Cursed concept and it’s Octavinelle boys with a sushi chef darling.

Imagine going fishing and one day just pulling up a great big mess of aquamarine / black tangled up in your nets and it’s just a??? Merman??? Now how on earth are you going to cook this one????

Floyd just grins at you and waves as you cut him free from the net, popping a fish or two in his mouth as he waits for you to finish untangling him. The moment you do, he’s diving back into the sea instantly, grinning away smugly.

You have a very love-hate relationship with this guy. He herds the fish for you, chasing them into your net. But he helps himself to your stock, dipping a hand into your nets and eating the fish alive. Floyd takes up almost all the space on your little boat, lounging around like he owns it.

Both of you strike up conversation…. The best both of you can, him with his odd chattering noises, and you with your words. Floyd’s learnt a few from you.

Boat, is the thing he’s on. It floats, and carries all the fish. He tends to say that word with a patronising tone, and you’re pretty sure he’s gloating about how he doesn’t need such trifling items to swim through the seas.

Fish, are the tasty little morsels that stream through the ocean’s waters. He’s impressed by the number you net each time, watching with a certain amazement as they flop around on the deck when you fish them out. You have weird ways of preparing them. Scooping out all the guts, slicing them into thin, tiny strips of flesh. Dipping them into some salty black liquid, before downing it in one gulp.

You have to coax Floyd to try it, eating a few slices before he decides that you’re not likely to poison him. After a few bites, he seems to like it just fine, but there’s just something about biting through a beating heart that’s still more enticing than any thing you could serve.

The next thing he learns is your name. Rolling it around his tongue, chanting it with a giddy sort of glee. Ah, that’s what you call yourself? It has a nice ring to it. Once he’s mastered saying it, Floyd’s never shutting up. He sings your name, laughing away in that strange, seductive voice of his.

It just sounds so nice. So… right. It falls right off his tongue, flowing like the gentle waves of the sea, lapping against the golden shore.

It’s you.

You, you, you.

Gods, he loves you. He never wants to stop loving you. Yet you don’t understand his chatter as well as he’ll like you too. You get the general gist of it, but that isn’t good enough. Floyd wants you to listen to his words, to feel the emotion woven within every single line.

But you can’t. At least, not yet.

So he calls your name. Again, and again, and again. Slipping as much love and affection as he can into every single syllable.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s you.

The one who he loves.

Sick!Yuu and Ace 🥺