Chapter Text
Arthur was hungry.
He was floating, gently rocked by the tide, taking in the far-away harbor in the darkness. There were faint lights, candles and fires; not bright enough that a human would’ve seen them from almost half a mile away, but Arthur’s eyes worked much better than any human's in the dark. At least, that’s what he’d noticed throughout the years. There was a reason humans were easy prey once the sun went down.
Arthur had settled on a good spot. He knew plenty of ships passed here on their way to the harbor, and it was close enough to shore that sailors were lulled into a false sense of security. In the best case, they were tired and tipsy, just dying for their shore leave and hoping for a woman’s touch.
Arthur also needed to be on a ship’s immediate route, close enough that he could be seen. Other sirens could lure in sailors from hundreds of yards away, large enough to seem closer than they truly were, but Arthur was just barely bigger than the average man. He knew his hunts were far more successful nearer to the shore. There was less competition as well, in waters as shallow as these.
They weren’t many in number, sirens of this sea. It was common to hunt within a school, but with Arthur’s size and his… unorthodox luring methods, he’d ended up hunting alone decades ago.
He’d been working with a mentor figure since he was young, bringing the older siren humans and their possessions in exchange for the security of something like a part-time school. A guardian angel for a price. Arthur had friends in that group. His mentor genuinely cared for him. He wasn’t alone.
But Arthur worked alone, and this night was no different.
He floated patiently, purring to himself to tap into his voice. Arthur wasn’t a singer, the rasp of his hum making his skin burn in shame. He sang just like any other siren to attract the attention of his victim, but most of his work was done by his skin and scales. He had failed enough hunts by trying to use only his voice to rely on that alone.
Arthur rotated his hands just underneath the surface, seeing the slight vibrations in the water. His dark blue fingers, webbed between and adorned by long, sharp nails, were starting to pulsate slowly in light that shone brightly in the black water.
It didn’t take long for Arthur to spot a small ship on the horizon. Fishing boat, by the looks of it. Arthur trailed his hard tongue softly against the back row of his teeth. Smaller crews could keep an eye on each other easier than larger ones, which could be an issue.
Well, if he was spotted by someone other than the victim, he could just swim to the next town on the next island. It wasn’t like he was attached to this specific island.
Arthur swam slowly on the surface, smelling the wind while keeping his gaze on the lights of the ship. Slightly North. He could be heard from a nearby rock formation.
Arthur’s tail splashed on the surface as he switched direction, the water reflecting the pulsating glow he was emanating. Arthur painted the sea in shades of green and blue, knowing very well it could hypnotize any prey from a close enough distance. Close being the tricky part.
Climbing on the rocks was treacherous, the surface slippery and rough — Arthur’s strong arms shook with exertion at the end of the short climb. His tail was sturdy, but his stomach was soft and the gills on his sides scraped easily. He recovered fast, but a scratch on a gill hurt enough that he would avoid any nicks if possible.
The ship was getting closer. Still not close enough for Arthur to be visible to humans, but he’d rather set the bait too early than too late.
Arthur shuffled to lay on his side, brushing his hair to cover his chest while leaning on his elbow. He hummed as his claws brushed through his strands, covering the gills on his neck and under his breasts. He’d figured out the easiest ways to hunt during his years; the most important lesson was that humans weren’t keen on fucking things that were obviously not human. Leave things for the imagination. Try to look slightly more human. They’ll ignore the tail and the claws if your cleavage is visible enough.
Arthur exhaled slowly and drew in a big breath. He hummed in a low voice, letting the resonation of his gills tune in with his glow. He could be louder. He could be brighter. Setting the trap was always awkward at first, but once Arthur got into it, luring the prey was rewarding — in multiple ways.
The ship was now close enough for his voice to be heard on board. Maybe someone would be on deck, keeping a lookout for the shore? The rock Arthur was laying on was in the line of sight if that were the case. Arthur clenched his fists, focusing on shining his light brighter.
There was a small reflection, a glint of light on the starboard side of the ship. It was immediately recognizable as a looking glass, and Arthur felt his tail shiver at that. He was heard. He was noticed.
He was echoing with hunger and anticipation.
Arthur hummed softly. There was a reason he wasn’t asked to go hunt with other sirens — his voice was rough and didn’t always work out. It had been disheartening, growing up, and seeing how a siren much more beautiful than him could sing and lure in sailor after sailor, never failing to catch their attention and feeding on them.
Arthur knew what failing felt like. He knew the deep and intimate shame when he was passed over, or when an overboard sailor didn’t seem that entranced by him.
A song was enough for other sirens. Arthur had to use other means as well.
It was normal for a siren to glow lightly to stand out in the dark mass of water, but that’s usually all it was — a light to indicate a point of interest, and nothing else. With a few too-close calls Arthur had realized that he could control his glow, make it brighter, make it flash, make it interesting and bright enough to stun.
Once a sailor was at arm’s reach, confused by the light, all that was needed was a kiss.
With that contact, Arthur could push a toxin into their mouths with his saliva. Just something to take the edge off when he first bit into the victim, making them relaxed and unable to fight back. Sometimes they were too eager in the moment, grasping at Arthur in ways that left him breathless, waiting a moment too long before drugging them.
Arthur had never let a sailor have his way with him.
He knew sometimes sirens did that — it was hard to avoid, with the way they hunted. Some liked it, he’d heard. Not often and never as anything other than fun, though. Arthur had heard the meat tasted different after letting the sailor mate, but he wasn’t interested in trying it out. Mating with your food as an appetizer didn’t sound appealing in any sense. If he wanted to mate he could do that with other sirens.
Arthur’s eyes followed the ship and its wake. He kept humming and flashing, hoping that someone would catch his bait.
The wait seemed endless until there was a harsh splash heard from near the hull.
The fins on the sides of Arthur’s head perked, catching the sounds of deep, desperate gasps just above the surface.
That’s it.
There were no yells of a man overboard, which made Arthur’s tail flap out of excitement. He would be feeding soon.
Arthur leaned forward on his rock, listening intently to the sounds of that sailor in the sea. Not all sailors were great swimmers, and sometimes he had to go and drag them out of the water. That was always risky, as a person trashing for their life was less likely to fall to Arthur’s lure. It would be better if he made his way to his rock out of his own volition.
His fins flapped slightly as he heard the telltale sounds of swimming. The sailor wasn’t visible against the dark sea, but Arthur could smell him. He could smell the excitement and the need on him, and it wouldn’t be long until he could feel his victim’s warmth.
Arthur purred with more force, his skin shivering in rhythm with his glow. He brought a hand mindlessly to the vertical slit on the underside of his tail, tracing the scales around it with his nails. The sensation made him shiver slightly, increasing his luminosity.
At last, Arthur saw his victim. The first thing he noticed was long, curly black hair, floating mesmerizingly on the surface of the water. As the sailor approached, Arthur noted strong arms swimming surely toward the rock he was lying on. He had a white cotton shirt, soaked almost translucent in the water, but still bright against the black sea.
Strong hands grasped the bottoms of the rocks, a wave hitting the stone at the same time. The sailor’s hand slipped and he grunted, probably in pain as a sharp edge caught his palm. Arthur sprung forward on the rock, leaning over the edge to grab the stranger’s arm. Arthur preferred his food alive — it would taste nasty if he hit his head on the wet rock and died. Panic spoiled meat.
The sailor said something breathily, accepting Arthur’s hoist up to the rock. Arthur stumbled backward on his tail when he got the man on the surface, his considerable weight rocking Arthur’s balance.
Arthur let out a small sound as he staggered, balancing himself with his hand. It wasn’t only the tumble that made him gasp as he lifted his gaze to take in the man he had saved.
The sailor was on his knees, gasping for breath. His white cotton shirt was see-through and clung to his big arms and ample breasts, the few undone buttons framing the skin on his dark chest. The stranger’s long hair was clinging to his face and neck, which made the man swipe the strands away with a shaky hand. His hand was bleeding from the scrape caused by the rock. Arthur’s fins perked and gills shivered. The sailor was meaty, bulking with healthy muscle and fat. He was young, as well, probably around his thirties. In his prime. Beautiful.
The sailor said something else when he caught his breath. His voice was low but soft, very pleasing in its sound. Arthur blinked, focusing on making his illumination brighter and flashing more frequently. The man stared at him openly, his mouth hanging agape as he was still breathing heavily. Arthur arched his back, reaching out to the man.
He was hot in the cool night, the heat of him radiating something fierce off his skin, which glowed in Arthur’s green and blue hues. Arthur swallowed, his raspy hum faltering as the man didn’t near him.
Arthur took a deep breath, letting his tail relax as he ran his claws over his slit again. It was a desperate gesture, meaning to rile Arthur up as much as the sailor. He was so close to getting him alive — fumbling now would be a grave disappointment.
The man spoke again, tilting his head softly as he leaned in closer. It was working. Arthur pushed his chest forward, shining as bright as he could. The sailor’s eyes wandered down, and he shakily brought a hand on Arthur’s chest.
Arthur sighed out of relief, leaning in closer as well. His mouth flooded with the familiar, thick saliva, the one that tasted sweet and caused sailors to go limp in his embrace.
The sailor continued speaking, and this time Arthur focused on the words. English. From the North, not from the East.
“So beautiful,” Arthur could make out of the running sentences. He swallowed, not used to his victims getting wordy with him. “God,” the man gasped, squeezing Arthur’s chest with his bloodied hand, bringing his other one to Arthur’s cheek. “Never seen anything like you before.”
Arthur’s fins shuddered and he brought his hand on top of the one that was resting on his cheek. It was so warm and the touch was so certain, it made Arthur’s stomach swirl. He was truly hungry for this man.
Arthur’s wishes came true when the man almost crawled on top of him, pressing their lips together. The gesture was so soft, coming from a big man who just swam almost a hundred yards to Arthur. Men possessed like that were rarely gentle.
Arthur whimpered, taken aback by the gesture, and melted into the kiss. The man’s lips were hot on his, salty and softer than anything he had ever kissed. He moaned slightly into Arthur’s mouth, rocking softly against his hips. Arthur gasped loudly between the kisses, realizing there was a hard length pressing against his tail just over his slit. That was a first.
The sailor let out a needy sound, kissing him with more vigor. Arthur closed his eyes, letting his claws run over the man’s broad back, basking in his warmth and eagerness.
Arthur shuddered as he vaguely remembered what he was supposed to do, taken wildly aback by the fact that he had stopped spewing out his venom. He flashed brightly, squeezing the man’s back as he slowly started pushing his saliva into the man’s mouth.
Arthur moaned as the sailor squeezed his breast and rutted against him. He had never before entertained the thought of going any further than kissing a human, but the heated flashing that had taken over his luminance felt satisfying on too many levels. Arthur could feel his insides turning into mush, especially the front of his tail which was warming up in an unprecedented way.
The man broke their sloppy kisses with a gasp, running his hands on Arthur hungrily. His warm touch made Arthur shiver, and for those precious moments, nothing but the sailor was real. His brown eyes reflected Arthur’s glow and his lips turned into some kind of anticipatory smile. His expression was slow but filled to the brim with something Arthur couldn’t parse.
“You’ll be the death of me,” the man said in a low voice, Arthur’s venom already making him slur his words. Arthur blinked, his light brightening as his head fins flicked. “I think I’ll love you until I die.”
It was the most bizarre reaction Arthur had ever witnessed to being poisoned. Firstly, the man was still responsive and focusing his eyes, no matter if Arthur had been spitting into his mouth for far longer than any victim had ever endured. His touch was shaky but still strong, and Arthur couldn’t help but endure the fast beat of his own heart and the heat of their skins pressed together, warm human and luminescent siren touching in the night like twisted lovers of some sort.
Arthur took a deep breath, pulling the man in once again by his suspenders. The sailor moaned, hands wandering on Arthur like they were making a home on his skin. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out how good the man felt, trying to focus on hungry, hungry, hungry.
The man’s hands traced Arthur’s gills, making Arthur break the kiss and hiss at him loudly. The man quickly eased his touch.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quickly, bringing his hands to cradle Arthur’s face. His thumb traced Arthur’s cheek as their eyes locked together.
Those eyes. They were warm brown, and behind them was a deep sadness, something Arthur could almost smell on the man. No matter what their past held, right now they were alight with Arthur’s colors and reflecting something so full of adoration, Arthur couldn’t help but flap his tail softly.
Arthur took a shivering breath, chasing another kiss. He put his all into it, pushing as much of his thick venom into the man’s mouth as he could. He couldn’t stand being looked at like that. Being talked to like that. Being held like that.
Slowly, the man’s touch eased, his kisses became sloppy, and finally, his knees gave out under him. The sailor slumped against Arthur, who caught him with ease. He was paralyzed. Arthur had succeeded, and could finally treat himself to the meaty man he’d hunted. Arthur’s mouth was filled with saliva, but there was a sharp twist in his belly.
The sailor was still looking at him, eyes clearly focused on Arthur’s face. He gently eased the man on the rock on his back, his claws lingering on his face and neck, tracing his heavy chest lightly.
Arthur snapped his teeth, testing the give of his jaw. This was it. A good meal.
Arthur positioned himself on the sailor, touching his forearms, shoulders, tracing his chest and sides. He grabbed his thigh tightly, shuddering at the feel of the strong muscle under his claws.
He kept on going, just feeling the body under him. It was the best meat Arthur had ever caught — he should be buried in it already, face deep in the flesh, turning it into shreds with his teeth.
Arthur’s eyes traveled up the belly and the chest, the strong neck. His gaze stopped on his lips, bruised with kisses. Arthur mindlessly touched his own lips with his hand, missing the stranger's mouth on them. The man was breathing heavily, his eyes looking at Arthur in a way he’d never been looked at.
He leaned forward, smelling the flesh underneath him.
No fear. He had been worried there would be plenty with the way he was stretching this out. Instead, there was only desire and something else he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
Arthur brought his claws on the man’s neck, opening his mouth wide. A few seconds, and he closed his mouth. He puffed and repeated the gesture.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t bite into the sailor.
The man underneath him whimpered, a slight shake in his voice. Arthur tilted his head and leaned lower, close enough for their faces to brush together.
Arthur looked at the man, his uneven stubble, his brown eyes, his slit eyebrow, his scar on his right cheek. It was an interesting face. His lips. Bruised with kisses. Asking for more.
Arthur whined and leaned in to press a soft kiss on the lips.
It was slow and gentle, none of the hurry from earlier present on it.
As Arthur broke the kiss, he flashed brightly, (wait, was that his usual hue?) his fins flicking.
A sudden panic came over him like a strong wave, and Arthur let go of the sailor’s face. What the hell was he doing?
Arthur scrambled backward, knocking into the man’s legs with his tail. He let out a distressed sound, crawling over the man to get to the edge of the rock.
He turned around to see the man lying on his back on the rock, still paralyzed and unable to move.
In one piece, though. Not devoured.
Arthur slowly made his way down the side of the rock, his route made harder by the low tide. Arthur cursed in his mind as he splashed into the water, the first wave of the sea through his gills easing his panic.
Arthur’s chest was constricting, and it was not hunger that pained him no more.
At least not the kind of hunger that he was used to.