fantastical display of beauty. He reminded you of a betta fish, with frilly and ornate fins that swayed with the gentle waves of seawater.

He appeared tired, sluggish from fighting with the netting, brilliant blue eyes half-lidded and drowsy as he floated with a clawed hand around the wooden post. Anchored to the pier, he rested, his tail refracting the sunlight into golden fractals all around him. The tan skin of his torso marred by angry red welts from having been restrained for so long.

He blinked slowly at you, his gills rhythmically flaring open and closed as he drew sea water into his body. You panted in turn, sweat beading along your brow with the heat of the unforgiving sun.

Your hands cramped from your own struggle with the netting but you managed to pry open the parchment paper that held your catch from that morning. You grabbed the plump fish by the tail and waved it tantalizingly in front of the Mer. His sleepy eyes honed in on the fish immediately, eyes sharp as he sized you up, gills flaring in an aggressive posture before snatching the fish from your grasp in the blink of an eye.

You barked a laugh in disbelief, couldn’t take your eyes off him as he chomped on the fish’s belly, slurping out the entrails like a delicacy before finishing the rest in 3 impressive bites. (The fish was big to you, probably not to him- you thought meekly)

You both stared at each other, equally fascinated by the other's appearance. You wondered if this was his first time coming into contact with a human.

You were taken with him. Couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on the edge of your lips as he allowed you to study him. He looked at you expectantly. Eyes flitting from you to your hands, to the deck again. A hopeful expression softening his once hostile features.

“Still hungry?” You asked him softly. He gave no indication that he understood you, but the bony protrusions of his ribs gave you more than enough answer.

With one last lingering glance you tore your eyes away from the creature and made the trudge back to your property. You didn’t have any fresh fish for the Mer, and the tackle shop would most likely be closed this late into the afternoon. You grabbed a baggie of leftover bait squid you happened to keep in the fridge, your rod, and made your way back to the pier.

You could see his head bobbing in the water, right where you left him. Sighing in relief you were happy to see he hadn’t gone just yet. You knew it was selfish to want to spend just a little bit more time with the fascinating Mer, but you couldn’t help it.

He looked at you curiously, searching your body just as he’d done before. A wary expression on his face as he side-eyed your fishing rod.

“Gonna see if I can catch you something,” you murmured determinedly, wriggling a ring of squid onto your hook and casting the line far onto the other side of the pier, not wanting to accidentally hurt soap if the current brought the hook back in his direction. He merely followed you under the pier, appearing on the other side of the deck as his eyes flicked between you and the bobber at the end of the line.

It wasn’t long before you could feel gentle tugging on the rod, the bobber pulled beneath the surface momentarily before you started reeling in your catch. Steadily you spooled the line, resting a little to tire out the fish before swiftly reeling it in towards you. The fish was smaller than you’d like, a speckled trout, but Soap chirped excitedly all the same. Eyes wide as the fish flew above his head for a second, and eagerly watching as you unhooked the trout.

A triumphant smile adorned your face as you carefully set down your pliers and handed the fish to the Mer, careful to make sure he had a good grip on it before letting go.

He mimicked your own smile, though it looked more like a bearing of teeth, his face unused to contorting his muscles in such a way. Incredibly charming nonetheless.

Little did you know your life would continue much the same after that fateful day. Soap hung out around the pier for about a week, resting and healing his torn fins.

You made sure to feed and check on him in the early mornings and had no choice but to see him on your lunch breaks lest his insistent whistling disrupt yet another one of your Zoom calls.

He was incredibly vocal as the days went on, chittering to you excitedly from the water. Slapping his bronze tail against the surface to get your attention. (As if you could possibly look anywhere but him)

You tried your best to communicate with him, a few days into teaching him sign language (some proper and some you created) led to mini breakthroughs with the Mer.

He was incredibly intelligent, by all means, a quick learner, and very food-motivated. He grasped the concept of hand signals fairly quickly and his favorites to sign were fish, hungry, you, and shrimp. His repertoire steadily increased with each day he spent with you.

Until one day, he was gone without a trace; it was like he was never there to begin with. The wadded-up bundle of netting in your garage the only indication that the past week was in fact not a dream.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cried. Mourning the loss of a friend you had just begun to know.

You played your part. You told yourself over and over again. You’d helped nurse him back to health and now he was probably reuniting with his family somewhere in the depths of the vast ocean.

So when you’d heard the familiar trill of friendly whistling, you flung your book onto the nearest surface, and made a mad dash for the pier, only stopping to slip on a pair of shoes.

“Soap!” You called disbelievingly. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you were met with familiar dark hair. Wooden planks dug uncomfortably into your knees as you knelt before the Mer. He looked healthy, a subtle luminescence to his skin that wasn’t there before. The welts all but gone from his body.

His brows drew together in concern, watching diligently as water flowed from your lashes. You gave him a wobbly smile that seemed to quell his unease. One that he returned.

Unsure of what to do with your hands you swished at the water between you absentmindedly, smiling dopily at the blue-eyed creature.

You froze as he ducked his head under your palm, his hair slick beneath your fingers as he nudged your hand into action. Purring into your touch as you gently pet his hair, scratching beneath his chin and behind his fanned ears when prompted.

He chirped suddenly, as if remembering something, and dove under the water.

You heard various trills and clicks, slightly muffled from your perch on the pier when soap suddenly surfaced again.

He settled in close to your legs that hung over the pier, looking between you and a point in the distance, a pleased smile on his face.

Your jaw dropped in astonishment as another Mer surfaced several feet away. Even from your distance you could tell that he was massive, easily out measuring soap by a couple of feet. Corded muscle that wound taughtly all over his body had you turning your shocked gaze to Soap, bewilderment evident on your face as he gave you a toothy grin.

He chirped at the other Mer, beckoning him closer with rhythmic clicks and high-pitched whistles.

You felt like crying all over again. The Mer had returned, and he felt safe enough to come back with a friend in tow. The honor of getting to witness not one but two Mers in your lifetime… you were overcome with emotion.

Where Soap’s fins were frilly and flowy, the Mer’s were spiny and ostentatious. His tail and fins were darker than midnight, iridescent scales illuminated by the sun giving them a brilliant green hue. He was hauntingly beautiful, with a scowl to rival Soap's own.

His skin was unlike Soap’s, a milky white so fair he was nearly translucent. You could picture Soap sunning himself on a rock, happy as a clam while this ghostly Mer stayed beneath the protection of the ocean, UV rays unable to alter the pigment of his skin.

You were at a complete loss for words, rendered speechless by these otherworldly beings.

~

They stayed close by after that. A heartwarming routine fostered by the growing relationship you culminated with Soap and the second Mer you affectionately named Ghost.

Two Mers with two wildly different personalities. You treasured your time in getting to know them both.

Soap was outgoing and curious. A mischievous Mer that held no qualms about jumping onto the pier to steal your bait shrimp by the handful. Tactile and incredibly affectionate he was very demanding of your pets and touch. A cuddler through and through that wailed vehemently if you didn’t smother him in kisses every once in a while.

Ghost was reserved and cautious. You were no stranger to his burliness, accustomed now to the snarling and guttural growls that emanated from his vocal cords. You couldn’t blame him for his mistrust in you, the heinous scars that marked his body were proof of a life full of hardships.

You’d never attempted to touch Ghost without his permission, not wanting to lose a finger to the Mer’s fearsome bite. You’d seen the way he devoured his food, how he eagerly crunched through bone and sinew.

Even now, several months into making his acquaintance, he never came more than a few feet in proximity to you. No matter how much you tried to entice him.

“Ghost, look what I got for you,” you called to him, wiggling the large red snapper in your hands. You weren’t above bribery, and by the looks of Ghost’s pupils contracting and dilating, he wasn’t either. He clicked at you curiously, his deep, resonant trilling suddenly much sweeter.

You scoffed at his change in mood, snapper was one of Ghost’s favorites and he wasted no time in disappearing beneath the water. Surfacing a couple of feet from the pier he held out his clawed hand politely waiting for you to place it in his grasp.

Thank you.

He signed briefly (and a little begrudgingly) before making off with the fish, putting a good bit of distance between the two of you. He devoured the thing head first, his double row of teeth aiding him in tearing through the flesh.

Soap let out an indignant squawk at not being fed first, insistently waving the seabass at you.

Sorry. Sorry.

You signed placatingly, reaching for the fish and unhooking it from the line before tossing it back to the Mer.

You watched them adoringly, as they finished their meals, Soap inevitably finishing his first before going to shamelessly beg Ghost for a bite of his. Purring up a storm as the other Mer relented and gave him the tail end of his snapper, rubbing their cheeks together in gratitude.

As if on cue, the two Mers turned their gazes back to you expectantly, fanned ears wiggling eagerly.

You sighed fondly, sea salt on the tip of your tongue and sunshine kissing your skin before casting your line far into the gleaming water.

Fin

a/n: thank you so much for reading everyone! Yall really thought i wasn’t going to post for MerMay?? Hehe so I know it’s not very good and certainly not original! I got a lot of inspiration from the ‘Ghoap MerMay’ tag on Ao3. I am always open to feedback/ critique. I am tempted to write a NSFW continuation because I’m fucking nasty so keep an eye out for that! <3

a/n: I was very inspired by betta fish anatomy while writing this, especially crown tail male bettas they really give me Ghost vibes with how imposing their caudal fins are. they are very gorgeous fish and great pets! (I know male bettas are very aggressive towards each other but ghost and soap are Mers not necessarily betta hybrids, they just have the tail hehe)

ghost / soap tail visuals

dividers by: @chilumitos