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#Shipwreck emergency

xtremeservers · 4 days

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Watching Senua emerge from a shipwreck o... https://www.xtremeservers.com/blog/senuas-saga-hellblade-ii-review/?feed_id=145184&_unique_id=664c7fe2daffd&Senua%27s%20Saga%3A%20Hellblade%20II%20Review

#Featured #PC #Reviews #bloodied #bruised #emerge #from #onto #PlayStation #Senua #shipwreck #shoreline #struggling #Watching

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streetsofdublin · 9 months

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HOWTH RNLI LIFEBOAT STATION

For nearly 190 years an all-weather lifeboat has launched into Dublin Bay from Howth and the crews have been honoured with 20 awards for gallantry.

SATURDAY 19 AUGUST For nearly 190 years an all-weather lifeboat has launched into Dublin Bay from Howth and the crews have been honoured with 20 awards for gallantry. Today the station operates both a Trent class lifeboat and an inshore D class lifeboat. The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) is the largest charity that saves lives at sea around the coasts of the United Kingdom,…

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#85mm GM lens #all-weather lifeboat #and the Isle of Man #Emergency Service #Founded in 1824 #FX30 #Howth #Ireland #Lifeboat #Lifeboat Station #National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck #RNLI #Royal National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck #Sony #the Channel Islands #United Kingdom

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phantomrose96 · 10 months

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The timeline for Pikmin 2 is so funny because like, Olimar's been missing-presumed-dead for an entire month (rightfully so, considering how very dead Olimar should have been with the events in Pikmin 1) and he escapes by the skin of his teeth and beelines it back home with the desperate desire to see his wife and children who've probably been starring on Dateline: Hocotate every day for the last month to be grilled about their tragically missing father.

And instead. Instead. The absolute literal second Olimar's ship docks down, his fucking boss of all people comes running out of the woodwork and shakes him by the shoulders going "Terrible news Olimar your new coworker fucked up and now we're $10 million in debt! Go immediately back to that planet you escaped from and hunt its wildlife to extinction in order to collect enough valuable treasure to pay this off."

Like we're not even gonna let Olimar brush his teeth huh? Not gonna shove some antibiotics in him for the undiscovered foreign pathogens clinging to his suit? This man survived 30 days on 10 days of emergency rations and probably a few bulborbs once he got hungry enough to no longer care about the parasites. Not a hello? Not a 'you're alive'? Not a coffee?

What the hell does this even look like from the President's perspective? Your shipwrecked presumed dead employee whose life insurance policy paperwork is sitting on your desk shows back up out of the literal sky, down 20% of his bodyweight covered in superficial injuries smelling like gangrene and carrying himself with the haunted and (no, dare I say, passionate?) look in his eyes of someone who has learned to indiscriminately kill for the sake of survival.

And your first thought is "oh thank god my single competent employee isn't actually dead. I need to exploit him as soon as possible."

President's so fucking lucky Olimar is both a broken salaryman and also deranged enough to find wonder in the hostile world that so very wants to rip him to pieces. If I were Olimar I'd have killed President and Louie on the spot.

#pikmin #pikmin 2 #olimar #chrissy talks pikmin

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girlonthelasttrain · 11 months

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There are several NGO-funded ships currently operating in the central Mediterranean Sea with the specific intent of saving migrants from what has been for years one of the deadliest migration routes in the world. Here is partial list:

Geo Barents (Médecins Sans Frontières)

Ocean Viking (SOS Méditerranée)

Aurora, Sea Watch 3 and Sea Watch 5 (Sea Watch)

Life Support (Emergency)

Open Arms and other ships (Open Arms)

Another important resource for migrants in distress at sea is the hotline AlarmPhone.

Since 2016 these rescue missions have become more and more onerous to fund as EU countries have progressively strengthened the Frontex program while at the same time criminalizing NGO-led search and rescue operations. (Italy has been at the forefront of this trend, and a shipwreck on the coast of Calabria in late February this year only managed to strengthen the resolve of the current government to make it even more complex for NGOs to try and rescue migrants.) So while it definitely won't solve the root issue, donating to these NGOs still has a tangible effect.

#only a partial list & please let me know if there are better sources or links are broken #apologies for the version circulating having spelling mistakes #'ong' is the Italian spelling for non-governmental organization

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i-am-still-bb · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 - No. 10 - Alt. No. 14 - Emergency blanket

DarkHawk T

Ross woke up to someone trying to break down his back door.

“What?” he demanded.

Cold wind swirled in through the back door and instantly dropped the temperature in the kitchen. The pounding rain made it impossible to see beyond the paved yard.

“There’s been a wreck,” the man said breathlessly. “On the cliffs just below here. Emergency services have been called, but we—”

“Need more hands,” Ross finished. The mention of a wreck shook the last of the sleep from his brain. “I’ll grab my equipment and then I’ll be down.”

Before the man left Ross pointed him in the direction of other homes where someone would be willing to go out in the storm to help whoever washed ashore from the wreck.

Ross kept a bag packed in the bottom of the hall closet for these rare occurrences. It was packed with first aid materials, emergency blankets, a couple monoculars, hand warmers, head lamps, flashlights, spare batteries, and heaps of individually packaged snack foods. Next to that bag was one that contained his water proof jacket, pants, gloves, and boots and a wool baselayer.

The wind was coming from the west; it kept him against the cliff face as he descended. Through the rain he could hardly see the dark beach below, but he did see the white hull of a large yacht being dashed against the dark rocks far from shore.

Figures on the beach with flashlights came into view as he descended.

“What needs to be done?” he shouted over the wind and the waves addressing a man in a bright yellow jacket who seemed to have taken charge.

“Just getting the poor souls to shore!” the man shouted back. “We were told that emergency services are more than an hour out! There’s been a lot happening tonight!”

Ross nodded. He opened his bag and flashlights and headlamps were quickly distributed among any volunteers who did not have their own.

Ross took one for himself and a monocular. Handwarmers stuffed into his pockets with a couple of the packaged emergency blankets Ross started walking the waterline.

Any shouts are lost to the thunder of the waves. At the first glimpse of a person fighting to keep afloat Ross was waist deep in the freezing ocean waiting to grab them and drag them to shore. Those without obvious injuries were given towels, an emergency blanket, hand warmers, and a cup of tea poured from a massive thermos that someone had dragged down to the beach.

Ross gave them the blanket and then pointed them to a tent that had been erected further up the beach near the cliffs. And then he returned to the waterline to watch for more. None so far had been able to give a number of how many people had been on board.

“There was a party. A lot of people I’d never seen before. And then extra staff,” someone shrugged.

“With a storm forecasted?”

Another shrug.

Ross gritted his teeth. What moron threw a party on a yacht out of harbour with such a large storm on the radar. He was cold. Water had leaked into his boots. His handwarmers had stopped working long ago. But he refused to accept a hot drink because he had not spent who knows how long fully submerged in the sea.

Emergency services brought flood lights and now the beach was a bright spot amid the 4am darkness.

Ross lowered the monocular when a hand touched his shoulder.

A police officer in his government issue slicker, “No one’s been sighted in over an hour. We’ll keep watching, and the storm is supposed to subside around daybreak. The coast guard’ll get vessels out there to see if anybody is left aboard. But, for now, there’s not much left to do. You can go home. We appreciate your help.”

Ross looked at the tent and the figures wrapped in blankets. “What about them?” He gestured.

“We’re still trying to get that set up, but given the hour is slow going. They’re not injured, just cold and wet, but in no danger of hypothermia.”

“Use my house,” Ross said. “There is plenty of space, couches and beds. And it’s warm and dry. And when something gets arranged they can be moved then.”

There was a general chaos getting people up the cliffs, across the field, and then settled into the house. Other volunteers helped. Spare clothes and blankets were pulled from closets and as sunlight started to peek over the horizon everyone was dry, warm, and had a place to lay down even if it was only a pile of blankets in front of the fire.

That was when Ross left the police officer and the other, more official, volunteers in the kitchen in search of his bed. He pushed open the door to see that his bed was already occupied. He had said every bed could be used. Ross stepped into the bathroom to change out of the clunky boots and salt crusted clothes.

Dressed in soft pyjama pants and a t-shirt Ross considered his dilemma. The bed was a king. There was more than enough room for both of them. But Ross did not want to appear to be taking liberties. He grabbed one of the last blankets left in the trunk and lay down on top of the covers. The other person was under them. Ross reasoned that that should provide enough of a barrier between them. He looked at his unexpected bed companion for a second—damp, dark blonde hair, and freckles across the nose—before closing his own eyes and falling asleep before he even had a chance to try.

The room was bright and warm when he woke up, late afternoon.

Pale blue eyes were looking at him from the other side of the bed.

“Sorry,” Ross said with a stretch. “Everywhere else was full.”

The other man shrugged.

“I’m Ross. Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your hair. There might be word about what they were going to do with you all.” Ross inelegantly climbed out of the bed.

The other man sat up. The duvet slipped down revealing that he was dressed in one of Ross’ uni shirts. “I’m Jim.”

#whumptober2022 #alt. 14 #emergency blanket #return to treasure island #poldark/return to treasure island #poldark #fic #shipwreck #rain #cold #bb writes #whumptober #darkhawk #and there was only one bed #or more there were 8 beds and 9 people

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theinnerunderrain · 4 months

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Turmoil at Sea [Yan!Merman x Fem!Reader]

Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, description of violence, I saw a video of orcas hunting and wanted to write something abt it, disturbing content.

"Marlin."

With a shaky voice, you called out to the merman lurking beneath the dark depths of the water. Your eyes danced wildly along the watery surface, desperately seeking a glimpse of him.

"Please come out. You're scaring me."

On hands and knees, you clung to the meager wooden surface that barely qualified as a makeshift raft, the sole lifeline between you and the vast expanse of the ocean. The survival itself was a stroke of fortune, remnants of a shipwreck etching haunting memories – cannon balls piercing through ship walls, the frantic cries of the crew in a desperate quest for safety.

"Marlin!"

You attempt once more, your voice rising in volume and gaining a sharper edge. Splashes of water collide with the raft, showering your bare ankles. The once elegant gown, worn for your birthday celebration, now serves as your sole source of warmth. Your left thigh is wrapped in makeshift bandages fashioned from scattered scarves found amidst the vast sea. Slowly edging toward the raft's edge, you strained to peer through the dense water veil, only to be met with an impenetrable darkness that revealed nothing but a faint reflection of yourself. With eyes reddened, pallid skin, and hair beginning to knot after enduring two weeks adrift at sea, your physical state mirrored the harshness of your oceanic ordeal. The scent that clung to you was a noxious blend of fish and seaweed, the very sustenance provided by the merman. Surprisingly, you marveled at your resilience, having somehow endured the consumption of raw, uncooked meat without succumbing to its potentially fatal consequences.

Abruptly, a hand emerged from beneath the water, prompting you to swiftly retreat to the safety of the raft's center. The owner of the hand revealed himself to be none other than the merman, Merlin, whose expression conveyed clear disdain. His hand extended, torso flat against the raft's surface, and intense ocean eyes locked onto you.

"..M..Marlin."

He remains unresponsive to the sound of your name, his long blue tails faintly visible as they linger within the water. After a moment of uninterrupted gaze, he finally speaks, his voice flowing like a smooth seam of silk, captivating in its beauty. The sunlight above did little to forsake his beauty; instead, it gracefully highlighted his features, casting an enchanting aura that rendered him majestic, akin to a water nymph.

"Do you truly despise me that much?"

"What..?"

A bitter laugh escapes him as he withdraws his hand, crossing his elbow to rest his chin against his forearm. His dark hair cascades down, lightly sticking to his chin, a subtle dampness lingering. One can't help but marvel at how a being like him manages to thrive in the frigid waters, contemplating the preservation of his skin and hair—unchanged and undamaged, a testament to their enduring beauty.

"You've proven yourself quite clever, manipulating me into scavenging for food. Quite the strategist, aren't you?"

"I do not understand.."

Your brows furrow slightly at his words, perplexed by the notion that you might be using him to scavenge for food. After all, it was he who volunteered to assist you, the one who rescued you from the wreckage and gently placed your body onto the raft. During the night of the celebration, you discerned his presence beneath the water, catching a fleeting glimpse of his exquisite tail. Despite your observation, your crewmates dismissed him as a mere swordfish or dolphin, oblivious to the captivating mystery that lingered beneath the waves.

"You're exploiting me for your survival, only to abandon me once other humans come to your rescue, aren't you?"

"Certainly not! Once I set foot on solid ground, I am determined to find every possible way to express my gratitude for your kindness."

He scoffed at your words, finding your naivety simultaneously endearing and tinged with folly. Your captivating gaze drew him in, becoming the sole reason Marlin chose to rescue you amidst the entire ordeal. Although not inherently fond of humans, he found solace in the radiant brightness and warmth emanating from your eyes—a quality seldom witnessed through the eyes of pirates or the sailors he had encountered along his journey.

"Do you genuinely think fellow humans would permit such a scenario? If anything, they'll likely exploit that pretext as justification to pursue and hunt me down."

You dismiss his words with a subtle shake of your head, lips forming a tight line as you attempt to speak over him, any method to reason with him.

""Don't worry. I'll reassure them that you pose no threat. I can even persuade my father to consider implementing legislation concerning the pursuit of seamen!"

"My dearest human, it's not as straightforward as it may seem. Even if your father possessed the authority to enforce such a rule, do you believe those who exploit my kind for gain would genuinely adhere to it?"

"B..but it truly is!"

"It is not."

""Marlin, if you assist me in finding my way home, I am prepared to fulfill any wish or desire you may have forsaken. I give you my word—I am willing to do anything."

Marlin fixed his gaze upon you, his laughter crackling as if your words were nothing more than a comedic jest. Your face flushed with embarrassment, the dignity befitting a lady tarnished and mocked amidst the vastness of the ocean. After a few moments, Marlin succeeded in stifling his laughter, pressing his head onto the wooden surface of the raft. He pushed himself up, grinning at you once more.

"Given your persistent stance and reluctance to reconsider, it appears you are determined to return to your modest homeland."

He inhales deeply, then eases himself off the raft, submerging more than half of his body in the sea. His head emerges as the sole visible part, and his long, dark hair ripples in the water, reminiscent of the seaweed depicted in the textbooks you frequently borrowed from the library.

"Well. You leave me with no other choice."

He gracefully plunges back into the water, his form seamlessly vanishing into the azure depths. Your fist tightens as you attempt to fathom his intent, but before clarity settles, he emerges near you. His tail propels a considerable amount of water, conjuring a substantial wave that gracefully cascades onto the raft, drenching everything. A surprised yelp escapes you as the water meets your palm, and you swiftly realize you're gradually sliding toward the edge.

You successfully maintain composure for most of the ordeal, believing his juvenile outburst had concluded. However, your apprehensions materialize as you witness him rapidly approaching, his tail propelling him through the water with increased speed. The waves generated this time are more substantial, causing the raft to sway significantly. As the waves hit and water infiltrates beneath the raft, your last semblance of remaining afloat teeters.

It's over.

A second scream escapes your throat as the waves crash around you. The raft, teetering slowly, slips from your grasp, and you plummet into the cold embrace of the ocean. The frigid water engulfs your senses as you struggle to stay afloat, the taste of salt seeping into your mouth and nose, inducing a stinging sensation. Despite the pain, your eyes stay open, but water bubbles cloud your vision, leaving you disoriented in the underwater turmoil.

"[First Name]."

Even as the water filled your ears, a cold hand firmly gripped your torso, preventing you from descending deeper into the ocean's depths. Through your hazed vision, a pair of bright blue eyes and a mop of dark hair came into view, confirming that it was Marlin who held you.

"..N...No..!"

Your attempts to speak result in nothing but muffled cries, your struggle to wriggle free and rise toward the air and sunlight impeded by his unrelenting grip. Your body yielded to an inexplicable force, surrendering to his control like an underwater puppet. In a fleeting instant, a sensation of cold and softness grazed your lips. Uncertain in your disoriented state, you couldn't be sure if it was Marlin's lips pressing against yours, but the moment lingered in a haze of confusion.

As time slipped away, the diminishing air began to weigh on you, involuntarily coaxing your mouth open and allowing water to seep into your lungs. Your ears, now entirely filled with water, rendered Marlin's words muffled and distant.

Observing your distress, Marlin placed an additional hand on your stomach. His fingers, accompanied by sharp nails, delicately traced along your bare skin, adding an unsettling dimension to your already harrowing struggle. As the sands of time trickled away, you strained to discern the letters, your grasp on survival slipping through the narrowing hourglass.

The first letter being, "I". You could feel Marlin pulling you deeper into the ocean.

The second letter being, "L". The salt in your lungs were too much to bear.

The third letter being, "O". You can't see a single thing, your vision being nothing but complete darkness.

The fourth letter being "V". Oh God, you're going to die.

Before comprehension could settle, your body succumbed, surrendering to the relentless force of the deep. As your consciousness slipped away, the haunting echo of those unfinished letters lingered in the underwater silence.

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dinodude52 · 11 months

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Okay, let's talk about the Titanic

Because I'm autistic and the Titanic was one of my special interests as a kid and that submersible has reignited my interest a little bit.

There were enough lifeboats. The controversy about the lifeboats came from the fact that the original designers wanted more lifeboats, but they downsized the number of boats to clear up the deck. There were regulations in place to ensure there were enough boats on all White Star Line ships. With the few collapsible boats they included on the ship, they had enough boats. The problem was they didn't fill them properly during the evacuation. Edit: I say there were enough lifeboats but I doublechecked and realized I miss remembered. The Titanic was equipped with the legally required number of lifeboats at 20 (16 on deck and 4 collapsible). The assumption had been that, in the even of an emergency, they would have the ability to be rescued fairly quickly and the lifeboats could be used to carry people to safety on repeated trips. Unfortunately, the closest ships were still too far away. The Carpathia was the rescue ship despite being further away than the closest ship to the Titanic, the Californian.

"Women and children first" wasn't the norm for shipwrecks. Typically, women and children made up the majority of the dead during such tragedies. To my knowledge, only two shipwrecks have done "women and children first," and they are most definitely the exceptions, not the rule.

On that note, one of the reasons the lifeboats weren't filled properly was because the crew on one side of the ship interpreted Captain Smith's command as "women and children first" while the crew on the other side of the ship interpreted the command as "women and children only."

The majority of the dead were third class passengers. Some did survive, but the majority didn't.

There were also a number of dogs that perished on the ship, though some did survive.

The ship wasn't going any faster than it was supposed to.

As for the ice field, they were skirting the bottom edge of said ice field. Where they were passing through, the icebergs were supposed to be pretty small.

The iceberg the Titanic collided with was unusually large for that time of year and for the location it was floating in. The weather conditions of the time made the ocean much colder than usual so the iceberg didn't have the chance to melt as much as it could have.

Though the lookouts didn't have binoculars, the sky was clear and the ocean was calm that night. If there was an iceberg, by all accounts they would have been able to see it, though it's suspected that the calm seas might have actually been a hinderance to spotting the iceberg rather than the help the lookouts assumed it would be.

On the topic of spotting the iceberg, recent research suggests that due to some atmospheric weirdness, the horizon line looked higher than it actually was. I don't remember the specifics, but it had something to do with the calm ocean and warm air from the south mingling with cool air from the north. It was also an exceptionally cold night that night, according to survivors, which might have aided the optical illusion. With the horizon looking higher than it was, the iceberg would have either looked smaller and further away than it was, or it could have been hidden completely.

The way the Titanic was built, it was explicitly designed to take damage head-on rather than from the sides. If the ship had stayed course instead of turning, it would have survived. It would have taken significant damage, but it would have stayed afloat.

The rivets used to connect the steel plates on the side of the Titanic were made of iron, I think, and an impure iron at that. The iron became brittle from the cold water so when the iceberg scraped against the side of the Titanic, the seams ripped apart like a zipper. The rivets failed completely.

The survivors of the wreck reported seeing the Titanic break in half, but no one believed them (probably because many of the survivors were women). It wasn't until the wreckage was found that the truth was known: the Titanic broke in half.

Though the lifeboats did their best to stay in a group, a few boats ended up floating away. The bodies were recovered some time later. Many retrieval efforts were dispatched over a handful of weeks after the tragedy. They were never able to recover all the bodies, and I think they only managed to recover about 100 out of 1500 bodies, give or take. They took the bodies back to Halifax in Canada where the Titanic was supposed to dock first. There's a memorial there and the unclaimed bodies have been buried there as well.

If there were bodies trapped inside the Titanic as it was sinking, there weren't any bodies once it hit the bottom of the ocean. And there definitely weren't any bodies when the wreckage was found in the 80's. The pressure would have destroyed them, bacteria and deep sea creatures would have eaten whatever was left. They would have decomposed.

As they were attempting to recover the bodies, a search and rescue team did find the iceberg the Titanic hit. They knew it was the true iceberg because it still had paint from the hull on it.

I went to the Titanic museum in Orlando once a long time ago and it was wonderful in a tragic way. My favorite part of the tour was a small section where the deck was recreated, including a bench you could sit at and a wall covered in black cloth and lights to look like stars. It was cool, but not cold, and was set to replicate the night of the disaster. Sitting on the bench, you could really feel what it was like to be on the Titanic the night it sank. The next room you entered was a room with a piece of the hull, and then after that another room filled with the names of everyone on the ship. If the name was lit, the person lived, but if it wasn't, the person died. You got a card with information about a real passenger at the beginning of the tour and in that final room you learned if your passenger survived or not. I still have my card somewhere, but I'm not sure where. I can't remember the name of the passenger on my card (this was 7 or 8 yrs ago by now) but he was a third class passenger, one of the few who survived, and unfortunately his wife and all his children perished. The panels with the names were set up by class, and the most heartbreaking part was seeing the panels with the third class passengers and how many names weren't lit.

And those are my Titanic facts. IDK what it is about this ship, about this wreck, that captures our imaginations in such an intense way. I used to check this book out of the school library about the Titanic and read it over and over again. I was obsessed. Still am, apparently.

Note: This was all from my memory so if my facts aren’t quite right, I apologize. It’s been *years* since I’ve gone down a proper Titanic rabbit hole.

#titanic #titanic wreck #shipwreck

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mapecl-stories · 7 months

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A Storm of Heroes: Battle for the North Sea

Skiper D. Schröder was a man who kept his composure even in the stormiest waters of life. As the head of the German Society for the Rescue of Shipwrecked Persons (DGzRS), he had encountered enough treacherous situations to understand that the North Sea was not merely a picturesque backdrop for idyllic coastal towns, but also a relentless and unforgiving force capable of sealing the fate of sailors in seconds.

On this fateful day, Skiper Schröder had once again assumed his duties, without realizing that he was about to face one of the most challenging trials of his life. The news of the collision between the two cargo ships, "Polesie" and "Verity," in the German Bight had reached him at the DGzRS control center, and his brow furrowed deeply as he learned the dramatic details.

Conditions out there were relentless: waves reaching up to three meters, poor visibility, and gale force six winds. Skiper Schröder knew that his crews were in a nightmare. However, he also understood that they were trained and motivated to confront any challenge. These men and women were risking their lives to save others, and that drive compelled them, even in the most adverse conditions.

"Conditions are challenging," Christian S., the DGzRS spokesperson, said as he coordinated the crews on the rescue ships. "The sea is as fierce as a beast today."

A young rescue swimmer, Max, spoke to Skiper Schröder over the radio. "Skiper, we have visual contact with a life raft. There are survivors on it, struggling through the waves."

Skiper responded, "Hold on, Max. We're almost there. You are our hope."

The search for the shipwrecked had begun, and Skiper Schröder could sense the tension in the air. Rescue ships and helicopters combed the sea, while the sonar plane searched for signs of the missing seafarers. The crews on the life-saving ships were in constant communication, coordinating their efforts and keeping hope alive.

"We must find these men, Skiper," Petra, an experienced sea rescuer, said with a trembling tone in her voice. "We cannot fail."

Skiper placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and calmly stated, "We will find them, Petra. Do not give up."

Meanwhile, divers prepared to explore the sunken ship "Verity" in the depth of 30 meters. The chance that the missing crew members were trapped inside the ship's hull existed, but the conditions were exceedingly challenging. The frigid water temperature turned the rescue operation into a race against time.

"Divers, you are our last hope," Skiper Schröder declared to the men as they prepared for their perilous mission. "Bring our seafarers back safely."

The sun had long set, and a relieved call came over the radio. "Skiper, we've found them! They are alive!"

Skiper Schröder could hear the joy in the diver's voice, and a smile spread across his face. "Well done, men. You are heroes."

Ultimately, the missing seafarers inside the sunken cargo ship "Verity" were also located and rescued. They had been trapped in a small airshaft, waiting for a miracle. Their survival appeared to defy all odds.

When they were finally saved, relief was evident in their eyes. One of them, an older seafarer named Karl, with tears in his eyes, said, "You've saved our lives; I'll never forget you."

The sunrise the next morning marked the end of this dramatic rescue mission. The DGzRS crews had triumphed over the merciless North Sea and the forces of nature. Skiper D. Schröder could take pride in his team and their dedication.

The tragic collision of the cargo ships had transformed into a story of heroes. The rescue teams had turned the impossible into reality, and the missing seafarers had been saved. This was a triumph of human will over the forces of nature, a tale of courage, determination, and teamwork that would be etched into the annals of the DGzRS. Skiper D. Schröder knew that they were ready to confront any new challenge that the unforgiving sea might throw their way.

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entishramblings · 5 months

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Fuck the Forbidden Pt. 2

[Boromir/F!MermaidReader]

PART 1 | PART 3 — coming soon

Fuck the Forbidden: FTF LINK MASTERLIST

A.N: my apologies for taking so much time to update: graduate school is a tornado, plus getting sick and the craziness of holidays season didn’t help. Anyways, thank you for your patience and your continuous support! I literally read all your comment in order to inspire me to write again!

Request: none

Pairing: Boromir X Fem!MermaidReader

Summary: The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the mermaids of middle earth is not canon. also I tried my best with arda water/river geography plz don’t come at me—it’s not one of my finer subjects :/

Word Count: 5.7k — listen, yes, I STILL have a problem

Warnings: depression, drowning, ptsd, alcoholism, angst, comfort, fluff, stalking (idk how to make that last one sound less creepy. you’re just gonna have to read it).

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The following day, (Y/N) waited in the depths of the Anduin River by the entrance of the Minas Tirith castle. Sure enough, the captain, decorated in silver, came out upon his steed. Though he did not have the cheer he normally held—despite his recent struggles—he seemed….different. (Y/N) had hoped that he didn't remember what he saw under the lake. Maybe he figured he was too drunk and his mind was playing tricks on him? Maybe he would forget it all together? However, that fearful look in his eyes when he glanced at the river told her otherwise. It appeared Faramir failed to convince his brother that the mer-folk were just a myth.

Boromir deviated from his routine as well. He did not go to the market for the breakfast that he seemed to love. No, no. Instead he went out towards the edge of the city–towards the docks. And (Y/N) went with him. He passed his horse off to another and walked upon the wood, passing ship and boat, until he came upon a small fishing vessel. (Y/N) swam around it and took to the surface upon its side, far enough to not be spotted, but close enough to see and hear.

“Iwar,” Boromir called out. “You there?”

“Oi!” the old man replied, emerging from the sails. “What can I do for yer?”

“You have a moment?”

“For ye? Of course I do, lad. What is this about?” Iwar stated, squinting in the sun.

Boromir huffed, and pulled something from his pocket. He lightly tossed it to the older fellow. “What do you make of this?”

Iwar frowned, holding the whale up before his face by the string Boromir had used to make it into a necklace. “Where’d ye get it?”

“In a pond. One that connects to the Anduin River.”

Iwar sent him a strange look. “Do ye know what this is made out of?”

Boromir shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s bone, Boromir,” he replied tentatively.

At this, the captain’s lips parted. “Bone?”

Iwar tossed the whale carving back to him. “Aye, couldn't tell ye what it came from. Whittled too much away for that. Ye said yer got it from a pond?”

He nodded, swallowing dryly.

“Could’ve washed up from the currents.” Iwar stated, nonchalantly, returning to the tasks of his sail. “Some trinket someone lost to the sea.”

Boromir dipped his head, his anxiety present as he fiddled with the whale.

Iwar glanced at him. “Something else, boy?”

Boromir inhaled slowly. “Iwar, do you–do you really believe those tales of the sea-folk?”

The old man sent a weary look at the captain as he tied off one of the ropes upon the fabric. “Aye. Saw one of em’ when I was just a lad. Nearly lost my life.”

Boromir focused his gaze upon Iwar. “I think–I think I saw one last night.”

At this, the older man froze. Slowly, he turned his full attention to the captain, dread slipping from his face.

Still, Boromir continued, trying to justify his sighting. ‘Though, I don't know. I was very drunk. Had a couple ales too many. My mind could’ve—”

“You were out on the sea last night?” Iwar interrupted, confused.

Boromir shook his head.

“The shore then? Never heard of em’ venturing so close.”

Boromir released a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, I was in the pond by the Minas Tirith castle.”

Iwar’s form stiffened as he walked toward the captain. He nodded at the bone carving in Boromir’s hand as he spoke in a tone that held so much anxiety that it radiated through the air around him. “The same pond where ye found that?”

“Yes.”

Iwar’s eyes widened wildly. “I’d tell ye what, lad. Ye have been marked by em.’ And that—” he dipped his head at the whale once more. “—I reckon that's human bone.”

Blood drained from Boromir’s face, replaced with sheer panic. His fingers clumsily grappled with the carving, uncertain of how to handle it. Reluctant to make direct contact, he hesitated before settling on gripping the string, allowing the whale to dangle. Disgust etched across his brow.

“I’d get out while ye can. Stay away from the sea waters, boy.” Iwar warned.

….

That night, Boromir didn't go to the pool of water by the white walls—nor the following night. He, quite frankly, didn't go near the water at all. He stayed far from the beaches and from the Anduin River. He took longer paths to where he needed to go in order to avoid such circumstances that put him near what Iwar had described to live in the sea.

And this—all this broke (Y/N)’s heart. It stirred up a tumult of emotions—sadness, anger, fear, and frustration. Therefore, on the third day, she sought solace in a secluded nook along the Bay of Belfas. Hoisting herself onto a warm rock, she sat, enveloped in her misery. Her once-vivid fantasies of the land-people and Boromir now dissolved into sorrow and regret. What lingered was the haunting image of Boromir's disdainful expression when Iwar speculated that her gift was crafted from human bone. Any mer-folk would be delighted to receive such a heartfelt gesture! But Boromir wasn't of the sea, now was he.

(Y/N) stayed upon the rock for hours, hoping the sun would soak up her melancholy mood. However, that is not what the golden beams absorbed. Her skin dried, her hair lightened and billowed freely, and the scales on her tail lacked the moisture they once held. It was at that moment discomfort struck. Excruciating, searing pain surged through her tail, a relentless agony that prompted a deep cry from her lips. Every nerve seemed to flare with an intense, burning sensation, rendering her nearly paralyzed by the sheer intensity of the pain. She couldn't move, only shake and claw at the rock she perched upon. It felt like hours as she laid there, praying to the gods to make it end. And when it did, she instinctively reached for her scales. However, to her surprise, her hand met no such thing; instead, flesh had replaced the once-familiar tail.

(Y/N) gasped.

Her father had said…

He had tested them all…

None had the gift….

He lied.

Emotions swirled around her naked form as she stared at the strange extension that replaced her glimmering scales—legs. Anger, irritation, sadness, regret, frustration, excitement all ran through her blood.

Slowly, she stood. As she took a wobbly step upon the rock, a loud, breathy giggle escaped her lips.

Was this a dream?

(Y/N) took another uncertain step, and another, and another—until she stumbled, her hand reaching out to break her fall. However, a splash came from that, for her palm struck where water had gathered in a dip upon the rock.

Immediately, she felt it.

Her skin tingled, then burned and stung, stretching and pulling in a painful dance. (Y/N) cried out as the pain intensified. With scales attempting to form on her dry legs, the tugging became excruciating once more—tears streamed from her eyes as she desperately scrambled towards the water.

Her form slipped and rolled, right off the rock and into the ocean.

Immediate relief enveloped her. Scales continued to knit together without a hint of pain. The water soothed her. It coated the soreness into nonexistence.

(Y/N) allowed her form to sink, adjusting.

There she floated, letting her body and mind adjust to what had just happened.

It was then when one of the turmoiling emotions overtook the rest of them. It coursed through her gills and surged through her veins.

How dare he…

With a decisive flick of her tail, she propelled herself toward her father's palace.

The anger granted her remarkable speed, causing other merfolk to whip their heads around in confusion as she barreled past them.

She swam directly to the grand chamber, where she anticipated her father perched upon his throne, and busted the door open with her tail.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” she screamed at him.

Heads turned instantly—her father’s, her sisters’, the guards’.

“HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME, FATHER. HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME I HAD THE GIFT?!”

Her father rose, signaling the guards to leave. They swam away quickly, avoiding the impending wrath of the sea's king and his children.

“You lied straight to my face,” (Y/N) stated.

“(Y/N), what are you talking about?” Anahita interjected, appalled by her sister’s tone.

Mareena added to her statement. “That is no way to speak to our father!”

(Y/N)'s tail flicked with irritation as she focused her gaze on the man before her. “I have the gift to walk among the land-folk.”

Una gasped. Seria’s mouth dropped open. Rana’s eyes widened. Nerida’s brows shot upwards.

Their father swam towards (Y/N). “You went to the land?!” he growled. “It is forbidden.”

“I DID NOT GO ONTO THE LAND!” She snapped back. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. “I was letting the sun warm me upon a rock when it happened—the tingling, the splitting, the pain.”

“You went to the surface—”

“How dare you not tell me, Father!”

“I DID NOT TELL YOU BECAUSE OF THIS!” He yelled. “Because I knew the minute you would figure it out, you would want to test out your new form. You would put us all in danger.”

“YOU HAVE PUT ME IN DANGER. YOU HAVE MASKED YOUR PROTECTION IN LIES THAT HAVE ONLY CAUSED ME PAIN. HOW DARE YOU!” (Y/N) retorted.

With that, (Y/N) swam away. She twisted through the reefs and the grass. She slipped through the schools of fish and their bubbles. She slithered through the rocks and caves. She did so until she was back in the Anduin River, where the lively markets and the hustle of people's households awaited. Breaking through the water's surface, she emerged with a cautious awareness, ensuring she remained unseen.

She swam along the edge until she came upon a line of clothing strung between two buildings. On it hung sheets as bright as a lemonpeel angelfish, a skirt holding the vibrance of an orange clownfish, a flowing wrap the hue of a blue tang fish, a pair of trousers the color of a brown leafy sea dragon, a top shaded like that of a pink fairy wrasse, and a flowing dress the cream color of a stingray’s belly.

(Y/N) looked at her surroundings.

The people were on the other side of the clothing line—all mucking about in the market. None even bothered to shed a glance behind the fabric. All were too busy going about their day.

Therefore, with little regard for the forbidden nature of her actions—because, really, fuck the forbidden—(Y/N) decided to defy the rules that had once controlled her life.

Originally, she hadn't intended to act in such defiance, but the anger coursing through her veins urged her forward into impulsive urges.

Hauling her form out of the water, (Y/N) manipulated the water clinging to her, using her fingers in twisting and rippling motions. She gathered the liquid into a cohesive ball and, with a flick of her wrist, sent the sphere dancing through the air before it plopped back into the river.

The tingling sensation began, followed by the excruciating pain, and soon enough, the transformation into legs commenced.

Anxiously, (Y/N) stood. Her shaky legs wobbled as she adjusted to their unfamiliar form. Her trembling fingers swiftly seized the cream colored dress—she didn't want to stand out, she needed to blend in—and she clumsily slipped it on. Her gaze then fixated on a brilliant blue wrap. The color resonated with the deep seas she hailed from, and she couldn't resist. The mermaid grasped the silk and yanked, winding it around her hair in a manner she had observed from land women when peeking from the river. Letting some of her locks cascade out of the twisted band, the blue fabric draped over her shoulders. She smiled.

Her hand instinctively rose to her neck, where her necklace adorned with shells, sea glass, and bones encircled her skin. A frown crossed her face. She couldn't part with it—this cherished gift from her since passed mother. Therefore, she let it remain, finding that it didn't look too out of place.

(Y/N) ventured into the market, nervously navigating the bustling city of Minas Tirith with her new, wobbly legs. The vibrant atmosphere teemed with life and excitement as diverse groups came together to weave the people into the human race. So many men, women, and children—all different sizes, all different shapes, all different skin tones—bustled through the streets.

Young children ran through the tents playing games and tricks on one another. Often enough, a woman was pursuing the chase while yelling for their halt of mischief. Men were not involved in this matter. Instead, they loudly called out the names of what they sold, along with prices, at the busy passerbyers in hopes of getting a customer. Never had (Y/N) seen something so brilliantly enthralling and engaging—not in her time under the sea with the mer-folk.

As she moved through the people, she discreetly snagged what she needed. A pair of sandals disappeared from a rack, and she swiftly turned away before anyone noticed. Vibrantly colored bracelets caught her eye at a vendor's stall, and she couldn't resist snagging a few. Additionally, she plucked food from bins and baskets. She didn't know what it was—but oh how delicious it tasted when it was not dunked in the salt of the sea.

Here, (Y/N) stayed, exploring the thrill of humanity and letting their culture enrapture her senses. So much so, that she failed to notice a soldier adorned in silver until she collided with his metal-plated chest.

Her form tumbled backwards, taking an extra moment to steady.

“Are you alright, miss?” a concerned voice inquired.

(Y/N) slowly raised her head to meet a familiar face: Faramir.

Unable to find her voice, she could only nod in reply. Shyness and anxiety filled her as she backed away from the unexpected encounter.

He acknowledged her reply with a dip of his own head before turning to another soldier a little ways away. He made way towards him and gently touched his arm. “Boromir, we should get going. Father is expecting us.”

(Y/N) went still. Her inquisitive gaze shifted towards him, and indeed, there stood Boromir. His dark, sandy hair brushed upon his forehead, tousled slightly from the refreshing breeze. Vibrant blue eyes held a sternness, concealing the sadness she knew resided in his heart. His pink lips pressed into a firm line, refraining from the warmth of a smile. Boromir was clad in the silver armor and the metal weapons that she had seen him in nearly every day. He looked fit for his position as captain, his authority nearly radiating from him. Now that she was upon the land, he seemed so much bigger—so much stronger. So much more important.

(Y/N)’s cheeks began to heat, prompting her to quickly ducked behind the fabric of a tent. After giving herself a moment, she peaked out.

Though she knew she shouldn't, she found herself following them. At a safe distance, she mimicked every turn, accentuated every step, and utilized every path they took. And when the Steward's sons crossed the threshold of Minas Tirith Castle, so did she.

Instantly, she was met with just as much business as the market. Servants flooded the halls, carrying trays of fruit and platters of meat. Maids held onto neatly folded laundry and finely pressed sheets. Guards bustled about, their steel clanking as they moved through the halls, to get to their next shift, meal, or rest.

(Y/N) was so overwhelmed that she failed to notice a group of soldiers rounding the corner. As they pushed past her, a heavy shoulder slammed into her, the edge of the metal plate catching her forehead. The impact sliced the skin open, causing her to tumble backward against the wall.

Surprising her, she felt a gentle hand upon her arm, holding her steady. A soft voice that she knew all too well, that spoke words all too similar to his brother’s, filled her ears. “Are you alright, miss?”

In a daze, (Y/N) looked up at the dark sandy hair, vibrant blue eyes, and perfect pink lips of Boromir. Too stunned to speak, she merely stared at him, every thought that had occupied her mind vanishing in the moment.

Boromir turned towards the group of soldiers who had caused the commotion and knocked her down. With a tone infused with authority and anger, he snapped at them, “Watch where you are going!”

They turned, initially confused and uncertain of Boromir's reprimand until they spotted the frightened and injured girl beside him.

“What kind of soldiers are you that you let your steel hit a woman!” Boromir added, his irritation even more obvious. “Keep better track of your things—and your forms!”

The soldiers nodded, though their indifference was evident, and they shuffled away without much concern.

Boromir turned back to (Y/N), repeating his prior question, his tone gentle once more. “I apologize for the actions of my men. I will reprimand them later, but right now you are more important, yes? Miss?”

She looked up at him, blinking. He didn’t recognize her, did he?

“You’re bleeding,” he stated softly, his finger pressed gently upon her forehead.

A quiet gasp of pain escaped (Y/N)’s lips and her expressions distorted slightly.

“My apologies. I did not mean to make your pain worse. May I take you to the infirmary? We can get that treated.”

Unsure what to say—and what an infirmary was—she nervously dipped her head.

“Alright,” he began. “Let’s get you moving.”

Gently, he helped her move away from the wall, one arm wrapped around her waist. However, with a couple steps, her vision swirled and she stumbled.

Boromir caught her quickly. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Just a step at a time.” His brows pulled together as he looked down at her. “Are you dizzy? Is the room spinning?”

“I—I,” she stuttered. “Y-yes, uh, sir.”

He released a heated breath from his nose, the anger at the men who had harmed her simmering within him. However, he pushed it away, ensuring his attention remained on her. "How about you sit back down? Lean against the wall to keep you upright, yes?"

(Y/N) nodded, allowing him to help lower her to the stone floor. As the coldness rushed through her bones and the stillness began to steady, she looked up at him. “T-thank you,” she whispered. “Uh, sir.”

The captain smiled softly. “You may call me Boromir.”

She nodded slightly.

Boromir looked up and stopped a passing servant. “Could you please fetch me a medical kit from the infirmary? Just basic supplies.”

The man nodded, accepting the order, and rushed off. Moments later, he returned with various materials in a small box.

Boromir expressed his gratitude as he opened the kit. Without hesitation, he took hold of a soft cloth and gently swiped it upwards, collecting the blood that was now trickling down (Y/N)’s forehead. He then pressed it against the cut that was bleeding rather heavily. "Hold this there," he commanded gently.

The woman reached up to follow his instructions, and Boromir proceeded to lay out an array of little bottles and scraps of cloth. "What is your name?" he inquired as he doused a cloth in the liquids of one of the containers.

Her eyes followed his motions nervously. “(Y/N),” she replied timidly.

The Captain smiled, attempting to provide some comfort. “Are you from around here, (Y/N)?”

She shook her head.

“No? What are you doing in these parts then?” He asked.

“I—I don’t know.”

Boromir frowned, looking up at her from the medical supplies. She appeared more disoriented than he had initially expected. Perhaps the blow to the head was more substantial than he had thought?

“You don’t know?” He questioned, no alarm in his tone. Meanwhile, he began threading a needle, preparing it for the task of stitching her forehead. “Have you come with anyone? A husband? A father?”

She frowned, a blush creeping into her face at the implications of his words. “N-no. Alone.”

Boromir pressed his lips together, a sudden loneliness hitting him—one that he knew all too well—as he placed the threaded needle upon a clean cloth.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

She shook her head.

“Hmm. Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can worry about that.”

Boromir took the cloth from her forehead, his hand brushing upon hers as he did so. He then began bringing a damp cloth towards her face.

Instantly, her eyes went wide and she ducked away from the material. “It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s just alcohol.” He replied, lowering the cloth.

“N-not water?” She whispered, almost fearful.

He shook his head. “Nay. Water would not clean it properly. This will prevent any infection, though I’m afraid it will sting a bit. Is that alright?”

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded.

Boromir pressed the cloth to the cut and, instantly, she hissed.

“I know, I am sorry,” he murmured.

Gently, he cleaned the wound, being careful to not make any sudden movements that may startle her. When he was certain it was clean, he moved to pick up the needle.

“I will have to stitch it back together so it heals properly.” He looked into her worried gaze and he instantly felt guilt tugging at his heart. It appeared she had never experienced such an injury, or perhaps she had but never received proper treatment for one.

Cautiously, he used his other hand to pick up her own. Her soft palms brushed upon his hardened calloused, gentleness upon her touch. Placing her hand upon his knee, he spoke softly, “If it hurts too much just squeeze really really hard, and I will pause, alright? It is important that you keep your head still, yes?”

She nodded, adjusting her grip upon his knee, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety in her eyes.

Slowly, Boromir began the delicate task of stitching her skin back together. Her grip tightened upon him, only slightly, as she adjusted to the strange sensation of tugging on her skin.

"You are doing beautifully, (Y/N). We are almost done. I promise," the Captain reassured her. As he finished the last stitch and skillfully moved the thread to knot itself, he breathed out, "There we go," placing the needle back upon the cloth. He smiled gently, a reassuring warmth in his eyes, as he carefully cleaned the area around the stitches. "All finished," Boromir stated before leaning back, (Y/N)’s hand slipping from his knee.

“It will be sore for a bit,” he said. “But it should heal in a week. The stitching will fall out on its own, so if it starts to come out, do not worry. Though, I would advise you not to get it wet.”

At that last sentence, (Y/N) smiled softly. She wasn’t planning on getting wet—not anytime soon.

“Can you stand? Has the dizziness subsided?”

The woman nodded and slowly rose to her feet, taking Boromir’s hand when he offered it.

“Let’s find you a place to rest while you heal. And I would like to apologize for my soldiers’ actions once more. You are welcome to stay in Minas Tirith as long as you would like. I will make sure you get everything you need.”

(Y/N) looked up at his kind expression and spoke with that same nervous hesitancy. “Thank you.…Boromir.”

The captain guided her through the castle, arriving at a room. He opened the door and gestured inside with a soft smile. "It is yours to stay in. I will ensure the maids are alerted to provide you with adequate care. If you need anything else, my chambers are just down the hallway to the right, the second door."

She nodded in reply.

He bowed his head. “I will leave you then, miss.”

With that, he was gone.

(Y/N) moved to the center of the room and slowly spun around taking it all in. It was massive and airy. The windows were wind open, the sea breeze rushing in and caring hints of the city. The white curtains blew with that gentle wind, dancing in its whispers. The walls of the chamber were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting only what she could assume to be the legendary tales of the city. They were woven with beautiful silver and turquoise thread, catching the light so delicately. A bed sat in the middle of the room, soft white blankets and comforters piled on it. (Y/N) walked towards it and gently sat upon the fabric. It was….strange. Very different from the large shells she was used to curling up in.

Feeling a sudden tiredness take over her form, she laid down with ease. Resting her head upon the pillow, she allowed sleep to consume her.

…….

When she finally woke, the sun had set, and the stars took their place among the blanket of the sky. Cautiously, she pulled her legs from the cage of blankets and let them dangle off the side of the bed. They looked so….strange upon her form. She was used to her glimmering tail that collected light to share among the waters. Not—not this. She lowered her feet upon the stone floor, almost startled by the coldness that greeted them.

Hunger settled into her stomach as she moved towards the door. However, she found herself at a loss, unsure where to find a meal at this time. The markets were long since closed and she knew not where the kitchen in the Minas Tirith castle was. Of course, she could wander down to the tavern that Boromir frequented regularly—she knew the way well enough, but she didn't have any means to pay.

(Y/N) shifted on her feet. Boromir did say she could come to him if she needed anything….

Almost as if it were an excuse to see him again, she slipped through the door and began following his directions to his chambers. With every step, her heart pounded harder. She would get to see him again—and it wouldn't be through layers of water.

Upon arrival, the door stood ajar, allowing a whisper of cold air to drift from his open windows. Cautiously, she peered into the room. It was shrouded in darkness, with only the soft glow of the moon reflecting upon the vast room—oh, and what a beautiful room it was. The room eluded a captivating chaos, in the most exciting way. Tablets and shelves were filled with various items—maps, books, stones, germs, inventions, and trinkets. The room held a multitude of objects, each beckoning to be looked at, studied, and pondered—igniting a sense of wonder and an urge to guess the intention. Oh, it was a captivating sight.

“Boromir?” she called out.

Silence.

Slowly, (Y/N) stepped in. She let her feet carry her throughout the room, her hand brushing upon every object that her eyes could consume. She picked things up, examined them, then put them down for another. She did so continuously, urgently, the thirst for knowledge of the humans’ customs eager in her blood. She did so, until she came across something familiar—something she was surprised to see.

(Y/N) picked up the bone carved whale from the shelf that it rested on.

He had kept it.

A little grin formed on her face, for after his conversation with Iwar she didn’t think he would.

“Does that one interest you?” A soft tone asked.

(Y/N) jumped, startled.

Boromir chuckled lightly, stepping into the room. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

She glanced down at the whale carving before looking back to him.

“I am not quite sure how that one came into my possession,” he continued as he moved to stand beside her.

She frowned, looking up. Her eyes were now direct at him, focused and stern—for the first time since he had met her. He would be lying if he said it didn't startle him a bit.

“You don't remember?” she asked, her tone strong.

“Well, no it’s not that. Of course, I remember how I got it. It just was a bit peculiar.”

(Y/N) tilted her head, not understanding.

Boromir sighed, his tone was distant as he spoke, his blue gaze not wavering from her curious eyes that suddenly seemed so bold. “A friend of mine says it's a dark omen, ment to mark me for death.” His vision trailed across her face. “He says it is made of the bone of my fallen brothers, urging me to follow them to their deaths.”

“Do you believe that?”

He blinked, his gaze lingering upon the whale. “I do not know what to believe.” Boromir looked at her expression. “What are your thoughts on such a statement?”

(Y/N) shrugged, placing the whale in its spot upon the shelf. “I believe people don’t understand other cultures and customs. I believe they make their own assumptions out of ignorance and fear.”

The captain raised a brow at her intelligence. “You are feeling better then?”

“Hmm?” (Y/N) hummed in question as she moved to another object.

“Well, that is the most I have heard you speak since I met you. You are wiser than you appear to be.”

She only shrugged in response, picking up a telescope and looking through its glass—by the wrong end.

“Though,” Boromir continued in a teasing manner as he plucked the object from her grasp, turned it the correct way, and placed it back in her palms. “That wisdom seems not to extend to everything.”

She frowned, looking through the glass once before placing it down. She then went for a music box, her confused expression deepening. “We do not have all these….these things where I am from.”

Boromir reached across her and twisted the little lever, releasing the gentle music from its hold. “And where is that, may I ask?”

At the twinkling sound, her smile, born of pure delight, extended from her expression. Her response to his question, however, was only that of a simple word, “Far.”

The captain raised a brow. “How far?”

(Y/N) shot him a strange look, placing the music box down and picking up a crystal sphere instead. “You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He grinned playfully. “You do not seem to give many answers, Miss (Y/N).”

She glared at him.

With that playful smile, he spoke again. “Would it help if you got to ask a question?”

(Y/N)‘s eyes crinkled with thought as she placed the object down and turned towards him. She saw how his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, how the circles under his eyes appeared so dark, how his expression was so hollow. Softly, she spoke again. “Why are you so sad, Boromir?”

Taken aback by this, his lips parted. “I—I do not know what you mean.”

She took a step closer to him, a step that nearly eliminated the space between them, and her piercing gaze burned up at him for the truth.

Hesitantly, he whispered that truth, as if she compelled it right out of him. “I—I recently was in a shipwreck. I thought, well, I thought I was dead—left for the watery graves below.” He paused, just for a moment. “But yet I am here and I do not know why. And, I am beginning to question things that I know, well, thought I knew, for the world appears different now.”

Silence.

Boromir's soft voice then picked up again, his breath warm upon the woman’s face. “Why are you so sad, (Y/N)?”

At this, her shy nature returned. (Y/N) turned her head away, not wanting to look at the source of her sadness.

Gently, Boromir tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You implored me to tell you such a truth,” he whispered. “May I not ask the same of you?”

(Y/N)’s tone was soft. “My truth is complicated.”

“Are not all truths complicated?” he responded.

With that, she withdrew from his grasp—a hold she desperately craved—and created enough distance between them, leaving him to wonder if such closeness had occurred at all.

A loud grumble then echoed through the dark room—splitting the darkness with something else, something much for lighthearted.

“When have you last eaten?” Boromir asked.

Her brows pulled together as she looked at her stomach.

He chuckled, offering her his hand. “Come. Let’s get you some food. I can take you to my favorite place.”

“But I—I have no coin,” she whispered shyly.

“You are a guest of Gondor, Gondor will see you fed.”

(Y/N) smiled, that innocent gaze returning. She hesitantly took his hand and he led her through the castle and towards the tavern.

The two arrived at the tavern rather quickly. Urine, stale ale, and sweat flooded (Y/N)’s nostrils—familiar aromas reminiscent of her vigilant watch over Boromir along the Anduin River. The lively atmosphere enveloped the pair. In the corner, a bard sang to the patrons, his melodic voice resonating throughout, enticing some to join in. Drunk men, tapping their feet along to the beat of the tune, howled in laughter and glee as they clinked their ales together and shoveled food into their mouths. Requests for additional drinks prompted maidens, adorned in long skirts and aprons, to gracefully deliver brimming glasses, the foaming liquid sloshing about.

(Y/N) smiled, taking in the environment.

Boromir cast a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “It’s just a tavern.”

She turned to him, her grin unwavering. “We don’t have taverns where I am from.”

He raised a brow. “And where is that? You never said.”

She shrugged. “Far.”

(Y/N) moved deeper into the tavern, with Boromir following suit. He motioned towards an available table, and they both took a seat. Before long, a serving maiden approached. Boromir signaled for two meals and two ales, and they promptly arrived.

The woman wasted no time and eagerly indulged in her food, swiftly emptying the plate.

Boromir tried to suppress a smile as he saw this, for he was glad she was getting proper nutrition after her likely long and hard journey. He, of course, wished to know more of her origins; though, he could see she wasn't quite ready to discuss such things. Instead, he opted to answer any and all questions she had which began with her curious tone.

“Boromir, would you be willing to tell me of your city? How you live in these parts? I wish to know.”

His soft gaze made contact with hers and he nodded, chewing his food and swallowing before he spoke. “What would you wish to know?”

“Everything—its structures, its people, its culture, its history.”

Therefore, Boromir spoke of such things. He described the White City's towering architecture, the valor of its people, and the complexities of the various beliefs held. He relayed its history and tales, showcasing the values of the Gondorian people.

His narratives ignited a spark in her eyes, drew laughter from her lips, and filled her heart with joy.

Fuck the forbidden indeed.

As the hours stretched on, Boromir’s friends joined them. (Y/N) could see the gleam in their eyes and catch the less-than-subtle teasing tones as they whispered about Boromir bringing a lady to their tavern. Faramir, arriving shortly after, seemed prepared for a night of dealing with his drunken brother, only to find himself pleasantly surprised by his brother's apparent sobriety and the joy the unknown woman seemed to bring to his melancholy soul.

Yet, amid the cheerful atmosphere, a pair of shifting gray eyes belonging to an old man that (Y/N) recognized as Iwar, kept her uneasy heart alert.

…..

Everything Tag: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @desert-fern @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @sotwk @sirenofavalon @hobbitsesoftheshire @asianbutnotjapanese @mgchaser @heavenshumour @heavenshumour @clairealeehelsing @starenemy @ceruleanrainblues @casuallyeating-blog @cheari @aheadfullofsteverogers @imthebadguyyy @beehivehappy @queenmariex @newjsns01

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Boromir Tag: @scyllas-revenge @lord-westley @callistobalisto

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#vayawrites #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #boromir #boromir x reader #Boromir/reader #boromir fic #boromir fanfic #boromir fanfiction #boromir x you #boromir/you #boromir one shot #boromir oneshot

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

Note

Hob, a young and impressionable merman, has fallen in love with Eleanor, a human he glimpsed on the shore. He is determined to be together so he goes to visit the sea witch, dream, to make a deal to turn him human.

Dream is huge and as beautiful and terrifying as hob has always heard, with unsettling black tentacles that curl over hob’s arms and waist when hob enters his cave.

Dream listens to his plea with a smirk and offers a deal.

He will give hob three days on shore to make Eleanor fall in love with him and seal it with a kiss.

If he fails, he’ll return to the sea and he will belong to Dream forever.

Hob is sure he won’t fail and signs the deal eagerly.

Of course hob doesn’t know that Dream fell in love/lust at first sight and isn’t about to let hob end up with some human. He has no intention of playing fair and every intention of winning this bet and claiming hob as his own. He just can’t wait to see hob swollen with a clutch of their children. And with Dream’s powers hob can be immortal too and visit the surface whenever he pleases—so long as he doesn’t fall for any more humans. Dream is going to be the ocean’s most jealous and possessive mate. Hob has no idea what’s about to hit him.

Uh oh, sounds like Hob is in deep trouble...

Hob goes ashore, and starts to look for his beloved Eleanor... but he simply can't find her! No matter how he searches from village to village, its as though she never existed. Hob doesn't even sleep as he makes his search - how can he win her love if he can't find her?! But it's no good.

(He doesn't know it, but Dream lured Eleanor to the sea and made sure that she wouldn't return to shore alive. He couldn't risk Hob being able to woo her.)

And so Hob sadly returns to the ocean, only to get swept into a current and delivered right to Dream’s lair. And Dream is so sympathetic! Humans are so fickle, he says. Hob is better off without that girl. If he's good, Dream will let him walk on the land whenever he pleases, and he can learn about all the human things that make him curious. This seems to make Hob happy, as he begins to hope that Dream will at least be kind to him.

And he is kind! He gives Hob gold and pearls and trinkets from shipwrecks. The finest food to be found in the sea is served to Dream’s mate. And Dream insists on serving Hob’s pleasure too. He soothes Hob’s broken heart by touching him, encouraging his genitals to emerge, fucking him with slippery tentacles... Hob has no idea that he's being bred, but that's besides the point. By the time his belly swells it'll be too late, and Dream knows that Hob will carry their spawn so well! Dream will hold him in a tight embrace of tentacles, keeping him safe and snug when the cold currents come, and Hob will be happy. It may take a hundred years or more, but some day Dream’s mate will realise that he's a very lucky creature indeed.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw dubcon #cw manipulation #cw monsterfucking #cw tentacles #cw mpreg

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ikolaiigh · 9 months

Text

Poor Unfortunate Souls

𝑻𝑾/𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺..Prince!Chuuya, The little mermaid AU, drowning, thunderstorms, injuries, romantic tension, strangers to lovers, Mermaid!Reader, Fantasy Violence, Pet names, both Chuuya and reader are disgustingly in love,Reader and chuuya are down bad for each other, Love at First Sight, Idiots in Love, Reader is called 'Princess' and later on 'Queen', Weddings, Songfic.

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: Prince!Chuuya Nakahara x Mermaid!Reader

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: The ocean was wide, yet everything was very much the same for you, that is until you save a human prince from a shipwreck. Despite only having met once for a short period, the two Royals become infatuated with each other, The human wanting to know who saved them and you resolve to do whatever it takes to become part of his world.

𝘈/𝘕: here we are yet again! I never expected the support that received from the last one so thank you! I appreciate it sm <33 I had some difficulty in starting this chapter but I finished it off! Btw Yosano's dialog was based on the song "She's in Love" from the Broadway version! Yet again I thank @yuugen-benni for helping me out, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ♡

-For "Poor Unfortunate Souls" Listen to Jonas's brother's version or annapantsu! Since it fits better with the ambiance and everything, the fanart is by nixnyr.

Under The Sea - Poor Unfortunate Souls - Next..

"𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞." -𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧

Watching through the eyes of the merman's, a man concealed in the shadows of a dimly lit cave couldn't contain his malevolent delight. His sinister chuckle reverberated through the cavern as he reveled in his fortunate discovery.

"Well, well, well... Isn't this just too easy?" he mused, a twisted grin spreading across his face. His eyes narrowed with a wicked glint as he observed the trembling merfolk, their shrimp-like forms quivering in fear before him.

"But it's not just any love, is it?" he continued, his voice dripping with malicious amusement. "No, no, no. This young mermaid has fallen for a human—a prince, to be precise. Oh, how adorably naive!"

As his purple eyes gleamed with malevolence, the man reveled in the thought of the chaos he could sow. His dark intentions fueled his sadistic pleasure."I can already picture it," he mused, his smirk growing more pronounced. "The king, oh, he will be furious when he discovers his precious daughter is smitten with a mere human. The scandal, the outrage—it will be exquisite."

His attention then shifted, considering a more nefarious plan. "The king's daughter would make the perfect addition to my flourishing garden," he whispered, casting a sinister gaze upon the cursed merfolk at the entrance of the cave.

In the depths of his depravity, he relished the thought of ensnaring the young princess, both to taunt her father and to satisfy his twisted desires. The man's demeanor exuded a chilling mix of cruelty and madness, promising nothing but darkness and despair for those caught in his snare.

Days after your encounter with the prince, you found yourself lying on your bed, a blissful smile gracing your face. Thoughts of the prince consumed your mind—, His beautiful smile, the way he held your hand, the twinkle of his mismatched eyes in the sunlight, and the way his laughter filled you with butterflies—it was all you could think about. Lost in your thoughts, you were pulled back to reality when your sister, Yosano, called for you.

"[Name]! Come out, you've been there all morning," Yosano called out impatiently, assuming you had once again snuck away.

Emerging from behind the curtain, you swam out with a contented smile still playing on your lips. Ignoring Yosano's shocked expression, you swam past her and settled next to Ranpo, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as you gently smoothed your hair, still humming a sweet tune.

Higuchi and Ranpo exchanged glances, then turned to Yosano, silently seeking an explanation. Taken aback, she replied to their unspoken question, her astonishment mirroring theirs. Once again, their eyes shifted to you, observing your actions as you fixed your hair, plucked a flower from a coral, and inhaled its fragrance. You playfully toyed with its petals while swimming away from the mirror, making you accidentally bump into your father.

"Morning, Dad," you greeted him cheerfully, placing the flower in his hair. With a final smile, you left the room, your lovesick aura still intact as you resumed humming.

"Oh, she's got it bad," Ranpo grimaced, watching you disappear from the room, aware of the reason behind your lovesickness.

"What? What's going on?" Fukuzawa asked, his gaze shifting from his son to the space where you had departed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Higuchi smiled, her eyes following your path. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy, she couldn't help but wish it were her instead.

"I must say! The girl is swimming in circles, chasing around her tail! [Name] is clearly in love!" Yosano chimed in, smirking as she adjusted the butterfly pin on her head. She wondered who had captured your heart.

"[Name]? In love?" Fukuzawa's disbelief was evident. Out of all his children, you seemed the least likely to fall for someone else. He removed the flower from his hair, smiling softly.

You swam gracefully through the crystal-clear waters, the shimmering sunlight dancing on your fins as you ventured deeper. Sigma followed close behind, his fins twitching. Finding a comfortable rock near a vibrant coral reef adorned with a myriad of blooming flowers, you settled yourself down. Gently, you plucked a delicate blossom, savoring the soft caress of its petals against your fingertips, your infectious grin never wavered, displaying your joy.

Sigma swam back and forth beside you, his fins twitching with anxiety. His voice carried a hint of concern as he spoke, "Okay, so far, I don't think the King knows."

"But keeping something like this a secret won't be easy for long," Sigma remarked, spitting out a stray petal that had found its way into his mouth. He shot you an annoyed glare, clearly displeased.Meanwhile, you propped yourself up on your elbows, enjoying the view above Sigma. You playfully tucked a pink flower behind your ear, and your smile remained unwavering.

"He loves me," you whispered, gently caressing the petals of the flower in your hand. You plucked another petal, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Hmm, he loves me not," you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. Annoyance tinged your tail's movements, but as you picked the last petal, realization washed over you.

"He loves me!" you giggled, cradling the petal against your chest. Kicking your tail playfully, you turned over, lying on your back with an ear-to-ear grin. "I knew it!"

"[Name], stop talking crazy!" Sigma lectured, swimming towards your side, concern etched on his face as he rested his hands on his waist.

"I gotta see him again, Tonight! Dazai knows where he lives." You got up and started to swim away but Sigma grabbed your tail fin.

"Princess, please!" Sigma pleaded, swimming along with you, attempting to stop your impulsive rambling. "Will you get your head out of the clouds and back in the water where it belongs?"

"I'll swim up to his castle, and then Atsushi will splash around to get his attention, then we'll go-" you excitedly continued, completely ignoring Sigma's advice

"Down here is your home!" Sigma groaned in frustration, positioning himself in front of you, determined to bring you back to reality.

"[Name], listen to me, The human world, it's a mess, life under the seaIs better than anything they got up there," Sigma implored, a reassuring smile on his face as he gently guided you to sit back down on the enchanting reef. As you settled comfortably on the rock, he positioned himself in front of you, making sure to maintain eye contact, his concern mixed with genuine affection.

"The seaweed is always greener, in somebody else's lake," Sigma sang, his voice resonating through the underwater depths. As he looked around, he noticed that your attention wasn't focused on him, determined to captivate you, he gracefully swam towards you, his movements fluid and mesmerizing. With gentle precision, his fingers delicately caught your chin, directing your gaze toward him.

"You dream about going up there, but that is a big mistake," Sigma said, his expression filled with concern. Yet, in response to his seriousness, you couldn't help but smirk ever so slightly, intrigued by his words.

"Just look at the world around you, right here on the ocean floor," Sigma encouraged, his voice filled with conviction. In a graceful motion, he took hold of your hand, twirling you in a joyous dance beneath the waves.

"Such wonderful things surround you. What more is you lookin' for?" Sigma sang, his eyes fixed on you, his voice brimming with joy. At that moment, as if responding to the magic of the ocean, a couple of fish appeared, swirling gracefully around the two of you. Their vibrant colors and playful antics brought joy to your heart, and you couldn't help but giggle as one of the fish playfully planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"Under the sea, under the sea," Sigma exclaimed as he deftly gathered his two-toned hair and expertly tied it into a neat bun. With his preparations complete, he began gracefully swimming around you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Darling, it's better, down where it's wetter. Take it from me," Sigma sang, his grin widening as he took your hand and guided you towards his magnificent casino. As you swam together, the vibrant corals painted a mesmerizing tapestry around you, captivating your senses. But it was the sight of the grand casino logo that truly caught your attention.

"Up on the shore, they work all day, Out in the sun they slave away," Sigma dramatized, playfully draping an arm across his face. You couldn't help but chuckle, appreciating his theatrical flair. Sigma glanced back at you, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

"While we devotin', Full time to floatin' Under the sea," Sigma sang, his voice filled with joyous melodies. Together, you ventured inside the casino, mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colors that adorned the interior. Merfolk patrons, immersed in the thrill of games, lined the area, while a lively band played on the stage. Sigma swam towards the stage, where a spirited ginger merman skillfully played the drums—Tachihara.

"Down here all the fish is happy, As off through the waves they roll," Sigma sang in harmony with Tachihara's rhythmic beats. As you watched their performance, captivated by the infectious energy, you noticed a playful dolphin gracefully swimming in elegant circles around the perimeter of the casino.

"The fish on the land ain't happy, They sad 'cause they in their bowl," Sigma mused with a hint of mock sympathy, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Tachihara's grin widened, the camaraderie between them evident as they continued to sing and play.

"But fish in the bowl is lucky, They in for a worser fate," Sigma sang, his voice carrying a touch of irony. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he swam towards you, gently guiding you to a chair before darting back to the stage. As you settled into your seat, your gaze wandered around the casino, and a smirk tugged at your lips when you noticed a merman losing a bet, his crestfallen expression momentarily amusing you.

"One day when the boss get hungry, Guess who's gon' be on the plate?" Tachihara and Sigma sang in perfect harmony, their voices blending seamlessly. The infectious rhythm and energy of the song ignited a wave of excitement, causing the merfolk in the vicinity to join in, swaying and dancing to the beat.

"Oh, no, under the sea, under the sea," Sigma continued, his grin playful and contagious as he swam in playful circles around Tachihara. Their synchronized movements and lively energy filled the space, causing their fins to twitch with joy.

"Nobody beat us, Fry us and eat us,In fricassee," Sigma declared, his words filled with confidence. As you reveled in the enchanting atmosphere, your attention turned to a cluster of colorful flowers nearby. Tenderly, you reached out to caress one of them, only to discover that it was not a mere bloom but a delightful seahorse. Surprise flashed across your face, and at that moment, more seahorses emerged, swimming in playful circles around you, eliciting joyous giggles from your lips.

"We're what the land folks love to cook, But under the sea, we're off the hook," Sigma sang with infectious enthusiasm, his voice brimming with energy as he danced to the lively beat. However, his joy was momentarily interrupted when his tail became entangled in a net. He shot a disgusted glance at it before skillfully freeing himself and casting the net aside.

"Here, we've got no troubles, life is just bubbles, under the sea," Sigma sang with a radiant smile, his voice resonating with pure joy. The infectious energy of the music drew more merfolk and fish to the stage, creating a vibrant gathering of singing and dancing. Sigma gracefully swam back to the stage, joining the spirited performance with his mesmerizing presence.

"Since life is so sweet here, we've got the beat here, naturally," Sigma continued to sing, his voice infused with a sense of bliss. As you watched him dance to the rhythm, a gentle smile tugged at your lips, realizing that you had never seen him so genuinely carefree and immersed in the moment.

"Even the sturgeon and the ray, they feel the urge and join the play," Sigma sang, his eyes scanning the crowd as he noticed that the majority of merfolk had succumbed to the infectious rhythm, surrendering themselves to the pure delight of the music. Among them, you recognized Tecchou and Teruko, skillfully playing their respective instruments—a flute and a harp. Their melodies blended seamlessly with Sigma's voice, creating a magical harmony that resonated throughout the Casino's haven.

"We've got the spirit, you've got to hear it," Sigma exclaimed with boundless energy, his body still moving in sync with the lively rhythm. Atsushi unexpectedly emerged from the crowd, a smile illuminating his face as he gracefully weaved through the singing fish. Suddenly, his gaze locked onto you, and a mischievous glimmer sparked in his eyes as he quickened his pace. Skillfully navigating through the sea of merfolk, he attempted to maintain a semblance of discretion.

However, his attempts to be inconspicuous were short-lived, as a playful string unexpectedly snared him, entangling him in a dance with the fish who had captured him. Atsushi squirmed and wriggled, determined to break free from their impromptu hold. With a burst of agility, he skillfully maneuvered himself out of the rope's clutches, a triumphant grin on his face. With a whisper that only you could hear, he beckoned you to follow him, and you both silently slipped away, leaving Sigma unaware of your departure.

"Under the sea," Sigma began singing once more, turning around to search for you, only to find that you were no longer by his side. A sigh escaped his lips, a hint of disappointment mingled with his annoyance.

"Somebody's got to nail her tail to the ground," Sigma grumbled, a touch of annoyance coloring his voice. Determined to ensure the satisfaction of his customers, he left the stage behind, venturing into the casino to offer his assistance. However, before he could attend to any concerns, a small seahorse swiftly swam toward him.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!" A tiny seahorse called out, urgently seeking Sigma's attention. Startled, Sigma turned his focus to the seahorse, concern etching his features.

"Whoa, hey, what's the matter?" Sigma inquired, his voice filled with genuine worry, while the seahorse took a moment to catch its breath after its swift swim.

"I've been searching high and low for you. I bear an urgent message from the king. He insists on seeing you immediately! It's regarding [Name]," the seahorse relayed, its words laced with a sense of urgency. Without wasting another moment, the seahorse swiftly darted away, leaving Sigma to grapple with a growing sense of apprehension.

"He knows," Sigma muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, a gasp escaping his lips. Panic washed over him, evident in his wide eyes and the furrowed lines on his forehead.

"Hey, let's see now. Oh, who could the lucky mermaid or merman be?" Fukuzawa's infectious laughter filled the air as he playfully twirled a vibrant flower in his hands. With a composed demeanor, he straightened himself upon noticing Sigma's arrival at the doorway.

"Come in, Sigma," Fukuzawa beckoned, his smile ever-present. The merman took a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing thoughts, before stepping forward to stand before the regal throne.

"I mustn't overreact. I must remain calm," Sigma whispered to himself, trying to find solace in his own words. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady his trembling fins, and responded to Fukuzawa in a voice that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"Yes?" Sigma's voice wavered, the sound escaping in a squeaky tone that revealed his unease. His face flushed, caught between anxiety and embarrassment, as he addressed the regal presence before him. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Sigma, I'm concerned about [Name]," Fukuzawa voiced his worries, unaware of the hidden turmoil within Sigma. "She's been daydreaming, humming to herself... Surely you've noticed, hmm?"

"Oh, well, I—" Sigma began, his words faltering and his fins trembling involuntarily. He strained to maintain his posture and replied with a shaky voice, trying to regain control.

"Sigma," Fukuzawa's voice called him back to attention, his gaze now fixed on the uneasy merman.

"Your Highness?" Sigma replied, his voice barely above a whisper, betraying his turmoil.

"I know you've been keeping something from me," Fukuzawa stated, motioning for Sigma to come closer. Nervously, Sigma ascended the steps and positioned himself in front of the majestic throne.

"Keeping something?" Sigma mumbled, a forced, nervous grin plastered across his face as he willed his trembling tail to still. The strain of his anxiety threatened to consume him, like an impending tidal wave crashing against his resolve.

"About [Name]?" Fukuzawa pressed his smile both knowing and playful. His trident pointed toward Sigma in a teasing manner.

"[Name?]" Sigma uttered hesitantly, his anxiety mounting. He maintained the façade of a smile, but his insides churned with apprehension.

"In love?" Fukuzawa pressed, his smile both knowing and playful. His trident pointed toward Sigma in a teasing manner.

"I... I tried to stop her, sir!" Sigma blurted out, his words tumbling forth in a rush of nerves. He desperately clung to the armrest of the throne, seeking support amid the mounting pressure. "She wouldn't listen! I told her to stay away from humans! They are bad! They are trouble! They—"

"Humans?" Fukuzawa interjected, his voice filled with an unexpected intensity. Rising from his throne, he glared at Sigma, a mix of anger and concern surfacing in his features. "What about humans?"

"Humans?" Sigma chuckled nervously, his words faltering as he instinctively began to retreat, his voice laced with a nervous ramble. "Who said anything about humans?"

And in that instant, Sigma realized he had made a grave mistake—one that would have extreme consequences.

"Can't you just tell me, Atsushi...?" you asked softly, a slight frown creasing your forehead. Curiosity piqued within you, longing to discover what awaited inside the grotto.

"It's a surprise!" Atsushi beamed, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he looked at you. Leading the way, he guided you to the entrance of the grotto, anticipation building with each step.

"Well, now close your eyes!" Atsushi declared, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. With a resigned sigh, you complied, though an urge to peek tempted you. Atsushi, sensing your intent, quickly covered your eyes with his hand, ensuring the surprise remained intact. Together, you ventured further into the cave, the sound of the rock sliding back into place echoing faintly behind you, signaling your arrival at the designated spot.

"Okay, open them!" Atsushi exclaimed, standing before you. Eagerly complying, you slowly unveiled your eyes, and as the delicate beam of light from above illuminated the cave, your eyes widened with surprise. There, right in front of you, was the statue of Chuuya—the very statue salvaged from the wreckage of the ship that fateful night. Nearly true to size, it captured Chuuya's essence, portraying him as the embodiment of determination and heroism, though his signature smile was absent.

"Atsushi, you're the best!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your joy. A bright smile adorned your face as you enveloped your friend in a heartfelt hug, grateful for the gesture.Drawing closer to the statue, you reached out, your hand gently cupping Chuuya's concrete cheek, feeling the coolness of the material beneath your touch. Though his pose may have been exaggerated and his hair fixed somewhat uncomfortably, there was an undeniable beauty in the way the statue portrayed Chuuya.

"Why, Chuuya, run away with you?" you giggled playfully, your voice echoing through the cavern. You leaned your head on the statue's shoulder, a gesture filled with whimsy. "Oh, this is all so, so sudden,"

"Don't you think you're getting a bit...you know...worked up?" Atsushi interjected, his face contorting into a slight grimace. He observed you closely, concern etched across his features until he sensed a presence looming behind him.

"Can you blame me? He is perfect," you replied dreamily, completely absorbed in admiring the statue of Chuuya. Caught up in the moment, you twirled around with laughter, momentarily forgetting your surroundings. But as your gaze shifted, a sudden change in your expression signaled a shift in the atmosphere. Your laughter faded as you locked eyes with your father, standing sternly in the shadows, a disapproving glare fixed upon you. Atsushi instinctively swam to your side, sensing the tension in the air. Meanwhile, Sigma lingered behind your father, unable to face you.

"Father?" you called out, your voice laced with a mixture of shock and fear, as the weight of his disapproving presence settled upon you.

"I consider myself to be a reasonable king," Fukuzawa spoke in a low, chilling tone that sent shivers down your spine. Instinctively, you unconsciously swam back a bit, a reflexive response to the intensity in his voice. "I set certain rules, and I expect those rules to be obeyed."

"But—" you pleaded, desperation seeping into your voice, only to be swiftly silenced.

"Is it true you rescued a Prince from drowning? A human Prince!" Fukuzawa's voice dripped with fury as he swam towards you, his anger palpable."Dad, I had to—" you exclaimed, attempting to reason with him, but your father's icy glare silenced you.

"Contact between two species is strictly forbidden! You know that! Everyone knows that!" Fukuzawa's tone turned cold, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you.

"He would have died!" you chided incredulously, your voice filled with disbelief. The shock settled in, realizing that your own father, the protector of all merfolk, expected you to let someone die in such a cruel manner.

"One less human to worry about!" Fukuzawa spat, his words seething with anger as he glared at you.

"I'm sorry that I don't want to be a murderer like you," you sneered, your voice laden with anger and contempt. Atsushi and Sigma looked on in shock as the words escaped your lips, taken aback by the sudden shift in your demeanor. Defiantly, you approached your father, unflinchingly meeting his fury with a cold glare of your own as you continued, "Do you think I don't know about all the atrocities your guards were sent to commit? You try to protect me and hide your past, but you keep making the same mistakes."

"And besides, you don't even know him!" you yelled, your anger seething. Huffs of frustration punctuated your words as you maintained a fierce gaze, refusing to back down. Atsushi and Sigma stood in stunned silence, their eyes widening in disbelief as you unleashed your pent-up frustration.

"Know him?! All humans are equal! They are born to destroy! They're incapable of any feeling!" Fukuzawa's voice thundered with anger, his glare intense as he shouted. The force of his words reverberated through the chamber, a display of his growing fury.

"Father, I love him!" you yelled back, your anger matching his intensity as you locked eyes with him. But as the words left your lips, a shockwave of realization rippled through you, the weight of your admission hitting you with full force.

"Have you lost your mind?! He's a human! You're a mermaid!" Fukuzawa's disbelief resonated in his voice, his gaze fixed upon you, searching for any sign of reason.

"Guess what? I don't care," you stated firmly, your anger burning bright as you held your head high, facing your father.

"So help me, [Name]! I am going to get through to you," the king declared, his voice laced with frustration and determination. Raising his trident, the weapon shimmered brightly in his grip as he pointed it toward a nearby globe. With a surge of power, the globe shattered into countless pieces, scattered by the force unleashed by his trident.

"NO!" you screamed at your father, the anguish of your voice echoing through the chamber. Atsushi swiftly moved to your side, wrapping his arms around you, offering solace as tears finally spilled from your eyes, uncontrollable and full of pain.

Fukuzawa continued to wield his trident, his wrath unrelenting. Pointing it in another direction, he unleashed bolts of power, obliterating more of the treasures you had accumulated throughout the years—The artifacts, accumulated throughout your lifetime, shattered into fragments or melted away, losing their form and essence.

"Dad, please!" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation, but your father remained silent, relentless in his assault on your cherished belongings. The bolts of energy continued to rain down upon your treasures. Sigma watched in terror at the destruction, while Atsushi, his face filled with concern, struggled to hold you tightly in his arms.

"Dad, please! Don't!" you yelled with desperation, breaking free from Atsushi's grasp. You swam frantically, attempting to reach your father, desperately trying to stop his arms as they pointed the trident towards the statue of Chuuya. The bolt of energy hit its mark directly causing the statue to crumble from within, reduced to a mere cloud of dust and tiny, crumbly pieces that floated aimlessly through the cove.

Staring at the remnants of the statue, you swam towards it, your eyes fixated on the spot where it once stood. It was a symbol of your deepest longings, now shattered and lost in an instant. Overwhelmed with grief, you fell to the ground, crying, your palms tightly covering your eyes as sobs wracked through your throat.

Fukuzawa extended a hand towards you, his expression softening, but he stopped himself mid-air and walked away. Sigma observed Fukuzawa's departure, then turned his attention back to you, swimming closer with a guilt-ridden look on his face.

"[Name], I—" Sigma began softly, his voice filled with remorse, but before he could say more, you interjected with a venomous tone.

"Just go away!" you gritted through your teeth, your anger seething as you rushed out your words, your face still hidden deep within the palms of your hands. You knew that if you looked up, you would unleash your frustrations on Sigma, screaming in fury, your tail flicked with disdain.

Sigma winced visibly, his arm lowering from its intended reach towards you. He glanced briefly at Atsushi, who appeared conflicted but understood that overwhelming you with his presence at that moment would only worsen things. Slowly, Sigma swam out of the cave, with Atsushi following closely behind, leaving you to confront your emotions on your own.

As you continued to sob at the bottom of your grotto, believing yourself to be alone, a pair of eyes stared intently at your form. They had been waiting for this moment, knowing it was their chance to intervene. Slowly emerging from hiding, the two merman swam in circles around you, their presence palpable.

"Poor child," one of the mermen sneered, casting a disdainful gaze upon you, while his companion nodded in feigned sympathy.

"Poor sweet thing," the white-haired merman cooed deceptively, his voice laced with faux concern. His cold red eyes bore into you as he circled, his intent unmistakable.

"She has a very serious issue..." the jet-black-haired one remarked, his gaze still fixed upon you, his smirk betraying a sense of amusement. The two of them continued their circling, an air of mischief surrounding them.

"If only there was something we could do..." the white-haired merman spoke again, his tone dripping with insincere sadness, his eyes fixed on you, analyzing your reaction. He then positioned himself closer to his eel-like companion, their presence becoming more imposing.

"But there is something..." the jet-black merman chimed in gleefully, his yellow eyes twinkling mischievously. He shot a knowing glance at his companion, a wide grin etched upon his face.

"Who... Who are you two?" you demanded, your anger simmering as you furrowed your brow, your guard firmly in place.

"Do not be frightened..." Shibusawa smiled sweetly, his red eyes piercing as he stood in front of you, his gaze unwavering. Meanwhile, Mushitarou slithered around you like a cat, sneering in a taunting manner.

"We represent someone who can help you," Mushitarou smiled, his voice layered with sinister undertones. Annoyed by his intrusion, you glared back, your patience wearing thin, you watched as he left to rejoin Shibusawa, his tail lifting your chin in a mocking gesture.

"Someone who can make all your dreams come true. Just imagine it—a reunion with your prince," they said in unison, their smiles widening as they spoke.

"I don't get it," you said, a mix of confusion and intrigue crossing your features, the idea of someone offering a solution to your heart's desires captivating your attention.

"Fyodor possesses great powers," Shibusawa revealed, a dark chuckle escaping him as he flashed a sinister grin, drawing closer to your face, his eyes locked with yours.

"The sea demon...?" you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice as you regarded both of them. "I couldn't..."

You contemplated the offer presented to you, grappling with a surge of desperation that you had never experienced before. The thought of being with Chuuya without the constant worry of the demon's tricks enticed you, even if only for a fleeting moment.

"No. Get out of here. Leave me alone!" you declared, your eyes narrowed in defiance as you turned away from them, determined to resist their tempting offer.

"Very well then... it was merely a suggestion..." Shibusawa's voice trailed off as he swam away, a smug smile adorning his face. Mushitarou followed suit, his expression one of disdain.

Yet, as you gazed upon the stone profile of Chuuya, your heart shattered. Deep within, you contemplated the risks, the dangers, and the price you might pay for just a fleeting moment with Chuuya. Even if it meant sacrificing your own well-being, your desperate longing compelled you.

"Wait!" you yelled out, your voice filled with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.

"Yes...?" Shibusawa responded, his voice taking on a menacing tone, a dark grin spreading across his face as he addressed you, relishing in the opportunity that had presented itself.

"Guide me to him," you firmly ordered, your gaze unwavering as you looked at both Shibusawa and Mushitarou.

"Then follow me, Your Highness," Shibusawa responded with a sickly sweet smile, his voice laced with malice as he locked eyes with you.

Somewhere amidst the reef, Sigma and Atsushi continued to swim in circles, unaware of the unfolding events.

"I didn't mean to tell," Sigma swore, guilt evident in his voice as his tail twitched anxiously. "It was an accident!"

"I know, Sigma," Atsushi replied, sadness etched across his features as he kicked a pebble with his tail. He looked up and noticed you swimming alongside the two mermen. Locking eyes with Sigma, they shared a silent understanding before swiftly swimming toward your figure.

"[Name]!" Sigma called out, swimming closer to you. "Where are you going?!"

"I'm going to see Fyodor," you responded bluntly, your tone resolute and your frown firmly set. It was clear that you had no intention of changing your mind or heeding any objections.

"What?! [Name], no! Fyodor is dangerous, he's a demon!" Sigma exclaimed, worry etched across his features as he tried to reach out to you. However, you shot him a glare that spoke volumes, silently warning him not to interfere.

"Why don't you go tell my father?" you retorted sharply, your gaze lingering on Sigma for a moment before you turned away, resolute in your decision. "You're good at that."

Sigma and Atsushi exchanged helpless glances as they watched you swim away, their expressions a mixture of concern and frustration. They had tried to reason with you, to protect you from the dangers that awaited, but their words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Sigma gestured for Atsushi to follow him, silently communicating their shared determination to keep you safe.

The merman, Shibusawa, led you deeper into the dark and foreboding depths of the sea bottom. The once vibrant surroundings gave way to an eerie and desolate landscape, where random spirals of lilac smoke erupted from the ground. Sigma and Atsushi followed cautiously, maintaining a distance but remaining determined to protect you.

As you approached the entrance of what appeared to be a cave, a wave of hesitation washed over you. The cave bore a disfigured creature's shape, its open mouth adorned with menacing fangs and teeth, as if ready to snatch away anyone foolish enough to venture inside.

"Come this way," Shibusawa beckoned sweetly, his voice laced with that same sinister smirk that sent chills down your spine.

Swallowing hard, you mustered your courage and followed them into the depths of the tunnel. Inside, the walls were adorned with thousands of small, rotten-looking creatures, their twisted bodies reaching out towards you in a tormenting manner. Their crooked heads, with big sad yellow eyes that seemed burdened with knowledge, emitted haunting wails that echoed throughout the cavern. It was an eerie sight that made your skin crawl.

Suddenly, one of the creatures grabbed onto your arm, its grip surprisingly strong. Panic welled up within you as you fought desperately to free yourself from its grasp, the struggle intensifying with each passing moment.

"Come in, child. It's rude to linger in doorways, you know?" a voice echoed from within the cave, its tone laced with a hauntingly alluring melody. Once you managed to break free from the creature's grasp, you cautiously proceeded further, your gaze sweeping the surroundings. Finally, you caught sight of a figure seated on a throne made of bones, his eyes glowing with an eerie purple hue, fixed intently upon you

"One might question your upbringing," the man said, still looking down at you from his imposing throne. With graceful movements, his tentacles, colored in an eerie blend of black and purple, aided him as he swam toward you. A slight smirk adorned his face, and you couldn't help but notice the cross pendant hanging around his neck as he stood before you.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, your majesty," he said with a charming smile, reaching out to take your chin, displaying a self-assured demeanor.

"You must be the sea demon, right?" you asked hesitantly, managing to free yourself from Fyodor's grip with a quick and subtle movement. You tried to maintain a straight face, concealing your nervousness.

"It seems that my fame runs across the ocean," Fyodor chuckled amusedly, his gaze never wavering from your form as he circled you, attempting to get a better look. Stopping behind you, he continued, "Yes, that's me. I believe you already know my name."

"But enough with the introductions, let's cut to the chase," Fyodor said, his voice smooth as silk. He tightened his grip on you with one of his tentacles, pulling you closer to his face.

"You're here because you have a thing for a human, a prince no less. Not that I blame you," Fyodor chuckled amusedly, his purple eyes gleaming with malevolence. He grabbed your cheeks with his hand, whispering to you in a voice heavy with an accent, "He's quite the catch, my dear. If I were you, I wouldn't want to miss this proposition that I have."

"And what proposition do you speak of? They say I have to be wary of you," you retorted hastily, breaking free from his hold, trying to maintain a straight posture and serious demeanor, though a light blush adorned your cheek at the mention of Chuuya.

"Who says that? Your father? You know that the only thing he does is lie to you, didn't you notice?" Fyodor's tone dripped with insincere amusement as he taunted you. In the corner of his eye, he noticed your widened eyes and saddened expression, which only seemed to amuse him further.

"And I propose to make you human," Fyodor continued, his voice oozing with a sinister charm. "After all, I'm the only one who can grant you that transformation."

"Can you do that?" You asked, scoffing while maintaining a suspicious glare at him. Fyodor responded with an amused laugh, looking at you like a predator would eye its prey.

"My dear, Precious Shell, that's what I do. Otherwise, my fame wouldn't be that of a Demon," Fyodor said with a sneer, his purple eyes gleaming with mischief. His purplish tentacles wrapped around your arms, pulling you closer to him, enveloping you in his presence.

"I admit that in the past I've been nasty," Fyodor remarked with an amused glint in his eyes, his gaze locked onto your scowl. Shibusawa and Mushitarou lingered behind Fyodor, both wearing mischievous grins. He shifted his attention to them momentarily before resuming, "They weren't kidding when they called me kinda strange."

"But you'll find that nowadays, I've mended all my ways," Fyodor declared, a sneer tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer to your face. Mushitarou's laughter at his words earned him a sharp glare from Shibusawa.

"Repented, seen the light, and made a change," Fyodor chuckled softly, his amusement evident as he drew you nearer to him, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily.

"And I fortunately know a little secret. It's a talent that I've always possessed," Fyodor whispered with his hand playfully concealing his mouth, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic edge as his grin widened. Your response was a defiant glare that matched his intense gaze.

"And dear lady, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf," Fyodor's voice took on a dark undertone as he abruptly released his grip on you. He strode towards a nearby cauldron adorned with paintings of various merfolk. With deliberate movements, he dipped his fingers in black ink and began to sketch on the wall. You watched him, perplexed and uneasy.

"Of the miserable, the lonely, and depressed" Fyodor's tone oozed with sarcasm as he glanced back at you. Stepping aside from the painting, he provided a clear view of what he had drawn. To your dismay, the artwork depicted you with an expression of profound misery. His purplish tentacles rested languidly on the cauldron's rim, and his grin was equal parts eerie and mocking.

"Pathetic," Mushitarou and Shibusawa whispered to you, their voices carrying a sadistic gleam that matched the wickedness in their eyes. You felt disturbed by the drawing, your unease evident, while Fyodor's laughter filled the air in response.

"Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need," Fyodor's voice took on a dramatic, raspy quality as he spoke. The cauldron before him exploded in a burst of mystical energy, materializing two of his drawings into life. One depicted a sorrowful merman, the other a melancholic mermaid.

"This one's longing to be thinner," Fyodor pointed out, his gaze directed at the mermaid with an empty expression on her face. Shifting his attention, he indicated the merman, who wore an expression of lovesickness. Fyodor continued with a sinister edge, "That one wants to get the girl."

"And do I help them? Yes, indeed!" Fyodor's grin widened as he spoke. With a flourish of his hand, he granted the mermaid a transformed appearance, while the merman's features grew handsome and captivating. The two figures locked eyes, their happiness palpable as they were finally reunited. Yet, the merman's expression twisted into a maniacal smile, he seized a knife and brutally ended the mermaid's life.

"Those poor unfortunate souls, so sad, so true," Fyodor's voice resonated, his gaze locked onto your horrified expression. In a sudden motion, one of his tentacles snaked out and grabbed you, causing you to startle and let out a yelp.

"They come flocking to me, crying, 'Will you help us, pretty please?'" Fyodor's tone was eerie as he circled you, his movements reminiscent of a predator closing in on its prey. Despite being held by his tentacle, you felt an unsettling shiver run down your spine.

"And I help them! Yes, I do!" Fyodor's grin widened, his fingers pressing into your shoulders as he forcefully guided you to a corner of the room. As your back met the wall, you couldn't help but notice the once-blank walls now adorned with handprints and twisted shadows, each with a disfigured smile. Your expression fell, a mixture of fear and realization flooding your senses.

"Now, it's happened once or twice, someone couldn't pay the price," Fyodor's words rang out as he plucked a skull from a shelf, holding it aloft while casting a look of faint disgust upon it.

"And I'm afraid I had to rake 'em 'cross the coals," Fyodor's voice dripped with a malevolent amusement, his words laced with a sinister edge. Your gaze shifted around your surroundings, taking in the grim tableau that surrounded you. Souls and handprints adorned the walls, painted in foreboding black, each visage etched with an aura of unending misery. Your discomfort grew with every glance.

"Yes, I've had the odd complaint, but on the whole, I've been a saint," Fyodor's tone adopted a falsely sympathetic note, his words laden with insincerity. The skull he'd held was discarded, and with a predatory grin, he swam closer to you.

"To those poor unfortunate souls," Fyodor's amusement was evident as he spoke. Without warning, his tentacles coiled around you once more, their grip unyielding as he dragged you towards the looming cauldron.

"So here's the deal: I'll whip up a little potion to make you human for three days. Got that? Three days," Fyodor's voice held a calculating edge, his words carrying an air of unnerving certainty. The tentacles that held you seemed to tighten slightly, adding to your discomfort.

"Now listen, this is important: before the sun sets on the third day, you've got to get ol' princey to fall in love with you," Fyodor's smirk seemed to stretch wider, his eyes gleaming with mischief that sent a shiver down your spine. You shifted uneasily, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that you were merely a pawn in his grand game.

"That is, he's got to kiss you; not just any kiss, this kiss of True Love. If he does kiss you before the sun sets on the third day, you'll remain human permanently!" Fyodor's laughter echoed around you, and his glance held a glint of mischief. Your thoughts whirred, a blend of discomfort and contemplation clouding your expression.

"But, if he doesn't, you turn back into a mermaid, and you'll belong to me" Fyodor's tone took a chilling turn, his cold glare accompanied by a sadistic smile that sent a shiver down your spine. Dread pooled in the pit of your stomach as his statement sent a shiver down your spine. The unease within you deepened as you grappled with the gravity of his words.

"Well, my dear, it's only fair that I disclose one more detail," Fyodor's voice took on a sinister undertone, his amusement still lingering as he focused on you.

"I'm going to take something precious from you, your siren voice," he continued, his tone dripping with cold satisfaction. As his words settled in the air, his gaze flicked to the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

"But don't fret. I'll keep it safe," Fyodor's grin twisted into something that bordered on eerie reassurance. His tentacles swirled as if in a macabre dance, and his purple eyes held an unsettling glint as he contemplated the course of events that were about to unfold.

"We got a deal?" Fyodor's words dripped with amusement as he observed your pensive expression. His tentacles rested against the cauldron's edge, the glint of malevolence in his purple eyes was hard to ignore.

"I... I don't know," you stammered hesitantly, uncertainty tainting your words. Fyodor's chuckle, though small, seemed to reverberate within the air, his gaze still fixed upon you as he released his grip, allowing you a moment to process the weight of the decision before you.

"Life's full of tough choices, in'it?" Fyodor quipped, his tone infused with a certain dark amusement as he watched your inner struggle unfold before him.

"No, this is wrong. I can't do this," you finally uttered, your realization hitting you like a tidal wave. The gravity of what you were about to embark on sank in, and it clashed violently with your morals and values. In that moment, a surge of courage fueled your actions, propelling you to swim away from Fyodor.

"Fine then, forget about the world above. Go back home to daddy and never leave again," Fyodor's words dripped with a sneer, his tone laced with disdain. The barbed comment made you come to a halt in your tracks, the memory of chuuya and your father's actions rushing back to the forefront of your mind. You turned back to face Fyodor, conflicted emotions swirling within you.

"But even if I accept, without my voice, how can I—" you started, your words tinged with a blend of uncertainty and anxiety. Your gaze met Fyodor's, and your tail swished restlessly in the water, mirroring the unease that coursed through your being. The prospect of the sacrifice you were about to make weighed heavily on your mind, overshadowing the hope that flickered within you.

"Everything will be fine, my dear shell. You are a mermaid, a being of inhuman beauty and seductive presence. You don't have to say anything," Fyodor's voice, dripping with a blend of assurance and manipulation, sought to sway your doubts. He spoke of your allure as a mermaid, attempting to diminish the importance of your voice in the human world. You bristled at the condescension, unable to shake off the feeling that you were being trapped in his web of manipulation.

"Besides, the men up there don't like a lot of blabber," Fyodor interjected with an enigmatic smile, cutting off your train of thought. The dismissal of your voice and its significance stung, and you felt a mixture of frustration and indignation.

"They think a girl who gossips is a bore!" Fyodor's amusement was evident as he continued, his words playing on your hurt expression. The irony of his statement wasn't lost on you, the manipulation of your perception becoming clearer with each passing moment.

"Yes, on land, it's much preferred for ladies not to say a word," Fyodor's voice carried a sense of calculated charm, a persuasive attempt to guide your perspective. His enigmatic smile persisted, masking his true intentions behind a veneer of authority.

"And after all, dear, what is idle prattle for?" Fyodor's words, delivered with a twisted sort of wisdom, seemed to coax you into questioning the value of your voice. The weight of his manipulation was tangible in the water around you, a current of influence attempting to sweep away your convictions. Yet, even as doubt crept in, you found yourself reflecting on the meaningful connections you had forged with individuals who appreciated the authenticity of your words.

"They're not all that impressed with conversation," Fyodor's words continued to weave their spell, his tone dripping with a deceptive allure that aimed to weaken your resolve. His enigmatic smile held an unsettling power, as if he was manipulating not just your thoughts, but the very fabric of reality around you.

"True gentlemen avoid it when they can," Fyodor's assertion seemed like a carefully constructed narrative, a seductive distortion of truth that sought to undermine the value of communication itself. Yet, the threads of truth were interwoven with his lies. You recalled the times when words were empty, when conversations held no depth, and you realized that not all interactions were genuine or valuable.

"But they dote and swoon and fawn On ladies who withdraw," Fyodor's words dripped with a mixture of mockery and disdain, his sneer conveying his distorted view of the world above. His tentacles once again coiled around you, their grip tight and unyielding. You watched warily as he dipped his hand into the black ink, a shiver coursing down your spine as you anticipated his next move.

"It's she who holds her tongue who gets a man," Fyodor's amusement rang out, his chuckle embodying the twisted satisfaction he derived from distorting reality. The ink-stained hand reached for your face, drawing an ominous X over your mouth. The gesture robbed you of your voice, silencing you in the most literal sense. A sense of powerless frustration welled within you, your glare at Fyodor a testament to the anger that churned beneath the surface.

As if his actions weren't enough, two shadowed figures emerged, winding themselves around your neck with a cruel grip that constricted your airway. The sensation of choking, both literal and metaphorical, tightened its hold on you, further amplifying your vulnerability in the face of Fyodor's manipulation.

"Poor unfortunate souls," Fyodor's voice resonated, his tone laced with a blend of triumph and malevolence. The situation had unfolded exactly as he had orchestrated, and the satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.

"Go ahead! Make your choice!" Fyodor's words carried an eerie command, his enigmatic smile growing even wider. The weight of your decision, the gravity of the sacrifice he had compelled you to consider, bore down upon you. The struggle between your desire for freedom and the overwhelming pressure of his manipulation cast a tumultuous sea of doubt within your mind.

"I'm a very busy person, and I haven't got all day," Fyodor's cold assertion hung in the water, a stark reminder of the urgency he imposed upon you. His demeanor remained calculating, his words an unspoken threat that compelled you to act on his terms. As the cauldron's magic conjured an image of Chuuya, your attention was captured by the fleeting vision. You found yourself drawn to the representation of his presence, your hands instinctively reaching out to touch the water's surface, a smile graced your lips, a reflection of the warmth that Chuuya's memory invoked within you.

"It won't cost much. Just your voice!" Fyodor's tone dropped with a sense of foreboding, his words a chilling contrast to the image of Chuuya. And in a cruel twist, the image shattered, the shards of the vision dissipating into the water, leaving you with a deep ache of loss and the stark realization of the sinister price Fyodor demanded.

"Those poor unfortunate souls, so sad, so true," Fyodor's chuckle cut through the tension, a dark amusement dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you. The weight of your situation intensified, the realization that your interactions with him were tied to your longing to see Chuuya again. It was a desperate gamble, a last resort to break free from the shackles of your father's commands.

In the shadows, Sigma caught sight of your interaction and hurriedly swam towards you, an intent to intervene etched on his face. However, before he could reach you, Shibusawa's swift action silenced him. A dagger at his throat froze Sigma in his tracks.

"Take a gulp, take a breath, go ahead, Sign the scroll, " Fyodor's taunting voice accompanied your every heartbeat, urging you forward into this pact. The weight of his manipulative words, the gravity of the choice you were about to make, settled upon your shoulders like an anchor. As if in a trance, you found yourself moving closer to the bowl of black paint and the ominous scroll.

With a steady hand, you reached for the quill and signed the scroll, the ink absorbing your agreement with a sense of finality. The implications of this act reverberated through your thoughts, a swell of uncertainty mingling with the spark of defiance that burned within you. Sigma and Atsushi watched with horrified expressions. Their eyes reflected a mixture of disbelief and concern, you lowered the quill and your signature marked the scroll.

"Mushitarou and Shibusawa, now I've got her, boys," Fyodor's triumphant declaration cut through the charged atmosphere, his voice dripping with a sense of victory as he turned to his accomplices. The sinister duo exchanged a knowing glance, a shared sense of accomplishment passing between them.

"The boss is on a roll! This poor unfortunate soul," Fyodor's triumphant words resounded with a self-satisfied grin, his gloating demeanor enveloping the space like a malevolent aura. The finality of your decision, the ink-stained contract you had signed, played directly into his hands, and he relished in the power he now held over you, he then positioned himself in front of the cauldron and burst with mystical energy, the cauldron erupted in an explosion of vibrant colors and swirling currents. causing you to flinch instinctively.

"Beluga, sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea," Fyodor's voice resonated with a chant that carried an eerie cadence. The air around him seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly energy as he extended his grip to the cauldron. As he invoked the incantation, the cauldron responded with a surge of power. An explosion of blue magic erupted from its depths, its brilliance illuminating the water around you.

"Larengix glaucitis, et max laryngitis, La voce to me," Fyodor's incantation flowed from his lips, the arcane words weaving a spell that resonated with ancient power. The very water seemed to respond, the currents shifting and swirling around him as he continued to manipulate the cauldron's magic. incantation took hold, a profound transformation occurred. The blue magic that had been circulating between you and Fyodor began to shift, its hue morphing into a vivid shade of green.

"Now, sing," Fyodor's command sliced through the water, his tone cold and demanding. The very currents seemed to still, the atmosphere charged with an electric tension as he fixed his gaze upon you. The spell he had woven, the contract you had sealed, demanded its price—one that was intricately tied to the very essence of who you were.

As you sang, your voice held a haunting beauty, the notes resonating with the emotions that had led you to this point. But with each passing moment, you felt something inexplicable happening. Your voice began to waver, its strength faltering as if it was being drawn away from you. Panic seized your chest, the realization of what was happening sending shockwaves through your senses.

"Keep singing!" Fyodor's demand was sharp, a command that compelled you forward even as you felt your voice slipping away from you. Desperation and fear swelled within you, and you put a trembling hand over your throat, your efforts to hold onto your voice proving futile. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you watched your voice, the essence of who you were, coalesce into a tangible form and move toward Fyodor, now belonged to him.

As your voice completed its journey to Fyodor, a transformation began to unfold within you. doubt crept in like a shadow, causing uncertainty to dance across your thoughts. Your tail, once a graceful extension of your being, began to split and morph, forming human legs in their place, a surge of searing pain coursed through your body, ripping a scream from your lips. Your arched back quivered as the sensation intensified, your mermaid tail igniting with an agonizing burn.

A cry tore through the water as your body convulsed in response to the excruciating transformation. Gasping, choking, your senses were overwhelmed, and your vision blurred with the turmoil of the shift. The familiar strength of your tail, the embodiment of your existence, was replaced by the searing unfamiliarity of two human legs.

Your body instinctively fought against this sudden change, and panic surged within you as your limbs flailed. Desperation drove you to attempt swimming with your new legs, but the sensation was foreign and awkward, and your efforts only seemed to drag you deeper into the water.

In your moment of struggle, Sigma and Atsushi sprang into action. Sigma's strong grip closed around your arms, his determination propelling you forward, while Atsushi positioned himself at your back, his presence urging you onward. Together, their support propelled you towards the surface, their combined efforts a lifeline in your disoriented state.

With a burst of effort, you erupted from the water's embrace, your hair splaying out in a watery arc before gravity tugged it back. The taste of air was a heady relief, even as coughs wracked your frame, water expelled from your lungs in violent bursts. The surface world stretched before you, both a new beginning and an unfamiliar challenge.

Your legs thrashed in the water as you tried to regain your bearings, your movements mirroring those of a newborn creature finding its footing. The disorientation tugged at you, leaving your body sinking slightly, but Sigma swiftly emerged from the water, extending his arms to offer you support. Clinging to him, you continued to cough, your throat burning from the water's intrusion.

Sigma and Atsushi were both panting, the exertion of their efforts evident in their labored breaths. Your body drained from the transformation and the struggle that followed, lay on a sun-soaked rock, your hair cascading like a curtain in front of your face. Weariness clung to you, your energy spent from the ordeal that had brought you to this new reality.

Gingerly brushing your hair away from your face, the fatigue momentarily taking a backseat to curiosity, you were met with an astonishing sight. Before you lay a pair of legs, an appendage you had only dreamed of possessing. Tentatively, you lifted one of the legs, wiggling your toes experimentally in the water. The surprise in your gaze mingled with the lingering exhaustion, but as the reality of the transformation settled in, a radiant smile bloomed on your lips.

As you explored the sensations of your legs, a voice, both familiar and teasing, cut through the air. Turning your head, your gaze met the figure of Dazai, who had arrived on the scene. His arrival was punctuated by his signature irreverence.

"Oh, look what the catfish dragged in! You look different," Dazai's playful quip rang out, his eyes dancing with mischief as he observed your transformed state. Your smile widened at the sound of his voice, your fatigue momentarily forgotten in the wake of his arrival. Dazai's presence had a way of lightening the mood.

"Wait, don't tell me, it's your hair, huh? You've been using the dinglehopper," Dazai's voice dripped with mock astonishment, his eyebrows raised in faux surprise, he rested his arms against your legs. His comment was so absurd that it drew an involuntary chuckle from you. Shaking your head in response, you couldn't help but be amused by Dazai's obliviousness.

"She got legs, you idiot," Sigma's frustrated exclamation cut through the playful atmosphere, his exasperation evident as he addressed the oblivious merman. Dazai, in response, feigned shock as he lifted his arms away from your legs, a comically exaggerated expression on his face.

Seizing the opportunity, you gingerly removed the strands of seaweed that had been playfully covering your feet, revealing your transformed legs. With a mixture of curiosity and determination, you slowly rose to your feet. The motion was met with a tremor that rippled through your legs, a reminder of their unfamiliarity.

"How many times have I told you that I don't like it when you call me names?" Dazai's tone carried a hint of annoyance as he addressed Sigma, his frustration palpable. He shot the merman a side glare, a clear signal of his displeasure. In response, Sigma huffed dismissively and rolled his eyes. You attempted to move, but your legs wavered beneath you, and the ground slipped from beneath your feet. The wobble turned into a stumble, and before you knew it, your legs gave way entirely, causing you to descend to the water with a thud.

"She's been turned into a human. She's gotta make the prince fall in love with him, and he's gotta kiss her," Atsushi explained, rolling his eyes at the ongoing bickering between Dazai and Sigma. Amid their chatter, you attempted to stand up once again but you struggled, your body was still adapting to the unfamiliar sensation of having legs.

"And she's only got three days. Just look at her. On legs! On human legs! My nerves are shot. This is a catastrophe! What would her father say? I'll tell you what her father will say—he's gonna kill himself a merman, that's what Fukuzawa will say!" Sigma's voice echoed with annoyance, his irritation palpable as he glared at Dazai. His annoyance was palpable as he glanced at you, concern for your well-being intermingled with his irritation.

"I'm gonna march myself straight home right now and tell him just like I should've done the minute…" Sigma's frustration was palpable, his voice trailing off as he turned to leave. But you acted swiftly, grabbing his arm and shaking your head vehemently to dissuade him.

"… and don't you shake your head at me, young lady," Sigma retorted his tone a mix of frustration and concern. He seemed torn, caught between his desire to protect you and his exasperation with the situation.

"Maybe there's still time. If we could get that demon to give you back your voice, you could go home with all the normal fish, and just be… just be…" Sigma's voice softened as he looked into your eyes, his gaze faltering when he saw the heartbroken expression on your face.

"… just be miserable for the rest of your life," Sigma sighed, his frustration evident as he buried his face in his hands. He let out a small exasperated click of his tongue before directing his gaze back toward you.

"All right, all right. I'll try to help you find that prince," Sigma relented, his annoyance giving way to reluctant determination. The spark of hope that ignited in your eyes was enough to soften his resolve, and as you hugged him, a small, genuine smile formed on his lips.

"What a soft fish I'm turning out to be," Sigma sighed, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. His self-deprecating tone held a touch of humor and fondness for the situation he found himself in. He then felt a sudden splash of water, and his gaze snapped to Dazai with a glare, his frustration evident.

"Now, Belladonna, if you wanna be human, you gotta dress like one! Now come on," Dazai grinned mischievously, his tone filled with excitement. He grabbed a piece of cloth and some ropes, his gaze shifting towards you. Confusion clouded your expression as you watched him, uncertain about his intentions.

Chuuya strolled along the shoreline, his steps heavy with frustration, a flute held tightly in his hand. His expression was a canvas of vexation, mirroring the emotions swirling within him. Beside him, Albatross, suddenly exhibited a burst of energy, leaping and barking with fervor. The dog's insistent movements caught Chuuya's attention, prompting him to glance down.

"Whoa, what's got you all riled up, mutt?" Chuuya questioned his voice a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Albatross continued his animated display, gesturing and tugging at Chuuya, urging him to follow a path that led further away from the shoreline. With an amused chuckle, Chuuya relented to the canine's persistent insistence, surrendering to Albatross's determination.

"You look stunning, now that's what I call a siren," Dazai's voice rang out with a grin, accompanied by a wolf whistle that echoed through the air. Your attire was a drape artfully wrapped around your waist, the ensemble exuding an undeniable allure. Nearby, Atsushi's gaze scanned you from head to toe before he let out a resigned sigh.

Amid this moment, a familiar bark sliced through the air, drawing everyone's attention. The sound grew louder, accompanied by the rush of paws approaching rapidly.

Albatross dashed towards you, his excitement is evident as he closed the distance. Uncertain of what to expect, you instinctively sought refuge behind a nearby rock, attempting to shield yourself from the unknown. The dog's energetic arrival brought him close to you, and as he looked back in amazement, a sense of familiarity washed over you. Then, a voice—a voice you had heard before, repeating a scene from when you had first encountered him on that ship.

For a fleeting moment, your knees threatened to give way, yet, you steadied yourself, trying to regain your composure. And there, just as you had imagined, Chuuya appeared, reuniting with his beloved pet. His eyes, a mismatched pair of captivating hues, flicked up, meeting yours. A pause—an unmistakable moment of surprise—and the unspoken question hung in the air. Had he recognized you? The intensity of his gaze left you wondering.

"Are you okay?" Chuuya's concerned voice reached your ears as he approached you, his steps measured. Your gaze remained locked onto his face, and a rapid nod accompanied your smile, expressing both relief and reassurance. His answering grin was a small yet genuine one, a sign of his understanding and approval.

"I'm sorry if he scared you, he's harmless, just a bit hyperactive sometimes" Chuuya's voice reached you, laced with a chuckle. His attempt to alleviate any concerns regarding his exuberant canine companion was evident, his gaze subtly avoiding your eyes. In response, you dared to step a bit closer, your presence invoking a flicker of surprise on Chuuya's features. With a soft smile, you acknowledged him.

“Have I met you before? You seem very familiar to me,” Chuuya's question, uttered with a mix of puzzlement and intrigue, hung in the air. The sensation of recognition gnawed at him, leaving a lingering feeling that he just couldn't shake.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Chuuya's voice cut through the air, his gaze fixed on you with a sense of recognition. In response, you offered a subtle nod, a spark of familiarity mirrored in his smile. As his fingers intertwined with yours, a gentle warmth spread through your hand. Albatross nestled against Chuuya's leg, as he looked between you and his owner excitedly.

"We have! you're the one I've been looking for, What's your name?" Chuuya's grin was both welcoming and inquisitive, his eyes studying your features as if trying to unravel a memory. You opened your mouth to reply, eager to share your name, but to your surprise, no sound escaped your lips. Instead, you found yourself mouthing the words, your touch instinctively moving to your neck in a gesture that sought to convey the absence of your voice.

"What's wrong? What is it?" Chuuya's voice was a soft caress, his concern painted across his features as he regarded you with gentle eyes. In response to his inquiry, your hand instinctively moved to your throat, a silent indication that you were grappling with the inability to speak.

"You can't speak?" Chuuya's question hung in the air, a mixture of understanding and surprise lacing his tone. In reply, you nodded, your expression carrying a tinge of sadness. A sigh of frustration escaped Chuuya's lips but his soft gaze met your eyes.

"Then you couldn't be who I thought," Chuuya grumbled, your frustration evident as you blew your hair from your face. But then your smile returned, a glimmer of determination in your eyes. Leaning over the rock where you'd been sitting, your hands began crafting signs in the air.

“Your breath?” Chuuya's confusion was palpable, his brows knitting together. Swiftly, you made a dismissive gesture, reiterating your earlier signal, followed by a sweeping motion that simulated swimming.

“You need help?” Chuuya's question hung in the air, met with your increasingly animated movements. As your urgency grew, you leaned too far and nearly toppled over, but Chuuya's swift reflexes prevented your fall, a grunt escaping him as he caught you just in time.

“Woah, careful!” Chuuya's worry-laden voice cut through the air, and as his arms encircled you, your cheeks flushed with warmth. The sudden realization that you were now in his embrace caught you off guard, momentarily halting your movements as he helped lift you to your feet.

“You really must have been through something,” Chuuya's soft words brought you back to the present, his concern etched in his features. His reassuring smile provided a comforting anchor as you tuned into his presence.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you,” Chuuya's declaration resounded with determination as you found your footing once more. With one arm draped over his shoulders, you leaned on him for support, acknowledging the trembling in your legs.

A grin played on your lips as you cast a glance over your shoulder, catching the signs of approval and smiles from Atsushi and Dazai while Sigma's panicked eyes watched your form. With Chuuya by your side, you began to walk, your legs trembling slightly but finding stability in his presence.