#He's an orca!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

llamagoddessofficial · 7 months

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The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you.

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long.

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule.

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them.

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists.

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal.

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace.

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt.

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away.

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder.

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still.

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea.

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh?

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert.

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering.

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you.

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm.

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all.

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help?

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move.

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain.

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head.

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you.

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters.

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag.

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture.

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him.

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture.

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over.

Huh? What?

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were.

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away.

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement.

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

#commissions #hes a sneaky boy that one #not sneaky enough to not get stuck though apparently #calmest and nicest wild orca sans interaction

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naffeclipse · 26 days

Text

Sand and Sea

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have the pleasure of being commissioned by @missdreamyhead to write a fluffy and sweet fic for @tubbyartz's birthday! Happy birthday! I hope you have a lovely day! Enjoy a little slice of Orca!Eclipse and the reader in a tropical setting and spending time together in the water! <3

———

Eclipse meant what he said: he would hunt you down to the ends of the earth. There is nowhere you can go where he can’t find you, reach you and draw you back into the water into his sea salt embrace.

You find yourself rather content with such an arrangement. Leaving the Arctic wasn’t easy, not with how long you knew he would have to wait to find you again, but you sit on a warm, white sand beach. The ocean softly laps up against the land, eager to touch your toes and drench your ankles.

Where is he? Eclipse is not one to keep you waiting or to stay away from you. He couldn’t hardly keep his hands off of you when he did rediscover you again standing waist-deep in the shallows and eagerly snatching you up to admire you once more. It had only been a few weeks, but he greedily devoured you with his eyes as if he were a man who had been shipwrecked without food for days.

You hum and tap on your journal. There are a few interesting species growing on this island, especially of the fungal kind. You’ve kept yourself busy searching for mushrooms along the decaying wood. The rich moisture and the fallen trees lend to a beautiful crop of fairy inkcap mushrooms and oyster mushrooms.

Beyond the edges of your journal, the waves splash and toss further from the island, overturning softly with white crests and deep, aquamarine hues. The air is blissfully warm as it heats your skin. The sun shines brightly upon the pale grains of sand. You wiggle your feet a little deeper into the beach just to feel the ground shift and heat the top of your feet.

You couldn’t have gone farther from the frozen Arctic tundra if you tried. Eclipse doesn’t seem to care that these waters are not of his home—so long as he has you close by.

You feared for a time that these warm waters would be uncomfortable for him, so unlike the icy, gray wafts of his cold homeland. He reportedly told you that he is none too affected by the change save for getting used to the prey that he must snatch up around the shores of the island. The fish are not as tasty as seals, but he says it means little to him now that he has you.

You catch a sharp red dorsal fin cutting through the surface. You straighten where you sit on the beach, your heart picking up softly at the familiar sight. The water is crystalline and blue, giving way to a sharp shape of black and white and red just below the rippling surface.

There he is.

Setting your journal aside before it can get wet, you patiently brace for Eclipse to get your attention. You don’t have to wait for his head to rear. Framed in sharp, pointed frills, bleeding burnt orange and deep red hues like a darkening sunset, his face rises above the water with heavy trickles dropping back into the ocean. His black and white crescent mark face splits into a grin. Razor-sharp teeth flash in sheer delight.

He stops his shark-like approach, almost beached in the shallows. His tail waves slowly side to side and stirs up sand, clouding the space where he lies in anticipation. Resting on his elbows, his sleek and dangerous frame half submerged and revealing his beautiful, shiny pattern of black and white, Eclipse slowly lifts a hand. Arching a black-bone clawed finger, he grins.

“Come closer, mushroom,” he rumbles low, sweet and abysmal. He beckons with his fingers. “I want to see you.”

You lift your chin, a mischievous streak painting you with playful intent. You grin. Eclipse is already on guard, his wide eyes drilling into you with the intensity of twin suns, one yellow, and one red.

“But it’s so nice on the beach.” You reach down and pat the sand beside you. The heat of the sun warms it underneath your palm. “Won’t you join me?”

His grin turns harsher, askew. He lowers his hand but you watch it drag just underneath the water, cutting into sand and leaving ribbons in his wake.

“You will be so much warmer in my arms.” As if to emphasize this, he opens them to welcome you into his embrace. His claws curly slightly with a greedy need. “Come closer, my fairy.”

“I didn’t hear a please,” you answer, batting your eyelashes sweetly. “Besides, the sun is so warm already! If you joined me, you could find out for yourself.”

He will beach himself. You know he will, but he wants you in the water today. You see it in how his tail curls, almost as if to slap the surface with his frustrations but the game is still going. It’s his turn now.

Eclipse is no less spirited when he snaps his jaws. “Please, mushroom. I won’t beg again. Come closer. Let me hold you. Let me have you entirely.”

You brush your hair back over your shoulder. Fixing your red hat, mushroom in shape and dotted with small white specks, you slowly get to your feet. You stand, pushing Eclipse’s patience as you regard the water and then him with a mirthful smile.

“Come closer to me. Meet me halfway,” you press, flippant and challenging, all at once.

The orca siren snarls low, yet he never loses the glimmer in his gaze as he pushes himself up the shore. You balk internally, catch off guard at how quickly he beaches himself, his tail almost entirely out of the water as he regards you with a hunger bordering on something savage.

“I am here.” He presses a wet hand into the hand, pushing himself into a looming, threatening shadow over the sand. His one claws curl. Your insides bubble at his intensity. “Come. Closer. You only need to take a few steps to be mine.”

Softly, you take a step forward. His eyes flash to your toes curling in the sand and you hold your stance again. A growl rumbles through his chest. You shouldn’t enjoy this so much. He could have sang and already had you in his clutches, but he enjoys your feisty dares as much as you do. Holding yourself strong, you return his gaze unblinkingly.

“You have to be nice, or else I’ll swim far away.” You bite back a note of laughter.

Eclipse, however, does not. His pulsing chortle echoes, almost rippling over the waves in melodic amusement.

“Even in your siren form, you aren’t fast enough to escape from me.” He holds out a hand. The slickness of his palm, just inches away from snatching the edges of your pale dress. “But I will be good to you. I always am.”

You muse for a moment, and his gaze narrows in the slightest. You’ve reached the end of his rope.

“Be good, my little fairy.” His black bone claws turn underneath the sunlight, glinting wickedly, and you almost choke at how beautiful and terrible they are. “Come closer.”

You have resisted him for long enough. Teasingly, you walk slowly, stretching your stride and sinking into the sand. Eclipse shimmers slightly, almost drying out underneath the baking sun. His tail and fins shift anxiously as if he intends to pounce upon you. Once you move within reach, you can hardly blink before he captures your wrist and gently pulls you down with him.

You laugh once as he quickly covers you in his shadow. He’s been waiting far too long, you imagine. Your knees are propped on otherside of him as he bears down upon you, nearly pinning you underneath his weight before studying you slowly. His looming form provides a gentle reprieve from the harsh sunlight.

“You need to be good,” he reminds you. A deep rumble vibrates the very air and touches you. You gasp softly underneath him. A claw carefully brushes away a thick, dark brown lock of hair from your face. “I must always have you within reach.”

“You always grab me when you do,” you counter with a pointed look, but a smile traces your lips.

“I want to see you.” He lowers himself until he’s almost laying on top of you. His sleek body gleams and a few drops of water fall from the end of his head frills and onto the sand around you. “All of you. I want to feel how soft and sweet you are.”

Internally, you begin to melt. A softness washes over you, taking you underneath his gentle touch. The orca siren draws his fingertips carefully along your cheekbone, carefully memorizing the shape of your face. His slick touch leaves a residue of sea salt and water behind. It cools your skin gently. He parts his mouth and swipes his tongue over his rows of teeth. Your eyes follow the movement, captivated. He chortles.

“You want to see me as well,” he purrs. “You must have me close. You always want me here with you. Say it.”

You resist for a moment, a teasing retort somewhere in the back of your throat, but he takes hold of your chin and you are lost in his burning eyes. He is too stunning, too overwhelming. Your body is hot and molten.

Softly, you echo his words. “I do. I want you close to me.” You blush as you keep speaking, unable to resist the red surge in your cheeks. “I want you here with me. Always.”

“Good, my little fairy,” he drawls, and his grin widens with delight, “Come here. Swim with me in the water again.”

He gently tugs you further and further off the sand. You let him, carefully cradled in the strength of his arms, small and tiny in his embrace. You hide your face briefly in the crook of his shoulder. The scent of sea salt and a harsh musk like rime fills your nostrils, and you breathe easier.

The first touch of the water against your skin sends a shiver up your spine. Quickly, your body adjusts to the warm, soothing temperature of the water. The sand stirs, filling the shallows as Eclipse manages to flip his tail and bring you with him as the slope of land underneath your body falls lower, and lower still.

“Eclipse?” you ask softly. You touch his hands, holding them tighter to you as he begins swimming from the safety of shore. He easily keeps you above the lapping waves trying to drench your head and mushroom hat.

“I won’t allow you to sink,” the orca siren rumbles as sweetly as the lowest cords of bass in a song. Held to his chest, the water splashing your sides, you believe him. There is no place safer than within his arms. “I have missed your beautiful tail and how silky your hair becomes in the water. Let me see you like that again.”

He stops well within sight of the island. You turn within his embrace. His large hands rest on your waist and keep you afloat. A gentle shudder falls over you with the encouraging brush of his finger along your spine, pressing the fabric of your soaked dress against your skin.

“You swam with me yesterday.” You meant to answer with more resolve, more of a teasing bite, but it leaves your lips softly, as if reminiscing on how far he swam with you, the great reefs he helped you explore and then the sandy shore you both laid upon as you explained to him the nature of fungi and how beautifully and diverse they grow.

“I did. I want to see you again.” His gaze softens. His pelvic fins softly sway to keep him steady against the ever nudging presence of the tide. You watch his tail for a moment, breathless. His black and white colors strike out against the blues and his red and orange tipped flukes cut through the depths with ease.

His hand, slick and salty, cups your cheek. You fall softly into his embrace. Gently, you cup his much larger digits closer against your face.

“My little fairy. Swim with me,” he murmurs, raspy and yearning.

His voice lowers to a gentle hum as he presses you closer against him still. Your legs slide against his sleek flesh and your breath rattles out of your throat, overwhelmed by his closeness. How much he hungers for you. You close your eyes and nod gently.

“Alright,” you chuckle, “Just this once.”

But you’ve said that before.

Eclipse clicks a joyful series of sounds. His jaws clap as his hand cups the back of your head. Claws entangled with your long, brown locks. A smile tugs on the corner of your mouth as he closes the distance.

In the sea, the orca siren dips you low into a kiss, pulling you underneath the surface with a soft swirl of bubbles. The great eruption of magic and power flows into you, set free by his lips and gently pressed into your body, stirring up your marrow and lying over your skin. It is energy and love; it is the will of a siren who has claimed you as his mate.

He gently eases you back. You float softly in the water, but when your lips part, free of his magic and air, you freely intake water. Oxygen flows through you, keeping you buoyant and uncensored as any other fish who swim these crystal clear tides.

A sweet hum ripples through the water and washes over you. Eclipse eyes roam you freely, hungrily. Softly, you open your arms and look down at yourself, your dress still hanging wet and secure against your body but your legs are no more. Instead, a slender, flowing tail flicks through the sea. You’ve grown used to the waving motion of fins, flipping back and forth—though Eclipse often saves you from such effort by carrying you where you would like to go.

Long tendrils flow from your mushroom hat. Your senses awaken to the new appendages as they surround you like the tentacles of a jellyfish and your cap acting as the bell. Your hair flows freely through the water, softly twisting and waving. You gently push up your hat to gaze adoringly at Eclipse.

His hands find your waist and gradually slide down. His palms are large, almost squeezing you with his adoration before he brushes a hand softly over a red flowing fin, dotting in white not unlike your mushroom cap.

His eyes glimmer. A tenderness fills his frame while softly, he admires your stunning new form. It is thanks to him you can even experience the sea in such a way. You wonder if your red tail stands out too much or if the vivid yellow tendrils falling down from your cap are too strange to a siren, but Eclipse easily brushes those aside to meet you underneath the water. His mouth parts and a few bubbles escape. His lips mouth words of sweet nothing.

You blush fiercely when he takes your face gently in his hands. You breathe softly as he draws nearer. His claw carefully traces the shell of your ear, following the sharp point and admiring it as if it were sea glass or a treasured seashell. How he looks at you, how he holds you spills over with cherishment that sets your heart aflame. It is a miracle the water around you doesn’t bubble and fizz when he at last pushes aside the last of the ocean separating you and captures your mouth sweetly in a kiss.

The gentle pressure of his presence trickles into you, filling you like an empty well given fresh rain. You trace his arms. Underneath your touch, you marvel at the lithe cords of muscle tucked underneath his sleek, shiny skin. His claws wickedly trace the corners of your jawbone until you let out a soft, sweet sound of awe.

He parts from you gently and grins like a shark with the prey already between his teeth.

Gently, he turns and tugs on your hand. You follow with a flick of your tail, your soft, translucent fins seemingly more for beauty than any speed or agility akin to an orca siren.

Eclipse told you when he first changed you with his siren song that you are perfect. Though you don’t have his teeth and talons, he promises to protect and provide for you. You always thought he was far too eager to serve, to give you everything, but his love has always been like a floodtide, washing you out to sea with the force of it.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

His flukes flick carefully, minding how you fit along his side. Even in a siren form, you are tiny in comparison to his natural streamline body and cutting-edge fins. You don’t mind. Eclipse has tried to feed you fish time and time again and you refused, opting to wait until you had your human legs back to find food and feast.

Towards the back end of the island, the trees grow too dense and the ground too muddy and slick to traverse well, but through the water, you arrive without an ounce of difficulty.

Eclipse gently takes you by the arms, guiding you forward while he swims you faster than you could have hoped. A beautiful reef teams with life, bursting with colors in dozens of corals and darting with tiny fish and creatures who propel and jump and dash through the aquamarine and sunshine dazzling the ground.

You marvel. Your hand softly flies to your mouth as you gaze at the vision. Gently, you reach for Eclipse’s hand. He slows enough for you to push your mushroom cap up, peeking out from underneath, and beam at him with all your might.

Eclipse chortles. He doesn’t speak in the water but he doesn’t have to. You show him how pleased you are, and softly, while twirling one of your yellow tendrils gently around his finger, Eclipse glides with you over the reef to admire the beautiful wildlife.

#naff's writing commissions #apex polarity #orca!eclipse #he's so cute here and just loving all over y/n hehe <3 #naff writing

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