#orca!ghost

This is it, you thought, as you stared certain death in the face.

You’d been raised to be more careful, of course. You knew better. You knew better. But, curiosity got the better of you, and now– 

Well, now, you were fishfood.

The orca mer glared down at you, pitch-black eyes boring into your very soul. It had backed you up into a corner after chasing you down, a silent hunter, stalking you through the waters that you strayed too far into. 

You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Drawn to the weird thing that swam on the surface of the sea, only its belly visible, the water turned to bubbles behind it before returning to normal. You’d never seen anything like it, absolutely fascinated.

And that fascination was going to be your utter downfall. By the time you realized where you were, it was too late for you. It didn’t stop you from trying to escape, you swam with all your might, but you knew, deep down, that it was pointless. Orcas were the prime predators of the sea, massive and dominating with an even bigger appetite, known for toying with their food.

Fuck, you could only hope the mer would just make it quick, not play with you.

It – he – leaned closer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing into the rocky outcropping at your back as you braced for pain–

“Where’s your mother, pup?”

…What.

You cracked an eye open, peeking at him. Where you expected sharp teeth ready to shred you to bits, you found nothing more than a displeased frown, a pinch in the mer’s brows. Confused, you let out a small, down-swooping chirp.

“Your pod?” He pressed.

Pod? Ribbon seals didn’t have pods, they were solitary creatures, including you. Last time you saw any substantial amount of your kind around one another was during the last breeding season, which you decided to skip. In real time, you witnessed his brows twitch, saw something come over his eyes.

Then, he was hooking his arms around your midsection, tucking you under his belly as he kicked his tail to swim out of the tight space you’d wriggled into. You squealed, struggling in his grip, but froze when he let out an irritated grumble.

“Hush, pup. Not gonna eat ya.”

Incredibly cautious, you tilted your head back to look up at him (as best as you could), mainly seeing his strong, scarred jawline and the protrusion of his Adam’s apple. “...You’re not?”

The mer scoffed, as if offended you thought he would. “‘Course not. ‘M not gonna eat my own kind, ‘specially not a pup.”

You opened your mouth to inform him that you weren’t an orca mer, actually, but snapped your mouth shut. If he didn’t know you were a ribbon seal mer, maybe you could sneak away safely later and not get turned into a midday snack?

Swallowing, you cautioned to ask, “Where are we going?”

“Back to my pod,” he answered. “Can’t just ignore an abandoned whelp.”

“I’m not abandoned–”

His head snapped down to glare at you, and you promptly shut up.

The longer he swam, dragging you along underneath him, the less you trembled. Maybe he really wasn’t going to eat you – or, maybe, he was planning to share with his pod. 

Fuuuck. An entire pod of orcas, your natural predators? There was no way you were getting out of this alive.

That truth seemed to solidify further as he dove deeper into the waters, the surrounding temperature dropping by the second. The pressure increased, pressing on your ears, until he directed you both into the yawning mouth of an underwater cavern. The entrance to a cove, his home.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck–

“Simon,” another voice greeted your… captor? Savior? Whatever the hell he was. Simon drew you upwards with him, where you both surfaced into a dome-like area. The walls were coated in bioluminescent algae, keeping the space cozily lit a cool blue. It was huge, bigger than any other cove you’d ever seen. You supposed it made sense, given it was meant to house several mers that were at least five times larger than you. “Whatcha got there, son?”

“Lost pup,” Simon answered, thrusting you forward with a grunt. “No mother or pod. Think it strayed too far from home.”

The other mer – another orca, of course, because what else? – glanced between you and the man who brought you here, evidently processing the announcement, before he crooked a finger at you. “C’mere, kid.”

When you hesitated, Simon pinched your backside, causing you to yelp and zoom forward on instinct. The second orca mer caught you by your arms, forcing you still as he examined you from head to tail. He turned you around, lifted you up with haunting ease, and paused.

“Fuck happened to yer fin, kid?” He asked suddenly.

What fin? The only “fins” you had were at the end of your tail, what did he… 

Oh. Oh. Orcas had dorsal fins, a feature that you distinctly lacked.

“Um…”

He interrupted you fumbling. “Did… did you get abandoned after being injured?”

“...Yes?”

The man inhaled sharply, then spun you back to face him again. “Poor thing,” he cooed, his rough voice now saccharine and sweet. Coddling. “Bit underfed, too, ain’t ya?”

You looked down at yourself, perplexed. You ate well, each day full of successful hunts. You didn’t think you were underfed, but clearly, the orca mers disagreed.

“Don’t worry,” he said as you heard soft splashing behind you. “We’ll take care o’ ya. All o’ us.”

All of them?

Slowly, you looked over your shoulder, where you saw two more pairs of eyes besides Simon’s curiously locked onto you.

Ohhh, you were so screwed.

(pics of ribbon seals under the cut!! ♥)

He would totally do something like this </3

CW: Non-Descriptive animal death, Mentions of a dead animal, brief mentions of vomit

Does this make sense? I hope so.....not proof read also

You were showing Simon pictures of the new young female spotted seal that had recently come under your care. She was a sassy girl, you were the only person she seemed to listen to.

He didn't understand why you were so fond of the creature, something so uncapable of surviving in the wild. He thought that he was much more interesting than some stupid seal. (Not to mention the spark of jealousy he unkowningly felt over you cooing over something that wasn't him.)

Eventually, he came to the brilliant conclusion that maybe you just wanted a seal carcass of your own. (How he came up with this idea was beyond human logic)

The next day, when he emerged from the deep waters, he ushered you to wait as he dipped back down. Moments later, he had the body of a male seal, its large form dawrfed by that of Simon's.

You felt sick. Bile rising to the bottom of your throat, giving you that uncomfortable acidic feeling before throwing up.

He was confused as to why you weren't accepting his gift. You liked seals, did you not? Maybe, he thought, you were just too shy to accept such a gift from him. Simon could feel his heart swell at your meek nature. He should've remembered how nervous humans became when one was so foward with courting them.

He disgarded his "gift" like it was nothing more than a bouquet of flowers you didn't like, allowing it the sink to the bottom of the sea, before hoisting himself up next to you on the rocks.

Soap woke up with a soreness through his whole body, not a bad one, this was a good one, a really good one. He remembered what happened last night, the heated kisses and the mating bite he now had on his neck. He looked at Simon, who wore a similar on his neck. It made him purr, and snuggled closer to his now mate

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE \o/

part 1 of ribbon seal!reader + orca!141 here!

The cove wasn’t so bad, after you got used to it. 

Not to say it was anything like swimming in the open, deep blue, or napping on a sun-warmed rock, but the plush pelts they had lining the outcropping in their home were comfortable enough to sleep on, and you had more food than you could ever even dream of (too much, actually; you couldn’t keep up with how much the boys tried to feed you daily, insistent that their growing pup needed as much nutrition as they could get their claws on). 

But you missed the sun, missed riding on waves, fighting over a decent spot to doze on. You missed feeling the distant chill of arctic ice under your belly, staved off by thick blubber and thicker skin.

Kyle (it took you a while to nail down their names, but his was easiest, seeing as he was the prettiest of the bunch) took pity on you. Maybe he saw how miserable you were, cooped up in a stuffy cave deep underwater, or maybe he knew you weren’t actually an orca mer at all, and merely played along to humor the rest of his pod. Either way, it was him that convinced the others to take you on outings, as he put it. You didn’t dare ask why and risk losing the privilege.

While Price wasn’t too happy about the idea, he agreed under the condition that at least one of them goes with you and stays by you at all times. They were instructed to keep a close eye on you, prevent you from wandering off (“Curious thing, I know, but we can’ let ‘em go wanderin’ off, heard?”) and make sure you stayed in the “safe” zone, i.e. their territory. 

It was mostly Kyle that took you on these outings. He was a little more lax with you, with the rules, happy to sit back and watch you twirl in the water and trill happily as you chased after schools of fish and snapped your teeth at kelp, giggling as you spun in it until you were draped in slippery, green finery. He’d smile at you any time you glanced his way, wave, but he was always watching, never once taking his eyes off you.

You complained when it was the others. Simon kept a hand on one of your flippers at all times, using it to pull you back beneath him if he decided you got too far for his liking; Johnny was too rough with his playing, bumping into you until you felt like your sides were going to bruise, sharp teeth threatening to break through your hide; Price treated every excursion like a mission, instructing you to swim at his hip, his head on a perpetual swivel. There was no chance to relax and let loose with them around, not like you could with Kyle.

So, it was him that took you out most days, guiding you out of the labyrinth of caves they called their home. His hand would stay on your back, preventing you from bumping into the rough, rocky walls, though they were of significantly less risk to you than any of the others, given how much smaller you were than them. 

You didn’t complain, knowing you were just minutes away from the closest thing to freedom you could get while the orca pod kept you under their fins.

As soon as you saw the light of the sun peeking through the shimmering undersurface of the ocean, his hand was gone and you were zooming off, letting out excited barks and yips. Kyle never worried himself with how fast or how far you swam, knowing he could effortlessly catch up to you. As long as you stayed within the zone of their territory, you were free to explore and dive and hunt as you pleased.

It was on one of these adventures that you finally found the nerve to ask, “You know, don’t you?”

Kyle was resting on the rocky topside of the opening of their cove, eyes closed, head tilted back. “Hm?”

Beside him, you laid on your stomach, head propped up on your folded arms. “That I’m not… not one of you.”

He was quiet for a long moment, long enough that you thought he chose to ignore you, before he answered. “I know.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then… why not say anything to them?” You tilted your head to the side to watch him, drawing aimless shapes in the thin layer of sand settled atop the rocks.

“Hard to argue with instincts,” he said. “Took me a while to figure it out. The others might not, or they might, doesn’t matter. You’re always gonna be our pup.”

“But I’m not a pup.”

“You look like one,” he informed you. “Smell like one, too. Won’t matter to them, to Simon and Price.”

Your hands clenched and unclenched, nails digging into your palms, the webbing between your fingers thinning as you spread them apart in an attempt to regulate your emotions. “Why not?”

He gave you a slight smile, one that was grim and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe they’ll tell you when you’re old enough.”

“I’m not a–”

“C’mon,” he interrupted your outburst, hand wrapping around your arm as he rose off the rocks. “Time we head back.”

His tone brokered no room for disagreement. His grip even less so.

Not proof read, average midnight writing 😿 also slight mentions of violence

Simon would totally be an half-orca merman!!

Orcas are such cruel creatures </3... they are scarily smart, able to trick their prey. In the rare cases where they feel merciful, you won't even know they are there before you're dead.

Of course, due to their brutish nature, you don't want to get caught up with such a creature when you're out at sea. So whatever shall you do when you come face-to-face with an orca hybrid?

It's strange, Orcas are known to travel in pods. However, he's completely alone. And instead of ripping you apart, he gently caresses your fear stricken face. He mumbles some words to you, what he thinks is English but is mostly jibberish besides a couple coherent words.

You can't help but pity the poor thing, he looks torn and tired. You come to the beach everyday, by the same rocks you met him at. You think if him nothing more as a friend, but he sees you as aonething so much more-- a life long mate.

I apologize for the lack of updates, this month has been a but crazy for me.

"Fuck, he shouldn't be up jet," "just get him in the water and leave." "If it was so easy, why don't you do it ?" " Because I don't want to touch that." "Pussy," "Boys, will you get this done already? We need that beast alive, so take the stick and punch him in" "JupJup" A loud plop came from the beast as it hit water. " Let's go"  "Never again"