A/N: Siren!AU. Warnings- death, drowning, hypnotism.

It was beautiful out at sea, he thought from his perch in the crow's nest above the deck. Albeit the breeze was chilly and it'd sweltered like never before that afternoon with no cloud cover, but he was comfortable with the colder temperature then. Perhaps, he considered, he was just warm-blooded.

But it was beautiful in the twilight. The ocean was a vast scape of black and the water reflected brilliant oranges and yellows from the waning light of the scarlet sunset. How it stole his breath, absolutely captivated him like he was a painter and it was his muse. And in a sense it was, he thought, if he'd left law school to become a sailor.

"Hey,"

He turned his attention to his shipmate as they climbed over the squatty wall of the nest. He smiled faintly at Yukio, a young man just three years younger than he and recruited about the same time. They'd been long-time friends by then, though he wondered if it was considered a friendship when all they did was bicker.

"Evening," he responded.

"I'm here to take over watch. You get some rest." Yukio said, shoved him aside as he pulled his poncho closer around him.

"I'm good for a couple hours more." He retorted. "Go play cards with the rest of our shipmates for awhile more."

"Hell no. You've been up here since before dawn. Go to sleep, you masochist. It was quieting down there when I left so you shouldn't have much trouble" His friend snorted then, and he yelped he stole his telescope.

"Fine," he grunted then. "I'll see you in the morning." He hauled himself over the edge of the nest then and slid down the ladder. He landed on his toes and strode barefoot down into the hull. To Yukio's word, it was quiet and the lanterns dimmed as sailors slept. He found his cot and laid in it, and his eyes fluttered shut in his sudden onset of exhaustion. The rock of the ship was like a cradle, and he was swaddled in the smell of salt water. It soothed him like a babe and he was consumed by darkness before he even knew.

His eyes fluttered open then, and he sat up as his ears twitched to catch the quiet melody from outside. It was barely audible- muffled through the planks and his shipmates as they snored. But it was there, he knew, like he knew when his sister called for him when she was downstairs and he'd closed the door to his room in the back of the house.

Curious, he swung his legs over the edge of his cot, plucked the lantern off a barrel close to him, and he quietly lit it before he tiptoed up a set of steps to the deck.

He heard it from the sea- tender, affectionate, ethereal notes from the waves that echoed the air like the night sky was a rocky cavern deep below the earth. He held his lantern above his head, peeked over the edge, and squinted into the sea's black depths. It couldn't have sung on its own, he thought, unless the waves had suddenly acquired a voicebox.

He watched as the water rippled, squinted into it and he bent. He almost wished it was day then so he could see what it was with such a sweet voice. The mystery uneased him. Parts of him warned that he should pull away- he would be swallowed whole, it said, with no trace left behind-, but in the end, his wonder won out.

A halo of ebony surfaced then, a billow of smoke almost suspended in the salt water. His breath caught in his throat as white emerged from the water level, and he shuddered as his gaze connected with inky orbs streaked with pale gold from the lantern light, and as a full head emerged from the depths, it felt as if he was shoved under an ice bath.

Its- whatever it was. It reminisced a woman with a shapely figure and effeminate features, but he was hesitant to call anything with abyssal black eyes and needle incisors a woman- alabaster arms circled his neck, laced its fingers behind his crown, and its lips brushed against his. His heart fell into his gut as his gaze rested on its sleek, scaly tail. It was a siren, he thought, and chills ran down his spine and rooted him in place as its sweet song echoed in his ear.

He felt a quick pinch on his lip and his fear melted away. He would've been frightened how quickly it had him in its clutches if he could've, its venom so potent to immediately disarm him in a single heartbeat. But its honied song swaddled him like a lover, like the sea, and extinguished his every single worry. All was fine in her arms, he thought.

He dropped the lantern and it tumbled into the ocean, the splash of its loss ironically lost to him. His arms circled her waist, mindful of the taper of her leathery spine. He teetered over the rails with her as he tucked his face into her shoulder and kissed the salt off her flesh. He felt her lean away from him then to his displeasure- he wanted her so close- and he followed her with incoherent whines until he tipped over the rail and plunged into the sea with her.

Water filled his lungs then, flooded his nose and mouth and washed down his throat. But it was painless- her song was the opiate that stole all his hurt and her gaze and soothed his ailments. It was all fine in her arms, even as he sunk; as the pressure of the water squeezed his organs and cracked his ribs. He felt fine. Euphoric even, he would've argued. She made everything alright. The only time he felt even a little afraid was when his vision spotted black and he couldn't see her, but he felt her as she kissed him and was fine as he drifted to sleep.