(sry im obsessed with these aus)

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The afternoon sun gleams against the waves, the salt-kissed breeze tangling through your hair as you sit perched on the edge of the dock. The ocean stretches endlessly before you, shimmering and restless. Around these parts, fishing is more than just work — it’s life. Yet, every time you cast your line, there’s a lingering sense of unease.

The sirens.

The town’s warnings are whispered like gospel. Luring sailors to their doom, dragging them beneath the waves — creatures with tails like shadows and voices like temptation. You’ve never believed in those stories, but as your boat gently rocks, that fear still clings to the back of your mind.

The line jerks. Hard. You brace yourself, pulling back with all your strength. The water thrashes violently, something massive and powerful beneath the surface. Panic flares in your chest as you lean too far—

Splash.

The cold saltwater envelops you instantly. Disoriented, you claw at the waves, the weight of your soaked clothes dragging you down. Then, through the haze of bubbles, you see him.

A figure — pale skin, inky black hair fanning through the water. But it’s the tail that freezes you. Sleek, powerful, like an orca’s. Midnight black with white markings, cutting effortlessly through the sea.

A siren.

Before fear can take hold, strong arms wrap around you. The world blurs as you’re pulled upward, the ocean roaring in protest. You gasp for air as you break the surface, coughing and sputtering.

And then, there it is.

His grey eyes meet yours, gleaming with something unreadable. Water drips from his face, strands of dark hair clinging to his skin. His tail flicks behind him, the water parting easily beneath its strength. Yet, for all the monstrous beauty the town warned of, there’s no malice in his gaze. Only concern.

“You’re alright,” his voice is low, steady, though the way he holds you suggests he’s reassuring himself just as much.

The stories never mentioned this.*