#like back when I did them a lot as a teenager on DA I would just recycle the same ideas:

[kalza]

*me every nine months or so*

I should do art trades again....

#I just never have any idea of what I want the other artist to draw for me #like back when I did them a lot as a teenager on DA I would just recycle the same ideas: #1. two normally very serious characters having a tea party #2. two characters from completely different timelines or fandoms meeting #3. multiple characters playing a card game #4. an oc with no other context/theme and left up to the artist to figure out the rest #yeah...I was not creative at all with my prompts..... #plus my job takes up 90% of my time and energy #maybe someday I'll actually do them again? I dunno.... #kalza thoughts

[dokidokitsuna]

Dream Alliance: Jambastion Rebirth

So yesterday I was archiving the text from all my DeviantArt posts about the DreamAll AU, and it was really fun to read through all that lore and story again. ^^ It’s unfortunate that I was working on it during my transition from DA to here; I feel like a LOT of info got lost in the confusion. But at least now I have it all in my own files to reference (or retell) later…especially if I ever get around to reviving/expanding on the AU like I’ve always wanted. There are a lot of unused scripts and ideas waiting for that day…

And since I was feeling inspired today, here’s one of ‘em. ^^ Since this was such a dark idea that I don’t really consider “canon” to the AU, I never really wrote it down or anything…but it made for such a good story that I held onto it in my heart~. Warning: LOOOOOOONG post ahead. ^^

So at the end of DreamAll’s story, Magolor and Division Six risk their lives and defeat Void Termina, yadda yadda…but once the world is finally safe from that threat, its next big question is: how can we make sure we’re safe from the teenage mad scientist with the god-killing mecha and bioengineered alien attack dogs…?

Basically, Magolor inadvertently made himself so powerful that the rest of the Dream Alliance and the world is kinda scared of him now. ^^; And as I showed in the final comic, Susie Haltmann takes it upon herself to investigate him and find out what his deal is…and in doing so, learns that he’s actually a Jambastion mage, and Hyness’ estranged son. And thus, the scheming begins~.

Mind you, Susie doesn’t really have anything against Magolor. It’s just that the pressure of essentially becoming president of the world, coupled with the revelation that Magolor is not only an eccentric genius, but also a dimension-bending dark mage that she doesn’t know how to control…it leads her to fall back on old (villainous…) habits and start to treat him like an obstacle, to be overcome by any means necessary.

And her first play would be to use the threat of Hyness’ execution to get Magolor to spill his guts: to tell the truth about his magic powers, explain in detail everything he did to create the Void Destroyer system, and get it all on the record so that he can’t lie about it anymore. Which I think Mago would agree to immediately-- he doesn’t want to see his father die (despite his literal crimes against humanity), and tbh he’d probably be kinda glad to have the weight of that deception off his shoulders. Unfortunately, he’s not worldly enough to understand that divulging all this information is the beginning of the end…

Next play: regulations. Now that the crisis is over, the Dream Alliance’s superweapons will naturally have to be decommissioned…including Magolor’s ‘angels’. Seeing as they’re technically not living things (as per Mago’s explanation) Susie would demand that he toe the line and put them down, or at least demonstrate that he’s willing and able to cut them off from his power on command.

And naturally, Magolor would think of this as going a bridge too far. Marx, Galacta, and Morpho might not have their own life force, but they’re still sentient beings who love and trust him as their creator. And if it’s a choice between betraying that trust and leaving the Dream Alliance entirely, he’s inclined to choose the latter.

And ^that is the decision Susie would be waiting for: proof that, when pushed, Magolor cannot be trusted to act in the ‘public interest’. And considering what he’s capable of, it’s now in the public interest for the Dream Alliance to find a way to contain him.

Of course, she doesn’t go after him right away-- she simply waits for him to come to her, thinking he can convince her that his angels are more than just weapons. When that fails, he resigns on the spot…unfortunately, he never actually gets the chance to leave.

Based on everything Magolor’s explained about the way his magic works…she decides her best bet is to cut off his hands, severing his connection to his vambraces and sending him into shock from blood loss all at once. Both serve to severely weaken all of his subconscious magic use, and his angels by extension-- Galacta collapses, and Morpho straight-up disintegrates. Marx is the only one able to remain conscious without his master’s direct influence, and immediately realizes that something is seriously wrong. His first instinct is to rush to find Magolor and slaughter anyone in his way…unfortunately, he discovers that he doesn’t have his flight powers anymore. Without his usual magic strength, he can hardly even move his prosthetic arms, and is easily captured when Magolor’s lab is raided.

Fortunately, Meta Knight is one of the arresting officers, and decides to take pity on Marx and “lose track of him”, letting him leave in the dead of night for parts unknown. He disappears for a couple years, skulking in the shadows, stealing food when no one’s looking, being miserable and missing all his friends.

But during all that time, he’s also preparing…he spends most of his days retraining his body to adjust to the much smaller amount of magic that he has access to, and trying to find information on the dissolution of Division Six and Magolor’s whereabouts…which proves to be pretty difficult. So eventually, when he finally gets a decent amount of fighting strength back, he decides to start his revenge plot by finding an ally: Magolor’s father, who’s still imprisoned where he’s always been.

Hyness has never met Marx before, but he remembers Magolor’s mentions of him. And besides, they both share a deep concern for Magolor and the willingness to do anything to save him. So Marx explains the situation and breaks him out, setting his plan in motion.

He realizes that Susie will have seen him through the security cameras, and will predict that he’s coming for Magolor. So he decides that his true next target will be Galacta Knight, and asks Hyness to use his powers to find and awaken him first.

After being forced to use his magic just to keep himself alive during his long imprisonment (which by this point, ended up approaching the decade mark) and having his hands removed as well, Hyness is also a lot weaker than he used to be. But he has experience on his side, and quickly adjusts by using the magic stored in his cape (basically, what I was foreshadowing back when I drew this). Together he and Marx make a fairly powerful team, forcing their way into the facility where GK is being stored, and setting him free to unleash his wrath.

^This is a decision Magolor would probably take issue with, if he were present to give his opinion on it-- he’d be against triggering GK into a psychotic break just to create a diversion, knowing all that death and destruction would weigh heavily on his conscience afterwards. But Marx, being in a desperate and angry place, doesn’t care, and figures potentially scarring his little brother is a small price to pay to get their family back together.

And while Galacta Knight is out acting as a weapon of mass destruction, Marx and Hyness manage to find and release Morpho Knight as well. Morpho has very nearly reverted back to the unresponsive energy blob that he was when Magolor first found him…but he’s at least conscious enough to follow his brothers around and help protect them occasionally. Marx leaves him with GK and follows Hyness to Magolor’s location, deep within Dream Alliance HQ.

How things go from there is a little more nebulous…I think it would probably start out as a stealth mission, which would take an unfortunately bloody turn before Magolor is finally found and revived. I think Morpho and Galacta would eventually catch up with them there and make things even bloodier. ^^; I think Susie would get into a big ‘tech vs. magic’ fight with Division Six that’s honestly been a long time coming. And I think Magolor, despite having just been awakened from a years-long medically-induced coma, would be forced to take point as the most powerful mage left in the group, and do something drastic just to put an end to the conflict and get everyone out of there. 

The aftermath would be bittersweet, and a bit ironic-- essentially, Magolor would be forced to go back to living in a secret society cut off from the rest of the world. He’d be reunited with everyone he cares about, including the father he once thought he might never see again, but he’d still have to live with the fact that the world he risked his life to save ultimately rejected him…and after all the atrocities his family committed just to get him back, the world is probably now convinced that its fears were justified. The damage is done, and irreversible…after all the effort he put in to become a hero, his short-lived dream is already dead and gone. I honestly don’t know what he would want to do with his life after that…

…Anyway, if you made it all the way here, thanks for reading~

#Oddly enough Magolor’s ‘angels’ start to look more like demons when they’ve been abused and neglected #symbolism at work~ #kirby #gijinka #au #dream alliance #marx #hyness #magolor #galacta knight #morpho knight

[sure-i-exist]

Where did the kids live in Fairy Tail?

So back when everyone in Fairy Tail was a kid, they all definitely needed to live somewhere, right? And logically no one's gonna be giving a kid an appartment so does anyone wanna hear my headcanons for their housing situations when they were younger? No? Too bad, here it is!

First of all, before anyone points out Fairy Hills exists: 1. those dorms only exist for the girls, 2. I imagine Fairy Hills was actually fairly recent, it's been around for a few years but wasn't there when, for example, Cana joined the guild. I'm also ignoring most of the Fairy Hills OVA except for the fact those dorms exist at all.

Talking generally here, my headcanon is that for those who had their own appartments at like age 12 (or more specifically, those under 16-or-so, who couldn't own/rent anywhere because of their age), Makarov actually technically owned them, contractually he was the tenant for each and every home the youngest fairy tail members lived in, but those members would give money they earned from jobs directly to Makarov to pay for their rent. However, it was this situation which led to Makarov investing in the creation of a dormitory that members of Fairy Tail could live in, regardless of age, meaning there was a safe place for young members to stay and for the older members there was a place they could turn to if they were struggling to find a home elsewhere in Magnolia.

And thus, Fairy Hills was born. Originally it was going to be unisex but there were some issues trying to set that up so instead Makarov took a vote and found it was mostly women and girls of the guild who'd want the option of this dormitory, so he was just thankful he didn't need to set up another dorm too for men of the guild, because it is very expensive to upkeep Fairy Hills (and it was an expense that got cut during the 7 years, because of the dwindling funds and members). Those who were still teenagers when Fairy Hills was set up and either couldn't or didn't choose to live there (the strauss siblings, gray, possibly Jet/Droy depending on when they joined, etc.) just continued with the previous set-up of Makarov technically owning their place and they paid rent via him til they were old enough to replace his name on the contract with their's.

[From here onwards, I'm just taking the opportunity to talk one-by-one about each of the different kids growing up (there's a lot of Cana, but everyone else gets their section too), and their specific house situations.]

Now, all this is well and good, but what about Cana? She joined Fairy Tail when she was 6 years old. Makarov's not gonna put his name down to give her an appartment all on her own, she's too young (and quite a few of that generation of Fairy Tail joined young, but they were at least around 10 at the time).

Cana had the most varied housing situation since she joined so young. The Penalty Game OVA did say Cana stayed at the church before she joined the guild, and I really like that but I also feel like saying "oh she just stayed at the church for years and years before she was old enough" is kinda too easy and a bit boring. Personally my idea is that things slightly changed once she officially joined the guild (which did take surprisingly long, she just kept showing up for months before anyone asked if she actually wanted to join, after a few weeks Makarov had thought she'd already joined and he'd just forgotten when exactly that was). She did continue to stay at the church some nights, but she also began to start sleeping at the guild instead (which isn't exactly good, and is in fact much worse than sleeping at the church, but she felt like after joining she had to be at the guild all the time, in case Gildarts showed up and she missed him).

Eventually, Makarov noticed she was semi-regularly sleeping in the guild and was concerned when he realised she didn't truly have anywhere to properly stay, and while it wasn't much he decided she'd stay with him at least a few days a week, to make sure there was someone specifically looking after her and keeping an eye on her, for her to be safe. Several of Makarov's neighbours thought Cana and Laxus were siblings because of this, despite not looking much alike.

It wasn't just Makarov who took her in, as both Macao and Wakaba would occasionally have her stay the night with either of them (Wakaba was very occasional cause he was not the most responsible fella and half the time he didn't get home at all, while the other half he'd end up going home with someone else. Macao was similar, but to a lesser degree, and particularly in the months before Romeo was born he'd invite Cana to spend a few nights kinda as practise for when he had his son). A couple other guildmembers did the same every so often too, having her stay round for a night or two, resulting in Cana being on good terms with almost every member of the guild before any other kids even joined. She didn't always stay with Makarov, or Macao, or whoever else in the guild, though; she still continued staying at the church once a week or so, and of course would still sleep at the guild from time to time (because everyone does that, especially when there's a party going on). She never had an even slightly stable home, which sucked, and definitely affected her growing up, but there was a lot of love, and that much was good.

Gray also joined the guild a little earlier than others, he was 8 at the time, so he also had a little bit of the Cana experience, though he was never with other guildmembers, instead he only stayed with Makarov or at the guild (and once at the church). This lasted for a few weeks/months before he managed to convince Makarov to help him get some kinda home for himself, which Makarov agreed so long as Cana and Gray lived together for it (the logic being two 8 year olds is safer than one). Cana was fine with this, finally getting some sort of a stable home though she'd still sometimes be offered to stay the night with an older member of the guild (most likely to be Macao) who was kinda looking out for her. Once Gray got the appartment however he was determined to keep it, making sure he and Cana always made enough each month for rent (Makarov would chip in whenever they didn't quite get enough, though they didn't always know he was doing this).

Erza, the 3rd kid to join Fairy Tail, also followed the routine of staying at the guild, then staying with Makarov, and then she actually stayed with Gray and Cana for a few weeks before finally getting her own place. She stayed with Makarov much longer than Gray did, and actually only stayed with him rather than Cana's experience with other members too. Erza stayed at Makarov's home for a little less than a year before she moved out. (This time the neighbours caught on that this was some kid Makarov was sort-of-adopting, not another grandchild. They still didn't realise Laxus was the only real grandchild though, and that Cana was as unrelated to the Dreyars as Erza was.)

Natsu stayed with Makarov for about two days before he left. Natsu didn't often spend much time in Magnolia anyway, at any moment he could he'd be off looking for Igneel, and this was largely true until he became friends with Lisanna, who didn't take long jobs away from the guild and could usually be found at Fairy Tail. He'd still be out looking for Igneel most of the time, but his desperation faded as time went on and he actually built a proper home for himself (or rather, he found an abandoned house in the woods and made it up for himself and Happy). In the time between when he joined the guild and when he found the house, he almost entirely slept in the guild hall or in the woods, he'd not exactly had a conventional house with Igneel so didn't see the point for himself.

By the time the Strauss siblings came to the guild, Makarov was already putting in the plans for a Fairy dormitory. They stayed with him for a few weeks (by this point Laxus was either living alone after Ivan's removal from the guild, or was on a job for a month or so since otherwise he'd be living with Makarov then). Shortly after joining, Makarov helped the siblings find a place to live, they paid rent via him, and that was that until Mirajane turned 16-or-so and could claim tenancy herself.

Levy must've been the next to join, since she wasn't seen when Happy was born but she was there for Lisanna's birthday. When she joined Fairy Hills would've been set up I reckon, Erza and Cana would have moved to live there (as well as various women in Fairy Tail), and Levy would've likely skipped the previous step of living with Makarov as she could immediately find a home in Fairy Hills.

Laxus is the final person I'm gonna discuss, since he's unique in that obviously he's always been part of Fairy Tail. I think it's pretty safe to say that he lived with Ivan when he was a kid, but frequently followed after his grandfather and spent time at the guild. I don't know if it's stated exactly what age Laxus was when Ivan got kicked out, but I assume he was around 16, and from that I like to think he was technically still living with Ivan at the time but both Laxus and Ivan would go on long jobs that lead them far away from Fairy Tail (though Ivan wasn't officially going on jobs every time he left for weeks or months at a time, that's just what Laxus thought he was doing). Because of this lack of closeness, Laxus didn't really see how his dad was so bad that he needed to be removed from the guild (he knew he was far from the best guy around, but he didn't know the worst stuff). Anyway, when Ivan left Fairy Tail that left Laxus living with Makarov for about a week or two before he found a place for himself. It was an uncomfortable week.

#fairy tail #cana alberona #makarov dreyar #fairy tail headcanons #laxus dreyar #gray fullbuster #erza scarlet #natsu dragneel #im not putting the others thats too much for me lol

[lurkingshan]

8 and 17

May/December

I had a long chat with @bengiyo and @twig-tea about this trope last night and what actually counts for it. It's age gap, but not just any age gap. M/D requires that the pair be in different seasons of life (thus the name). There is no strict age cutoff or specific amount of years that needs to be between them; what matters more is the story has to be rooted in their different stages of life and how they work across that to find a way to connect. And I do have a favorite in this category...

HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count

Yes, the show many dare not speak of. It has always made me sad that the A story of this drama was so upsetting to people, because it meant the B story, and these two right here, got overlooked and under-discussed. When they meet at the gym, Bo Xiang is 16 and he acts like it--he's a sweet kid but he's very immature and impulsive and mercurial. Zhi Gang is in his late 20s, running his own small business, and recovering from a whole lot of heartbreak due to both former lovers and his homophobic family who has rejected him. He is broken and afraid to trust, and Bo Xiang is instantly smitten with him and pledges his undying devotion.

What I like about this age gap romance is the show takes it seriously. Zhi Gang is concerned about a teenager crushing on him and puts up boundaries, while at the same time he is drawn to Bo Xiang's warmth and unwavering support. Bo Xiang has all the passion and fervor of a kid who's never been burned and doesn't know to be afraid, and he sees so much good in Zhi Gang, which is a balm to Zhi Gang's wounds. They are very attracted to each other and once they give in to that attraction, the story turns to figuring out how a relationship between them could possibly work. Zhi Gang agrees to see Bo Xiang but only under certain conditions, demanding that he focus on his studies and his work and not get wrapped up in their relationship. And we see that against all odds, they actually make a great pair, with Zhi Gang inspiring Bo Xiang to mature and take his life more seriously, and Bo Xiang giving Zhi Gang the comfort and stability he needs to heal. The series brings them back years later in HIStory 4 to show us they are still going steady and now getting married, and it was completely believable to me that they would be. These two work.

Ugly Duckling

Let's talk about this trope too, because I've chatted with a few friends who were not entirely sure what it meant. UD is a trope centered on a character who feels unlovable, often in part but not wholly because of some perceived deficit in their physical appearance, who finds love and through that love a path toward self-acceptance and confidence in themselves. That second part is crucial--it doesn't necessarily require a physical makeover, but the internal journey is deeply important to the trope. It's not just about characters who are "ugly" (there really aren't any ugly people in dramas, fam) but rather that journey to loving themselves that matters. I want to shout out one of my favorites in this category...

Blueming

Si Won grew up as a fat kid, and though he is thin now and quite clearly conventionally attractive, he doesn't feel that way on the inside. He carries a lot of trauma about the way he was made to feel ugly as a child by both his mother and the society he lived in. He is threatened by Da Un because he seems so effortless in the way he carries himself and in his easy confidence, and Si Won has never felt easy in his life. He resents him, and Da Un is at first puzzled by this, and then moved when he realizes the source of Si Won's insecurities. Their romance is healing for Si Won, in that it allows him to build some much needed confidence in himself (which is why the final act conflict between them was so smart IMO, because Da Un ended up undercutting that newfound confidence in a way he did not intend). By the end of this story Si Won has come to respect himself enough to demand what he needs from a partner, and to believe that he has something to offer in return. It's such a lovely story.

Send me a number and I’ll post the best and/or my fave show that uses that trope

#history 3: make our days count #blueming #ask game #shan answers

[greentrickster]

CorreaCelestePriscila: Por las vibras que da hesperia me imagino que en caso de lastimarse ocultaria la herida y no se lo diría a nadie...cómo mencionó adrien el miraculus de la mariposa no tiene poderes curativos o el tipo de resistencia que tienen los trajes de Ladybug y cat noir....eso posiblemente le generó algunos problemas a hesperia....adrien mencionó que en una pelea posiblemente le rompió las costillas...y viendo el especial tenían la intención de matarlo por cualquier medio necesario y Hesperia estaba siempre defendiendose y nunca atacando activamente a shadybug o a claw noir

Me imagino que cuando el grupo y el fueron a una misión el fue herido en el trascurso de esta y lo oculto y no se lo dijo a nadie para no preocupar a nadie y poder verlo el mismo después...de algún modo el grupo se entera y hesperia se llevará el regaño del año por eso..jajaja

(Google translation: From the vibes that Hesperia gives off, I imagine that if he got hurt he would hide the wound and not tell anyone...as Adrien mentioned, the butterfly miraculus does not have healing powers or the kind of resistance that Ladybug's suits have and cat noir...that possibly caused some problems for Hesperia...adrien mentioned that in a fight he possibly broke his ribs...and watching the special they intended to kill him by any means necessary and Hesperia was always defending herself and never actively attacking shadybug or claw noir

I imagine that when he and the group went on a mission he was injured in the course of it and he hid it and didn't tell anyone so as not to worry anyone and he could see it himself later...somehow the group was entire and Hesperia will get the scolding of the year for that...hahaha)

GreenTrickster: I agree, he definitely gives off some serious ‘if left to my own devices I’ll try to just walk off a broken leg’ vibes! I disagree on the idea that his suit doesn’t offer the same level of protection that Shady and Claw’s do, though – I think the enhanced durability is an inherent part of the miraculous base power set. I feel it’s more along the lines of not having something like the Miraculous Ladybug power to fix any damage that manages to get past that. The reason that he’s taking more damage than any of the other heroes we’ve seen is that he’s working hard to do no more harm than absolutely necessary whereas Shady and Claw probably weren’t above killing him if it got the job done, so they were using a lot more force than anyone in canon ever did (hence the injured ribs (which were actually cracked, not broken, Adrien was panicking)). Meaning there’s a fully-stocked first-aid kit in the hideout at all times and Gabriel’s gotten unfortunately good at self-applied first aid.

That said, I think you’re right, at least in regards to more minor injuries. If it’s something serious, Gabriel will own up to it, because keeping himself in working order is very important if he wants to keep being Hesperia and spreading hope and rebellion amongst the populace. If it’s just a sprain or bad bruising, however, he’ll absolutely try and play it off as unimportant, just all part of the cost of what he’s doing. Luckily for him, he’s got Alya, who, as a trained babysitter for her younger siblings, can spot a booboo at twenty paces and is absolutely not above using her ‘Mom isn’t here so I’m in charge’ voice against a grown man. He’s learned to just roll with it if she catches him, it’s easier to own up than to convince her that he’s actually fine. Nights she couldn’t be there, he did his best to take care of himself a bit better in order to live up to the trust she’s putting in him, but also wasn’t above just detransforming, sneaking back into his house, feeding Nooroo, and collapsing into bed to deal with it all in the morning.

Now that there are five teenagers watching his back… this is not longer so much of an option. There’s always at least one of them around every night now, and Claw ‘borrowed’ a tube of lipstick from Chloe to make a sign that says ‘Don’t Let This Bad Man Go Home Without A Health Check,’ with a little doodle of Hesperia underneath. It’s taped to a wall, and the kids follow this instruction religiously.

(Gabriel doesn’t know why Claw’s so invested in his health, but he appreciates the concern. Unrelated, Adrien’s been getting interested in medicine lately as well – he says that he’s think about maybe becoming a doctor when he grows up, so he can help other peoples’ loved ones, which is very sweet of him. Naturally Gabriel’s supporting him in this new interest and let him get some books on first aid so he can start learning the basics and make sure it’s a path he wants to pursue.)

OoOoOoOoO

CorreaCelestePriscila: Alguno de los niños del grupo vieron a hesperia enojado??....me lo imagino como alguien que es algo difícil de enojar por su personalidad vista en el especial...me imagino que le grupo se conmociona al verlo enojado ya que no es el tipo de persona que imaginas que tiene temperamento...pero sigue siendo una variante de Gabriel y la frase de que hay que temer a alguien tranquilo cuando se enoja....si rip a quien lo enojo...

(Google translation: Did any of the children in the group see Hesperia angry??...I imagine him as someone who is somewhat difficult to get angry because of his personality seen in the special...I imagine that the group is shocked to see him angry since he doesn't He is the type of person that you imagine has a temper...but he is still a variant of Gabriel and the phrase that you have to fear someone who is calm when he gets angry...yes rip whoever makes him mad...) 

GreenTrickster: Oh yeah, I imagine that when Hesperia gets angry, like angry angry, it’s absolutely terrifying. I imagine he’s the sort to get very quiet and very cold when he’s truly furious, the sort where all everything becomes very clear and focused from his own perspective. The kids have seen him frustrated a few times, in a regular, everyday sort of way like normal people do, if somewhat less frequently than most, but not really, truly enraged. I think that that wouldn’t happen until either close to the final battle with the Supreme or in an altercation where the enemy was an adult miraculous user who hurt one of the kids.

I think this would also be the point where they all discover that oh, you know that cane Hesperia has? The one Claw Noir’s been mocking for being ‘like my staff only worse’ ever since he joined the team? Yeah, it has a sword in it. The sword has been there the whole time, Hesperia has known about it the whole time, he’s simply been choosing not to use it on children.

This is also where they discover he was quiet the keen fencer himself in his youth, and has picked up the sport again since becoming Hesperia. Just, you know, to keep in shape, since being a magical resistance leader is a highly active job, and it translates well to fighting with a cane.

#Tales of Miraculous Hesperia #gabriel agreste #hesperia #betterfly #adrien agreste #ml paris spoilers #ml paris special

[inkabelledesigns]

Hey so have I ever told you guys about the most ridiculous thing to happen to me online as a teenager? Yeah I got trolled and harassed by the same guy for so many years that I lost count. And it was all because I told him you shouldn't steal people's Sonic fan character sprite sheets. Here's the story.

So as a teenager, I was really into those SSS Sprite Show videos. It was a genre of Sonic content on YouTube that consisted of Sonic and Shadow with Sonic Advance style sprites, and Silver with a Genesis styled sprite, over realistic photo backgrounds, using Speakonia voices to talk. The humor was often pretty terribly written. The three would often live together, Shadow would beat the crap out of Silver, Sonic was obsessed with the Sex and the City Franchise, Amy was constantly written to be a horrible, obsessive antagonist which sucked, and so many people would recolor Sonic Advance sprites to be their fan characters, which would slowly take over the show and lead to more wacky adventures, becoming more about them than the canon cast. Some were pretty basic recolors, others put a lot of effort in. And as I said, this was a genre, as in, multiple people made sprite series with this setup, all using the same voices and formula, and they all lived in the mansion with the SSS. They were baaaaaaad, but y'know, the kids were having fun, and I used to know a lot of people in this community. I even tried my hand at spriting and got actively told to quit by one of my former boyfriends so I couldn't be better at it than him. Yeah he was a peach. This is sarcasm, he was a dick and incredibly sexist towards me. Hell the amount of sexism I faced from guys in this community was kind of ridiculous. The stuff I went through just for being a girl on the internet in the 2010s was something else. If this part of the sprite community somehow still exists, I hope people have gotten better about that.

Anyway, it was incredibly common for fan character sprite sheets to cross over into each other's series, but not everyone consented to people using your sheets. So often, you'd email people your sheet, and only people who had permission would use it. That is, until some assholes leaked them. One of my friends had their sheet leaked and given to someone else who abused the use of it so much, and then there was all this stuff with emailing where some confident lil shit decided to flaunt that he had all these sheets he wasn't supposed to have. We never found definitive evidence as to who leaked them, but I feel confident that I know who it was. But the person flaunting it, I and this other person called him out. He was not only flaunting the sheets under a false name and using them in hisain account videos (often turning my friend's character into a bitch to make them look bad), but he was also making fake accounts to troll himself to generate sympathy and get people's attention off of it. And when we called him on this, he proceeded to harass us for the better part of a decade. Impersonating me on YouTube to say things I would never say in grammar I would never use, hell, he did that to a lot of people that would go on to call him out. He'd make entire videos on his main account telling us we were awful and to stop harassing him when we weren't, he was the one actively harassing us. The drama was real, and this continued to happen for YEARS after all of us stopped interacting with him, on YouTube, DeviantArt, it was bad, and it bugged me. I would be on vacation with my family, completely unplugged, and then come back to hundreds of messages gumming up my DA inbox from him under fake accounts.

But like, at a certain point you learn to block it out. Like as a teenager, I was worried people would think his impersonation was actually me, and some people did! But anyone who like, actually knew me wasn't fooled, and if you're willing to believe that sort of thing on sight without questioning it in the slightest, maybe you're not someone I need in my life or should care about the opinions of. It was a valuable lesson that not everyone is someone you need to hold in high regard. Be respectful, but also know that not everyone respects you, and their opinions don't need to hold as much weight for you emotionally as someone who does.

The last time I logged into my old DeviantArt, I had like ten messages from deactivated accounts telling me to go fuck myself, from this guy, still impersonating someone else, the same way he had for all that time. It'd gotten a little less frequent while I was still active, but my account has been dead for years. I couldn't believe it, I haven't used my DA since I was what, finishing college? And the messages were recent, it was kind of pathetic.

Like, we just wanted him to stop stealing shit, and there he was, having learned nothing. Consent matters, if you have not been given permission to use someone's character in your creative work, you ask first, and if they say no, you respect that no. You don't get someone to send you their materials, abuse those materials, and then harass people for telling you to knock it off. Yeah, I probably could have been nicer in the way I handled things, I regret that, but knowing what I know now? Regardless of how I behaved, this guy had some unacceptable behavior. And I hope wherever he is now, he's grown up a little. Like, if I really lived rent free in your head for that long, all because I told you not to be a butt to my friend, to respect their boundaries, maybe I'm not the villain in this scenario. Trying to control my actions and obsessing over the fact that I thought you were doing something ugly, when I was an absolute nobody that no one took seriously anyway, isn't nearly as productive as working on bettering yourself. Like genuinely, I hope he's doing better. I felt no sympathy in the moment these things happened, but I do feel a little bad for him now. I've been there, in a place where I cared too much about people's views of me, and it left me wrecked and trying to people please far more than was reasonable. I changed all of who I was in an effort to be liked, and it didn't do me any favors, just made me miserable. It took me so long to learn that hey, you're likable and loveable just by being you, you're not a bad person or failing at being human, you just hadn't found the right people yet. And now you've found people who are in fact great people, and you're gonna be okay. (Yes I went through a character arc and changed as a person for the better, I am far from exactly the same person that I was as a teenager, I've grown. But I'd like to think that some of why people want me around and value me as a friend is because of things I've had inside me all along, things that are core parts of my character. As I often say, maybe being Kat isn't such a bad thing to be after all. Self love and self improvement is a process folks.)

Anyway another community's struggles came up on my feed today, and it reminded me of this story, that's why I'm telling it. To anyone out there that's had to deal with a troll, well, I can't say all experiences are equal, and the internet has changed quite a bit since this happened to me. There are some troll experiences that you can't ignore that will turn into something serious and bad, but there are others that you can brush off, because those trolls don't matter. And there are some that are a complex mix of it all. It's often not worth it to interact with someone that attacks you in bad faith. What I can say is that if someone makes it their life mission to take you down, without really knowing you? Think long and hard about how much time you really want to dedicate to that. Not everyone is going to like you, some people are going to hate you with no real basis or reason for it sometimes. Some people are going to believe things about you that aren't true. The best thing you can do is put your best foot forward, be kind, be courteous, be a thoughtful person, and surround yourself with people who are also kind and thoughtful. Of course, have some self reflection. If someone says your behavior is hurtful, really think about it and analyze yourself, work on yourself, we can always improve. But know that you're not gonna please everyone, and that in and of itself is not a moral failing. It's what you choose to do about it that matters.

The bottom line is this: You can't control how anyone feels about you or behaves, all you can do is control your own actions and make smart choices.

#longpost #sonic sss show #harassment #sexism #sonic sprite community

[just-barrow]

day 31 of @almost-a-class-act's War Is Helloween prompts!

SAS: Rogue Heroes - Johnny Cooper/Reg Seekings

Character A really wanted to get the most out of this supposedly haunted hotel by booking the most haunted room on Halloween night (bonus points if this is also the Doll Room).

"Wasn't an entire family murdered here in the thirties?"

"Yeah, they say their spirits still haunt the hallways."

"Great."

Johnny and Reg are making their way to the haunted hotel they are going to spend their Halloween night in. Reg had been a little hesitant beforehand—he still is—but let himself be dragged into it by his friend’s enthusiasm. No one else had wanted to come, and Reg wasn’t about to let people think he was a wuss. 

Johnny may have neglected to mention that he has booked them the most haunted room of the hotel.

The hotel lobby is old-fashioned and richly decorated to make it look even more spooky. The receptionist who checks them in is in full zombie make-up, and Johnny grins excitedly at Reg as he takes the keys from her. 

“Why did she call us brave?” Reg asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion as they make their way upstairs.

“No reason.” 

“Johnny.”

He doesn’t have to answer; next to their door is a little plaque that says ‘Welcome to our most haunted room! Enter at your own risk…’

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

With a sweep of his arm and a ‘ta-da!’ Johnny throws open the door. 

Reg takes a hesitant step inside and looks around at the, he has to admit, very normal hotel room. There are two beds, a bathroom, and a desk with a TV on it. It’s old-fashioned, just like the rest of the hotel, but he had expected a lot more from it. 

He turns around and yelps.

“What is it?” 

“Fucking doll.” It’s sitting next to the TV. Reg quickly turns it around to face the wall. 

Johnny can’t help but chuckle and makes a mental note to turn it back when Reg isn’t looking.

They get settled in as evening falls. Reg casually suggests taking a tour of the rest of the–slightly less haunted–hotel, but Johnny is determined to stay in their room and experience the alleged hauntings himself. Reg concedes and tries to get comfortable, but his shoulders are hunched up around his ears. A cold wind blows past him every few minutes. He tells himself it’s just because it’s a drafty old building.

Meanwhile, Johnny is reading from the little pamphlet that came with the room, animatedly telling Reg all about how a father gruesomely hacked his whole family to death on this very floor; the cause of all the unexplainable occurrences at the hotel. He’s on his stomach on his bed, kicking his feet like a teenage girl reading a magazine. 

Reg huffs a sigh, shooting the occasional glance at the doll. “Glad someone’s having fun.”

Suddenly, the TV turns on. The screen shows static. 

Johnny perks up. “Did you do that?”

Reg’s eyes have gone wide. “Stop pissing about, that was you.”

“I swear it wasn’t!” 

They both look at the doll. The remote control is lying next to her.

“Oh, fuck yes, here we go.” Johnny jumps from his bed and walks closer, the light of the screen illuminating his face.

Reg automatically follows suit, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to duck under the covers. The longer he is here, the more unnerved he feels. Something about this room is very off. He stands a little closer to Johnny than he usually would.

Johnny quickly glances at him and smiles, turning the TV off with the remote. “Don’t think the TV is going to do us any harm.”

“It’s not the TV I’m worried about,” Reg mutters uneasily, eyes locked on the creepy doll.

Then something giggles behind him.

Despite his ever growing fear, Reg whips around and stands protectively in front of Johnny, shielding him from whatever is in the room with them. 

There is nothing there.

“I don’t know what it is you want but you can fuck right off,” he growls into the semi-darkness.

Johnny isn't scared at all, his stomach instead fluttering with a mixture of adrenaline and butterflies. He presses close to Reg's firm back. After a brief hesitation, he reaches down and takes his hand. 

When Reg tenses up for a moment Johnny thinks he has made a huge mistake, but then their fingers tangle together and Reg gives his hand a light squeeze.

Biting his lower lip to keep from bursting into a relieved grin, Johnny noses behind Reg’s ear, his warm breath tickling his neck. Clearly shivering at the sensation, Reg turns around to face Johnny, hauntings now entirely forgotten. When Johnny tugs him closer and presses their foreheads together, a broken little sound escapes Reg’s throat. His free hand finds Johnny’s hip. He seems a little breathless and his eyes are pleading—it makes Johnny’s chest feel tight. 

Deep inside he has known for a while that he isn't the only one who has been yearning for this. 

It feels good to be right. 

And as Reg finally gives in and softly kisses Johnny on the lips, Johnny smiles into it and congratulates himself on a plan well executed.

He silently thanks the hotel spirits.

A light on one of the nightstands starts to flicker as they tumble into bed together.

#war is helloween #my fic #sas rogue heroes #johnny cooper #reg seekings

[apoptoses]

Followed @desertfangs' advice and dropped everything I was doing so I could read chapter 2. As usual I thought I was ready and it turned out that I wasn't, not even a little bit. THIS!!! "Daniel didn’t meet his eyes. He was trying to bite back his smile, his teeth trapping his lower lip and holding it still. Armand’s last remaining resolve shattered", queen of characterization I swear. Your words evoke such clear images and capture the essence of the characters so effortlessly. This is one of those moments for both of them I think, specially re: how they play off each other. Daniel making every single victory count and Armand being unable to say no to him. Not when it truly counts at least. And then there was Daniel not knowing how to drive a modern car, Armand WANTING to be petty about it (he would lmao) but not succumbing to his impulses and actually guiding Daniel along. The role reversal to end all role reversals. Daniel's hand on his neck in the car, just perfection. “I certainly hope you’re watching the road" I mean SAME but I also want Daniel to keep petting him like a cat pls 🥹 Every single touch feels so immense, almost hurts to read. These are two people who know each other inside out, quite literally, they're experts on each other's bodies, to quote Anne herself, of course every intimate gesture would feel monumental after years of not touching each other.

And you were NOT kidding when you said they would be taking no prisoners and would get to have every single conversation they needed to have. "And how many of those times did I sit at home wondering if it would be the last, if you were done with me for good? The running, the begging for me to bring you home- do you not understand what it did to me?" LIKE THIS FOR INSTANCE. Yes, Daniel is rightfully angry about many things, but the fact that he pulled that move on heavily traumatized 500 y/o teenager with major abandonement issues time and time again for YEARS and didn't stop to think about the repercutions is worth talking about. Worth bringing up at a Waffle House in the middle of nowhere, USA, in fact lmao. Actually one of my biggest vc fandom pet peeves is how some people claim Armand left/"abandoned" Daniel shortly after turning him like... are we remembering things differently here? Did they read the same books? Are they just parroting stuff they've read on twitter? tf? Armand was nowhere near a perfect partner don't get me wrong but like, that part of the story is pretty clear cut in regards of who left who yk... like pls y'all be serious and stick to the facts. Goddamn. ANYHOW, I digress. They're in pain, I'm in pain, but god they need to talk about this before they can properly heal and get back together and try again. It's very much of a case of "if I loved you any less, I would be able to talk about it more" between them, isn't it? xoxo DA I love this sfm and can't wait for more 🥹 

DA 🥹 It took a hot minute to respond because your message struck a chord in me, and I ended up seriously redoing a conversation between Armand and Daniel in chapter four. But we'll get to that!!

I am so so so happy to hear that all of their little touches and expressions and gestures add up to create who they are!! I worry a lot about like...am I describing what Daniel is doing with his hands too much or is this building up the scene? Because I am aware I have a hand fetish and might be gratuitous but I feel like the micro-expressions and gestures are what make the scene come alive!

But YES to your point about role reversals and them knowing each other inside and out! I get so emotional about that, in the next chapter Armand will go on about all the secret things he knows about Daniel and how he changed his body and just. It's so much. It's a lot!!

And even BIGGER YES to the point about nobody getting off easy here, Daniel included.

We're gonna go in pretty hard on some of Armand's mistakes because he's so closed off and Daniel needs to open those wounds and find out what was going on underneath. But Daniel's running isn't getting ignored. I've really tried hard to have them both keep mentioning that they BOTH fucked up, that it's BOTH their faults the relationship failed, and they BOTH have to change. Nobody is a victim. Nobody is perfect.

And I wish Daniel's running got talked about more, though I understand why it doesn't. We never get a single word about their time together from Armand's POV until TVA and he goes into so little detail. You have to piece together the hurt yourself and these books have so much going on I think his wider abandonment issues (aside from Marius not rescuing him) end up falling through the cracks for all but the biggest Armand fans.

You held Daniel accountable here and now you've got me combing my draft to make sure all these loose ends are properly tied up ♥

Thursday we'll get a sweet moment between them so get ready for a break in the clouds. I hope you'll like it just as much!

#apoptoses answers #dungeon anon #blood sanation

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Chenford

FIC title ! Why are you afraid?

It rolls around in Lucy's head over and over and over.

It's Tamara's voice asking her what she was so afraid of.

It could have been about a lot of things - Rosalind's upcoming trial and how the DA was hounding her to testify even if she said she didn't want to, a detective approaching her asking if she wanted to join his team as an undercover cop and maybe think about her future and career in the LAPD, her mother asking her about progress on getting her eggs frozen. Honestly, there was a lot to be scared of but Lucy knew Tamara was talking about one specific thing.

Or rather, one specific person.

She was not easily fooled by Tim Bradford's hasty retreat from the apartment she shared with Lucy and she continued to ask Lucy probing questions until the latter cracked and told the teenager that they were simply coming up with a background story to their undercover personas, Dim and Juicy.

Oh, and they may have kissed.

Tamara squealed, shaking Lucy so violently that her head spun, saying something about finally and how she knew it.

Knew what? Lucy wanted to ask but held her tongue.

Tamara simply looked at her when she didn't respond asking her that question that's been on Lucy's mind since.

Lucy always prided herself about being confident. It wasn't easy being a woman and a woman of color at that in a town that highlighted glitz, glamour and well, leggy blondes but she managed to hold her own all throughout school then the Academy. She managed to get through her training program under one of the toughest T.O.s out there in one piece but something was off, different and she could not just push the thoughts away.

From a purely objective standpoint, there was a lot that could go wrong. Tim was her superior officer and she was his aide. They rarely even hung out outside of work and he was seeing someone else. Belatedly, she realizes that so was she but while Chris was a nice guy, he wasn't her nice guy. He didn't really get her and after that fiasco where he ended up absentmindedly singing that song she sang to keep herself calm while being buried alive, she figured he didn't get her at all and maybe, it was time to end things. She didn't like how he didn't talk to her about watching that video. It felt too personal.

She touches the spot on her rib briefly just as Tim rounds the corner to his own locker.

"Hey," he greets, not really meeting her eye.

Well, this was awkward.

She's saved from answering when Nolan comes in, smiling and greeting them both before turning to Tim, "Bailey was asking if Ashley's allergic to anything. She plans to make some Spanish tapas for our double date tomorrow night."

Lucy tries to fade into her locker if that were possible. Since when did Nolan and Tim double date?

"Oh, uh, Ashley and I split up last night," Tim lets out awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

Lucy tries not to let the shock show on her face, looking anywhere else but Tim, who seemed to be gaging her reaction. She quickly stuffs her bag into her locker, excusing herself, muttering about getting a cup of coffee before briefing started.

The shift was awkward to say the least. They don't really talk about anything in the shop. Lucy racks her brain to find a topic they could talk about, something safe that would bring back their usual work rapport where Tim would scowl at her random musings but she draws a blank. Tim might have sensed something so he ends up talking about a football game until he thankfully, get so many calls that they're saved from attempting to make conversation.

By the time the night ends, all Lucy wanted to do was order sushi and curl up on her couch to watch some reality show she didn't need to pay much attention to but as she's walking to her car, she hears footsteps rushing towards her. She looks over her shoulder to find Tim, slightly winded.

"Hey Lucy, you want to go grab a beer?" He asks.

She raises an eyebrow at him but again, Tamara's words swirling him her head.

Why are you afraid?

She decides then that maybe she shouldn't be.

"Sure, let's go."

Tim grins at her and Lucy thinks that this could be nothing or it could be something. Only time would tell.

#chenford #drabbles #ask games

[the-cryptographer]

Notes on Lurk’s DA OCs

- (Sereda?) Aeducan. Diplomatically evil. Critical of human prejudice against elves and mages, but completely unwilling to look at Dwarven class prejudice (yes, she kept the anvil). Convinced Leliana to murder Marjo (who, yes, objectively needed to die) because she wanted to see if Leli would kill someone she loved on her command. Turned down the position of Warden Commander and fucked off back to Orzammar at the end of Origins. Took Gorim, Leli, and her personal assassin (Zev) with her. Currently embroiled in trying to snatch the throne after Harrowmont dies.

- Unnamed Kader. The Orlesian Warden Commander who took over after Aeducan fucked off. I wrote a fic where she and Sigrun kissed.

- Dominic Amell. Of Chasind descent, but got passed off as Amell when actual Amell drowned due to Templar negligence while they were both being escorted to the Circle Tower. He does not remember this and has completely embraced his noble Amell lineage. Mage supremacist and Uldred fanboy, but unfortunately(?) wasn’t cool enough to ever get invited to the militant liberationist hangouts. Also Karl def caught Dominic trying to spy on an orgy he and Anders were hosting and kicked him to the curb. Bonds with Morrigan over them both being edgy misanthropic teenagers, but loses steam on it a lot quicker than her when the outside world doesn’t really conform to his worldview. Breaks up with her to explore his bisexuality with Zev, but there are still feelings for Morrigan when the Dark Ritual happens.

- Halliserre ‘Halli’ Surana. Not the Warden. Racially marginalised honor student, teacher’s pet, and wannabe Knight Enchanter. Dominic’s rival for Jowan’s attention until they both get overlooked for Lily. Left Dominic behind when she grabbed Lily and Jowan and escaped the tower in the Origin. Bc fuck that guy.

- Dolores ‘Lola’ Tabris. If Aeducan is diplomatically evil, Tabris is rudely and unpleasantly heroic. Angry and bitey and volatile and violent and a total pill. Would have liked to be happily married, but has beef with her father trying to silence her anger about her mother’s death. Tried to make her worthy of the ‘Like dogs, Shianni’ line. Religious syncretist. My one straight OC, and her taste is suave mercenary pump-&-dump fuckboys. Is surprised when Zev actually sticks around.

- Marian Hawke. Mage. Diplomatically evil (are we noticing a theme?). A bit of a user. Extremely into political power grabs. Had a fling with Isabela, but sweet on Merrill. Considered Anders a bit beneath her and not really worth the negative press of associating with him, but enjoys his sense of humour and the slight sadism of him putting others down. Doesn’t take it well when he assassinates the Grand Cleric and ruins her plans to become Viscount and sends him away. Currently hanging out in Ostwick, getting drunk and partying and reminiscing about how she almost became Viscount, while her wife, Merrill, and Velanna (whose contact deets Merr got from Anders) plan militant elf uprisings. Would absolutely never be caught dead publicly taking responsibility for anything that happened regarding Corypheus, and did not appear in DAI (Varric hired an actor). Towards the end of the game, Fenris clearly wasn’t very happy with her in Kirkwall, so she sent him to Ostwick where he was promptly mistaken for a mage and interned in Ostwick’s Circle Tower. But that’s a story for another day.

- Aedros Hawke. Runesmith, researcher, dwarven tech and history fan, and all around lover of the scientific method. They’re a blood mage, but not in a combat oriented way as much as a ‘let’s bleed a rune onto this rock’ kind of way. Transed their gender after Malcolm’s death. Their beard is v curly. Mama’s boy, but resembles Malcolm (who was of Rivani descent) more. Their biggest dream is to publish their own scientific journal about theirs and their research team’s (Merrill, Anders, Fenris) research. With that goal in mind, they are working in coordination with Xenon in Act II instead of Viscount Dumar. Also they mucked around with Darktown enough to reinstate the old tevinter plumbing system, so they are, in fact, a sexy plumber. Also they’re bad with money and drive Carver up a wall.

- Unnamed Adaar. idk, my canon Adaar. She’s levelheaded and centrist to a fault, as DAI protags tend to be. She romanced Thom, let him go after he kept pushing her away and went for Josie, then she and Josie together start something back up with him after he becomes a Warden. I like the idea of Josie doing diplomacy work at Weisshaupt.

- ‘Lady’ Lavellan. She has a Dalish name, but goes by ‘Lady’ in her line of work. She had half a falling out with her Clan after the Keeper’s son made a pass at her, and has since been doing work as a liaison for Clan Lavellan in their dealings with human cities. She is a chronic liar, very good at telling people what they want to hear, and not letting anti-elf aggressions get to her. This becomes important when she romances Sera. Has Elgar’nan Vallaslin so everybody knows she’s baby butch.

- Felice ‘White Tears’ Trevelyan. Ex-Circle Mage. Neurotic and extremely baby. Cries at the drop of the hat. Therefore it catches people unprepared when she schemes or shows any kind of backbone or reveals herself to be a competent fighter. Is a responsible Antiquarian, and was completely unprepared for the Mage Rebellion or being the Inquisitor, but pretty relieved she doesn’t have to seduce any scary noble dudes (all dudes are scary) to buy her way out of the Circle. She is perpetually scared of a good half of the DAI party (Dorian, Bull, Blackwall, Cassandra). Hero worships Vivienne like- whoa! Vivienne is mostly pissed off that babying this extremely neurotic blonde little magelet is now necessary to properly rub elbows with the Inquisition. But, yanno, it’s hard not to become the mask and start sympathising with someone who adores you so.

#anyhow i was bored so i made a list of my OCs #sorry for being basic #Lurk OCs

[phoenixcatch7]

*Rants about those awful Ten Years Later epilogues with the protagonist getting the girl and having 2.5 kids and a picket fence*

It's just so frustrating to read or watch some amazing, lengthy coming of age style story, where there's superpowers and found family and oaths of friendship and people surviving and growing up and winning great battles and one last, great huzzah, and (most of) the loose ends are tied, and the exhausted but relieved hero returns home with a final message to the world, and then you turn the page and. 'oh it's been many years since the events of their youth, now they're adults who do their taxes and got married to that one pretty girl who had a crush on them when they were kids, and now they've got brats of their own! How fitting!'

Like? Hello? What kind of heteronormative bs? I don't want to see this bland, empty future! You promised high stakes mysteries and grand revelations and profound soliloquies, and you delivered, so what's this?! This one dimensional ideal? This flat, pointless vision dragging out the end of the story? Is this where you stuffed your own selfish whims?

You write for teenagers and kids, you wrote grand fantasy and dramatic escapism, and at the very end you suck all the emotion out and deliver some unimaginative adult cis het allo normative bs where they've all got the jobs they were expected to have and a big house and there's now OCs running around the place that we're suddenly supposed to coo over la dee da yada yada, aw isn't that nice. No! Why would the target audience care about taxes and who gets paired off and what shade of eyes the kids re running around with??

There's no plot, there's no stakes, there's nothing but suddenly a blank space stretching between the last scene and this distant, mindless future where the main cast get ground down back into the masses and joins in the adult lifestyle and start doing all the things the previous adults in the series did and the kids had to rail against to stay alive. This isn't closure.

Boring. Useless. Immensely confining. It just feels like author-service, like the author slips a glimpse of what they think should be happening, what they think of all the cast after all is said and done, and it's demeaning. Are our beloved cast allowed no more growth? No more standing out from the crowd? They've done their part, now get back in the box?

Is the audience not allowed to wonder? Are we not allowed this final moment to settle? Are we not allowed to imagine our protagonist returning home, adjusting to peace, learning how to love in the aftermath? No weird careers, no hopeful ships, no running off to champion new causes or continue to fight for what they believe in? No budding friendships with once enemies, no new techniques they developed? Nothing?!

There's no better way to make it feel like the series meant nothing. Like it doesn't matter. Like it had no effect on anyone, like it was a blip in the earth's rotation everyone should just forget.

It just. It makes it feel like the story was a puppet theatre, everyone on strings to dance for the audience, and now the shows over and the wooden joints are revealed, get back to the box you came from, fresh paint on what you chipped, there see good as new. Don't do that again.

It's such a narrow minded happy ending. It comes out of nowhere, it means nothing, no the protagonist can't be part of the 'troubled' lot, the lgbt lot, the neurodivergent lot.

Back in the box, the story is over.

#storytelling #long post #Really long post whoops #I refuse to tag fandoms because I know I'll get arguing over the final pairings #I don't care about the parings! #Take your unrequited girl in class crush and go #Oh the protagonists kids are born with the immense and strange power the protagonist bled blood for #The protagonist is a neglectful parent who refuses to explain their past and now the kids are going to get up to hyjinks #Either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain in a nutshell #Percy Jackson did an absolutely fantastic job with post canon depictions I'll have you know #Be like RR lmao #We get to see an already established percabeth happy and safe and beginning to grow into their adult #Selves without forgetting or ignoring the things they've been through and done #Percy's reaction to apollo was hilarious

[prince--thomas]

In the Palm of My Hand ~~ [Self para]

One shot 2500 words. Tom on Levi’s wedding day

cw: brief, minor mentions of homophobia

“Knock, knock.”

“Da, you don’t have to say that if the door is open.” Levi turned on his heel towards Tom when he entered the room.

“Er, sorry. Right. Force of habit.” Tom chuckled dryly. It was something he’d always said before entering Levi’s room as a kid. At first, just because it was funny and made Levi laugh. Then, because he wanted to give his son some privacy. A heads up when his dad was about to enter his room.

There was a long pause.

Levi fiddled with his cufflinks. Tom fiddled with his. Neither of them spoke. That was probably Tom’s fault. He had never been someone who said a lot of things. Even when Levi was little. And, unfortunately, Levi took after Tom in this way. It wasn’t such a bad thing, Tom thought, except for in moments like this, when both of them were at a loss. The emotion in the room far too big for either of them to really…be able to acknowledge.

Tom shifted a little. From one foot to another.

Levi looked up at him expectantly.

“I was just—coming to see how you were doing,” Tom said, finally. He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his graying hair. The single streak had spread through the rest, leaving most of it the color of ash. His wife said it looked distinguished. Tom tried not to care.  

Levi’s lips twitched in a small smile. “Yeah, I figured.”

He didn’t say how he was. Tom wasn’t sure if he should ask. Maybe that would make things worse. Maybe it meant that he was fine and, therefore, had nothing to say.

Instead, Tom glanced around the room. It was a small chapel room, off the side of the Cathedral. It was small and a bit drafty. Cold and damp. Not exactly the place for festivities, in Tom’s opinion. Maybe it was good, though, to take a moment in a cold, drafty space before meeting the person who made you warm on the other side of the ceremony.

There was no one else there. Levi’s groomsmen had flocked off somewhere. Perhaps to join the bridesmaids before the walk up the aisle. Though, then again, they were doing some modern thing where everyone walked in on their own. Tom didn’t understand that, but there were also boys with the bridesmaids and girls with the groomsmen, not to mention everyone just sitting wherever they wanted in the crowd, so, at some point, he’d just stopped paying attention to what was going on. It was all too strange for him.

He didn’t mind, really. His son was his son. He was going to do what he wanted. That was something that Tom had given him. At least, it was something that he had tried to give him. The ability to speak his mind. And he’d certainly done so. On many colorful occasions as a teenager, specifically. But, ach, Tom could never be that mad at him, considering he wanted him to be the kind of person who stood up for what he believed in. Even if that meant saying no to Tom or Annie.

“Mama came by earlier.”

Tom’s gaze moved back to his son’s face. “Oh?”

“Yeah. She was blubbering. Talking about how when I was just a baby and stuff.” Levi twisted his ear. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up from Tom. Whenever he did it, Tom had a moment of remembering that his son was part of him. It sounded silly, but after all this time, it still felt like a little miracle to him.

“You want me to do that?”

Levi released his ear and straightened up some. He snorted. “No. Not really. Unless you have something about that to say?”

Tom thought about it. It was a good question. Was there anything from when Levi had been a baby that would prepare him for this moment? Or something that Tom had thought about…that would give Levi some comfort?

“I think it’s pretty fekkin weird,” Tom gruffed out eventually.

Levi laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine.”

“You used to be so small,” Tom said, before he could stop himself. He didn’t usually talk about things like this. Even saying it felt odd to him now, made his throat tight. It was such a simple, true statement. Once, Levi had been so small.

Once, he had fit along Tom’s forearm, his head in his hand. Once, he’d been small enough to fall asleep on Tom’s chest. Had been small enough to sit on his shoulders. Tom had, over the years, tried to remember the last time he had done these things, but it was impossible to know. Moments in your life, he had learned a long time ago, slipped away before you were ready all the time. Half the time, you didn’t even know they were slipping away because they were so normal. You thought they’d never be over. And they always ended. People grew up. Or they died. Or they turned to hating you. Or they simply moved away, lost contact, became a ghost in practice.

Growing up, you learned these things. Tom didn’t want for Levi too. It was a kind of ache that everyone felt, though, he supposed. Part of living. Maybe, one day, Levi would stand in this position with his son. And he’d remember when he stood there with his father. Tom was glad to give him this memory. He didn’t have one from his own wedding. Another thing that Tom thought, and felt grateful for, that he was here on his son’s wedding day. The way his own father wasn’t for his.

��Can’t believe this is my first wedding and I’m the groom,” Levi said, shaking his shoulders as if a shiver had just run up his spine.

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Eh? That can’t be true.”

“It is. I wasn’t in Harlynne’s wedding. And none of my friends have gotten married.”

“You were in my wedding,” Tom protested.

“Da. I was a baby. I don’t remember that.”

“You were there,” Tom insisted. “You were the ring bearer.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw the pictures. Mummy likes to pull them out whenever she can.”

Tom chuckled. That was true enough. “I am just sayin’, you’ve done some version of this before. Though—" Tom paused; his brow furrowed. “This looks not a damn thing like my wedding.”

Levi laughed at that. “Yeah. Uh, vibes are very different.”

“Yeah. The vibes.” Tom raised his eyebrows slightly.

There was another pause. Levi looked away shyly, fiddling again with his cufflinks. Tom wondered if he had put them on right. If he wanted help, but wasn’t going to ask for it. Levi wasn’t very good at that. He was constantly making Tom guess what he wanted. Though, his mum said that Tom was like that too. Sometimes, he didn’t even realize something was bothering him until she pointed it out.

Tom had to do that with Levi…except he wasn’t as perceptive as his wife. He never knew what the bloody hell was going on in his son’s head. You would think raising someone would give you a pretty good idea, but they changed so much. From day to day, from week to week, from hour to hour, sometimes, it seemed. They were different people. And, because they were behind you, and you were growing too, those pieces never quite seemed to click together. At least, not for Tom and Levi.

It wasn’t like they didn’t try.

They were just different.

Tom still loved his boy. His first boy. His eldest, but his baby all the same. The person who had made Tom a father. The greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

“Aye.”

Levi looked up on command. It was instinct, probably. Knowing his dad had something to say with just a word. Sometimes, Tom wondered if Levi knew him better than he knew his son.

“You know I’m just taking the mickey, eh?”

“I know.” Levi’s gaze darted towards the window. It was gray outside. Rain was splashing lightly against the windowpane. “Mummy said it’s good luck for it to rain on a wedding.”

“Well, I don’t know about any of that, but if she said it, it’s probably true.”

“You think?”

“Rain ain’t great out on the water. Bad omen. Sailors are notoriously superstitious, you know. But on a wedding? Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Levi nodded. He still wasn’t looking at Tom. “You’re okay with this right?”

Tom blinked. “Okay with what?”

“This. Me. Getting married.”

“What? ‘Course I am. Did someone say I’m not?”

Levi shook his head. He still wasn’t look at his father, but now he was looking at the tops of his shiny black shoes. He fiddled with his cufflinks again.

“Ach. Give me your damn hand.”

“What?” Levi’s shoulders jumped and his head snapped up, giving his father a startled look.

“Gimme your hand, boy.”

Levi held out one of his hands. Tom flipped it over, not exactly gently. He’d learned a lot about gentleness over the last twenty-four years, but there were something things that were in your bones.

“You put ‘em on backwards.”

“Oh.”

Tom unclipped the cufflink, fiddling with the small object.

“I’ve never put them on before.”

“You could’ve asked.” Tom glanced at his son again, searching his face. His freckles were bright against his pale skin. Tom couldn’t tell if it was just because he was so close, or because he was nervous.

Levi didn’t say anything, properly reprimanded.

They were quiet as Tom fixed his cufflink and then gestured for his other hand. Tom fixed that one too. He turned the little stars around thoughtfully with a thumb, sliding it over the thin skin of Levi’s wrist before dropping his hand.

“I just meant,” Levi continued from earlier with a little sigh, “I know this is all…really different for you. And I know how you feel about different.”

“I don’t feel any way about different,” Tom grunted, his own cheeks heating slightly.

Levi actually looked at him to give him a doubtful glance.

“I don’t feel any way about you being different,” Tom said. “Hell, the way the world is going—everyone’s bound to be different these days.”

“Da, you can’t say that. It’s homophobic.”

“What? I’m not sayin’ there is anything wrong with that.” He snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Is this why you wanted to see me? I told you when you got engaged, I didn’t give a fuck. Actually, I told you when you started dating.”

That was true enough. Tom had grown a lot in the last years. Had learned a lot and seen a lot. He wasn’t perfect. He didn’t always say the right thing. But he’d always meant what he said. He meant that he loved his son, no matter what. He’d love him through magic and mistakes and this too. The idea that he wouldn’t was frankly too bizarre to him to put into words.

What kind of father just stopped loving his son?

Not the kind of father that Tom could ever be. He loved Levi too much. Loved him since he’d been big enough to fit his head in the palm of his hand. The only thing that could change that is if Levi hated him first. And even then, Tom would love him. He’d always wondered about his mother.

If she had still loved him. Even at her funeral a year ago, he’d wondered. She’d been sick. He’d tried to go see her in the hospital, but she wouldn’t see him. His name hadn’t been on the list.

Tom couldn’t ever imagine taking Levi off the list.

“Listen,” Tom said, reaching out to grab his son’s shoulder. Then, he dragged his hand up to clap him on the other shoulder.

“Since you were a wee bairn, before I ever even held you in my arms all I ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy. I have spent the last twenty-four years making sure you were safe. I dunno how well I did with the happy part.”

Levi frowned a little and his lips parted, just the slightest, as if he was going to say something, but Tom shook his head.

“If that bloke out there makes you happy, then God bless. That’s all that matters to me. I promise. And—I’m sorry if you felt any other way about it. If you thought I felt any other way about it. I am proud of you. I love you.” Tom didn’t say those words much. Not to Levi. Not to his kids. He said it to his wife more on instinct than anything, because she said it to him first.

But when Levi was a baby—when he was small enough that he fit along Tom’s forearm, his head in his hand—Tom had told him he loved him all the time. He’d made sure that he knew it. Sometimes, the love had been so big that there wasn’t anything else for Tom to do but say it, unless he had wanted to cry. And yeah, he’d done that too, sometimes. It had subsided over the years. That raw, painful ache in his chest whenever he thought about Levi—about any of his children—but in this moment, thinking about how Levi might not know the acute pain of that affection, his eyes watered. His hand moved from his son’s shoulder to grip the back of his head, bowing it forward so their foreheads touched.

He moved back, kissing Levi’s forehead. Tom couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

Maybe that was the problem. Over these years, that love had grown comfortable. The longer Levi was happy, was safe, the less Tom had to worry about him. He was a proper adult now. With a job. With a family. At his age, Tom had just been a few years off from becoming a father. Tom looked at Levi and he saw a job well done.

But maybe, there was still work to do.

Levi didn’t know how to button cufflinks. There were other things, too. Tom had come over the weekend before last to help him and his fiancé build a desk. They’d been absolutely useless. Tom had wound up doing most of the work. There were still things for them. There was, more than anything, still time.

“You ready?” Tom asked, clapping Levi’s shoulders again and squeezing.

“I think so.”

Yeah, Tom thought so too. For both of them.

“Good.” He dropped his hands from around Levi’s shoulders.

“Da?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

Tom smiled, just a little. He hoped it was true. He felt like it was. Despite their differences—and their similarities too—Levi was still one of Tom’s favourite people in the whole world. Ever since he had been a baby, small enough to fit along is forearm; his head in the palm of Tom’s hand.

#swynlabors #self para #in the palm of my hand #i love my tom #he's my good boy #JUNIOR

[cocoabubbelle]

Watching “Scooby Doo, Where Are You?” (1969-1970 CBS) + Thoughts

Episode 18: Nowhere to Hyde

(Yes i know this is episode 1 of season 2, but it’s easier for me to keep track this way 😅)

New season, new episode, new opening scene for opening song!

Da heck new opening singer?!

Also alternate scenes in addition to the older ones.

We open into what looks like a city.

Animation for characters a lot cleaner.

Creepy Hyde is actually Spiderman!!

Of all the places for Hyde to hide *badum tiss!*, it’s the Mystery Van (shame on you guys for not locking your car)

For the first time since we’ve seen malt shops in this series, we see flavors of ice cream other than pink strawberry. 🍨

Reminder that the Scooby Gang is still in high school as the waiter asks about the high school magic show.

Shaggy can’t stay mad at Scooby no matter how many times the latter keeps swiping his food.

Other indicators that the gang has a life outside of solving mysteries: going home, looking forward to watching tv.

“I was a Teenaged Blob.” Possible homage to I was a Teenaged Werewolf? (Good movie, btw)

I wonder how long Hyde was planning on hiding in the van before Scooby accidentally discovered him.

How did they all split up running only to hide in the same place?

Is Daphne’s voice actress different??

“The back door is unlocked.” “This is gonna be easier than we thought—!” *cue trapdoor right underneath everyone.*

Dr. Jekyll arrives, confused to see the Scooby Gang in his laboratory-basement, and confused about the jewel Hyde stole that’s now in his hand. Riiiiiiiiiight…

Brawn Hilda I mean Maid Helga works for Jekyll.

I didn’t know spiderwebs could be played like harps.

Shaggy’s response to Scooby successfully scaring him with a monster ape mask? “Don’t take it off, you look better with it on!” “D:<”

I just noticed that even Shaggy’s goatee is better designed.

Cue Trying-to-open-a-door-only-to-find-another-door-and-another-door-and-another-door-and-another-door-and-another-door-and-then-a-mouse-door-with-a-disgruntled-mouse gag

Helga annoyed that Shaggy and Scooby messed up the attic after she finished cleaning it. Just when I am wondering how the messy attic looked like before she “cleaned” it, Shaggy goes and says it for me.

Maid Helga used to be an acrobat and trapeze artist. Potential Suspect, anyone?

I—! How did Shaggy and Scooby hide INSIDE the Television and managed to don various outfits and make up in a split second? Shenanigans, that’s what.

“I wonder what’s happened to Shag and Scoob? I haven’t heard a peep out of them—!” *cue incoming screaming*

Hyde’s outfit + Helga’s feather duster. Evidence, or is she being framed?

Shaggy finds more evidence in a fruit bowl, but Hyde nabs him before he can reveal it.

There is no way Hyde can pour chemicals in that jar that cleanly with how much he’s shaking with laughter.

I just realized that this might be the first episode where there is an extended chase scene theme song.

First episode with characters going in and out of doors chase scene!

Angry Alligator.

Turns out Shaggy found suction cups in the fruit bowl.

Trap time?

Hyde is freaked out by multiple hydes.

I KNEW it was Dr. Jekyll!

Day 18 of no “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids!” Seriously, Show?

#hanna barbera #scooby #scooby doo where are you #scooby dooby doo where are you #scooby doo #shaggy and scooby #shaggy rogers #shaggy norville rogers #norville shaggy rogers #daphne blake #velma dinkley

[queenclaudiabrown]

Ocean Eyes | VI: Under The Sea

VI: Chapter Six: Under The Sea

Chapter content warnings: Leek being shifty, Caroline being shifty, Stephen being a little shit and overly stressed out about Nick and Abby, Emily angst/whump, light discussion of domestic abuse, some recap of the prologue's events, mentions of divorce, hints at prior trauma, some cussing but s0m3 l3tt3r$ #r3 d¡ff3r3nt, I think that's it

Word count: 6,762

One month later:

    In Claudia Brown’s highly qualified opinion, Dr. Oliver Leek was a greasy, oily, slick man, and she didn’t like him one bit.  He smiled charmingly, innocently- a little too innocently- and dressed professionally in a suit.  There was nothing actually suspicious about him, and that was why Claudia found him so suspicious.  The doctor of Anthropology had no criminal record barring one speeding ticket- one kilometer over the speed limit when he was a teenager-, straight A’s through school and university, no loans or debts, and a generally perfect reputation.

     Claudia knew that was nigh impossible, unless the records had been faked or the person was going to get in a lot of trouble for anything less than stellar behavior.  But that was highly unlikely, and no one who fell into either of those categories would be staying at an inn like hers.

     But she quite literally had no reason to deny him a room, or interrogate him.  So she closed the tabs on her computer, thanked Connor for digging up his past, and resolved herself to an open-minded- but watchful- silence.

     She knew it was probably unhealthy- for both of them- to dump all her problems on the friendly merman that had once saved her life, but hey, therapy is expensive, and it’s not like he ever had a problem with listening.  He always made her feel better and helped her deal with her problems.  Unlike most people, he listened, and only if she wanted his advice did he give it.  He was a real treasure, to her.

     As she arrived on the dock where she and Nick usually met, she was surprised to see Stephen- partly because he was there as well, and partly because his entire humanoid upper body was out of the water, not just from the shoulders up.  Jenny had told her about his heroic act in saving Sarah, which was the most any human or hybrid had seen of him in a while.  Maybe he was warming up to them.

     “…don’t think he was very happy with me when I went to give a report.”  Stephen was saying.  “What if he sends the army?  I don’t want anything to happen to these people.”

     “Are you feeling alright, Stephen?  ’Cause for a minute it sounded like you cared about humans.”  Nick’s voice was teasing.  There was a silence and Claudia could just make out an annoyed deadpan look on Stephen’s face.  Serious now, Nick continued, “No, you’re right.  We need to be careful.  Let me think; go ask Abby what she says.  Let’s not be too hasty.  Maybe we can work something out.”

     Stephen nodded.  He shook Nick’s hand and clapped him on the back, then cast a glance between Nick and the approaching Claudia.  A whisper of a knowing smirk ghosted across his mouth and he muttered something to the blond.

Without letting his friend respond, Stephen plunged downward beneath the surface, vanishing with a quiet splash.  Nick turned to see Claudia, apparently having sensed her coming, and smiled, his face lit up like twenty suns.  “Claudia Brown.”  He greeted.

     “Is it nosy if I ask what that was all about?”  She asked, coming to stand in front of him.

     “Just talking about Atlantis stuff.”  He returned evasively.  “Would you like to sit down?”  He propelled himself backward a little bit to give her legs room to hang off the dock.

     She sat down, taking off her sandals and setting them down on the dock beside her.  “There’s someone new staying at the Inn, and… have you ever heard the phrase ‘too good to be true’?”

     Not interested in hearing about human drama (and who can blame him?), Stephen descended deeper under the water,

About ninety-six days ago:

     Stephen wasn’t really sure why he’d agreed to this.

     Well, if he thought hard about it, he’d probably realize that it was because Nick and Abigail’s collective whining complaining talking about how they never got to go anywhere anymore had worn him down.  He hadn’t meant to keep his best friend and said best friend’s cousin so sheltered that he’d stifled and suffocated them.  He hated the thought of it.

     So here they were, swimming through the waters just off the eastern shore of Cornwall, England.  He was especially leery to be close to England, but the place he was determined to avoid more was St. Margaret’s at Cliffe, between Dover and Deal.  If either of them even suggested going up in that region, he was wrapping them both in the net he kept tied around his waist and dragging them back to Atlantis.

     Thankfully, Nick had been rather obsessed by a group of humans that lived near the shore in the Torquay area, resulting in them lingering in the same area for about six months.

     There was a storm on the surface.  They could all feel it, but it wouldn’t be a problem.  Even if it was a thunderstorm, lightning striking the water wouldn’t hurt them.

     But on the surface many meters above, a yacht and its occupants might not be so lucky.

     The trio watched with interest, far below, as the boat tipped and leaned from side to side.  Waves, higher every time, battered the boat, until at last one truly massive one struck, and the yacht capsized.  Four people were flung into the water.

     Nick, with Abby right behind, made for the surface to assist, but Stephen cut in front of them.  “We can’t just leave them to die.”  Nick argued.

     “I’m not saying we should.”  His friend returned sharply.  “Give them a chance.  If there’s no way they can survive without our help, then we’ll help them.  If they can get to the surface and stay there without us, then we don’t need to expose ourselves.”

     They didn’t like that, but they complied.  Stephen turned to face the surface again and realized with a sinking feeling (no pun intended) that the humans would not survive without interference.  Despite their valiant struggles, the humans were disadvantaged by the storm-tossed water and their clothing, and that they were designed to live chiefly on land, not in the sea.

     So without further hesitation, Stephen led his friends toward the surface.

     To their utter shock, one of the men that had fallen into the water underwent a startling change.  The garment he wore on his legs shredded away and his legs tore apart, weaving back together to form… a tail?

     So, he was a merman.

     Stephen would have guessed him to definitely be in the frame, but some humans were quite tall, and the man wasn’t as tall as most mermen in their human form would be.  Maybe he was half-merman?

     It didn’t matter, in the end; he took hold of the human nearest to him (definitely a human, as he was a reasonable size and hadn’t developed a tail) and swam across the surface quite easily despite his passenger.

     Two down, two (and an overturned yacht) to go.

     Abigail and Nick, in spite of their distrust of humanity, quickly split off to deal with the remaining humans.  It ended up working out for the best- Stephen was the largest and strongest, and with his net he could drag the yacht back to the coastline.  So he untied the net from around his waist and unrolled it with a flick of his wrist. 

     On her way toward the flailing male human, Abigail hooked two fingers around part of the net and swam around the opposite side of the boat, nearly grazing the man in passing.  She tossed the end of the net back toward Stephen on the return trip, enabling him to encompass enough of the yacht in his net.

     With a strong pulse of his tail, and pulling with all his might, Stephen propelled himself backward through the rough briny, and brought the boat with him.  The water fought and the wind fought, but Stephen was stronger.

     After passing off the end of the net to Stephen, Abigail swam back toward the man she had brushed by moments before.  He was nearly unconscious, to weak and exhausted to move his limbs and nearly too weak and exhausted to keep his eyes open.  So Abigail clamped one strong arm around his midriff, and moved the other and her tail in powerful strokes, ascending to the surface where he could breathe.

     Meanwhile, Nick was rescuing the fourth person to fall in the water.  It was a woman, he realized as he got closer.  She had had the good sense to shed her shoes- what a constricting prospect- and some of her clothes so they wouldn’t weigh her down, but she was still too far from the surface to survive.  He moved closer, forced to angle his path downward as she sank.  As he swam in front of her, he was entranced by her beauty and the determination on her angelic features even as she began to slip out of consciousness.  However, said angelic features were familiar- this was the woman he had been watching for some time, much to Stephen’s consternation.

     Finally reaching her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her form against his own, paddling one-handed upward.  Once he had momentum behind him, he switched to using only his tail for propulsion and slipped his other arm under her knees, hoping this way he would avoid crushing her ribcage or spine.

     Carrying her like the princess Nick felt she was, he breached the choppy surface and held her protectively cradled to his chest above the water, mindful to keep her head especially out of the water.  Swimming backward ended up being the easiest way to accomplish this and still get her back to the dock near her home, where Stephen was bringing the yacht.

     Having reached the dock from whence the yacht came, Stephen collected his net, then wrapped it around the mast and swam toward the surface at full speed.  He arced out of the sea with enough force to pull on the yacht’s mast- which thankfully didn’t break- and turn the yacht back right-side-up.  Still midair and quickly falling back toward the ocean, he flicked his tail and managed to wrench his body in a slightly different direction, his grip on the net as he went down ensuring that the boat completely righted itself.

     Well, that had been easier than the time he saved a whale, and less terrifying than the time he had wrestled a particularly large sea snake away from Nick- driven purely by panic and adrenaline before his phobia had kicked in and he’d called for Abigail’s help.  She had only teased him about it for a minute, and Nick, still blissfully unaware and asleep, never knew.

     Speaking of Nick, the merman in question had nearly arrived at the dock, still carrying the woman.  When his back touched the dock’s edge, he turned in the water and gently laid her on its surface before casting a glance around.  Stephen and Abigail appeared to be loading an unconscious man onto the yacht- not entirely safe with the boat untethered.  So he reluctantly left the woman behind on the dock and dove back underwater, collecting the ship’s anchor and securing it before returning to her.  He climbed onto the dock, fearing for her safety.  What if, between the wind and the waves, she came to harm?  He couldn’t let that happen.  Yet he had no way to bring her to the inn that she lived in- he couldn’t switch to legs with the torrential downpour bearing down on him, and even if he could, there was no guarantee he could get her there safely, given his inexperience with legs and the powerful gales that were screaming all around them, tearing boughs from the trees on the inn’s property.  So he steeled himself and carefully maneuvered his tail to protect her legs as best that it could, and settling most his weight onto his forearms he hovered over her, shielding her body with his own.

     Abigail, with the unconscious young man on her back and his face just clear of the surface, spotted Stephen when he came crashing back down into the briny following his rather impressive feat of overturning the boat.  Their eyes met and she beckoned with her head, indicating he should come assist her.  She swam to the side of the yacht and held her passenger up over her head and above the water.  Stephen poked his head up beside her.  “Something wrong?”

     “No, I just need your help.  I want to get him onto the boat, but I can’t get myself and him both up there without hurting him.”  She explained.

     He nodded.  “Of course.”  He took the man from her and put him over one shoulder, and once she had used her tail to ‘jump’ out of the water, he put out his free hand and planted it on the bent underside of the equivalent of her knees, shoving her upward for an extra boost.  Her hands caught and gripped the top rail firmly, and she heaved the rest of her nearly seven-foot self over it, landing heavily with splash.

     Stephen grasped the highest railing bar he could reach and bent his arm, pulling himself upward.  He then used his other arm to heave the unconscious man over the railing, who Abigail then caught and placed on the deck.

     He pulled himself up a little higher, using both arms this time, and peered at Abigail over the railing.  “Need help getting back over?”

     She frowned, biting her lip.  “Shouldn’t someone stay and make sure he’s alright?  He can’t be more than just a lad.”

     He hesitated.  “Are you certain?”

     She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at his overcautiousness.  “Yes, Stephen.  I’ll be fine.”  She twitched her tail in the water still on the yacht’s deck.  “I’ll splash him if he tries anything.”

     And if that failed, Stephen would stake his life on her ability- and willingness- to tear the human apart with her bare hands.  He almost pitied the poor human should he try something.

     So he put up his hands in surrender.  “Alright, alright.  I’ll catch you up- I’ve got to see to the other two.”

     “Why would one of us choose to live on land?”  She questioned, knowing he didn’t have the answers.  “And why would he care so much for a human?”

     Stephen shrugged, as confused as she was.  “Maybe…Maybe he’s only half-merman.  He’s tall for a lander, but not as long as one of us.  Princess Jessica is one of the smallest among us, and she’s nearly as long as he was.  But maybe there’s another explanation- I can’t imagine why one of us would want to procreate with a human, or simply couple with them if reproducing wasn’t the goal.”  He certainly wouldn’t.  Not unless there was a much bigger reason than reproduction or personal pleasure.

     Stephen bid Abigail a reluctant goodbye and swam away, following the coastline in search of the (half?-)merman and the human he’d taken with him.  He found them tucked into a little inlet, hidden behind a massive rock that filled part of said inlet and under the measly overhang of a tree on the clifftop.  There wasn’t much better outdoor shelter from the storm, at least not within safe distance.

     The merman had shed the clothes on his upper half as well and was holding them to shield the face and head of the human, who he was trying to keep conscious.  When the frantic repetitions of the human’s name- ‘Patrick’, apparently- failed, Stephen watched with only his eyes above the water as the merman wincingly slapped Patrick across the face.

     To the merman’s credit, Patrick reacted to this, jerking in the other’s one-armed hold against the rock.  “Danny?”  He queried in audible confusion.

     “You can’t fall asleep, Patrick.”  ‘Danny’ told him worriedly, but firmly.  It was a tone Stephen recognized all too well, the same tone he usually spoke to/chastised Nick with.  “You’re freezing, and I can’t get you out of the wet any more than I have.  You could get hypothermia or pneumonia, and we both know your lungs aren’t all that strong.  I’m not losing you.”

     Patrick groaned.  “You should try to make it up the rocks.  You’re strong, and it’s not far.  Get the Coast Guard or something.  I’ll be fine, but you might not be.”   

     Stephen popped up the rest of his head and his shoulders above the water.  “Actually, he’ll be fine.  He’s built to live in the cold water- he can’t get hypothermia, or any kind of illness, from this, being a merman and all.  Or is it half-merman?  You’re a bit small for even the females of our kind.”

     Danny glowered at him, eyes narrowed and jaw set.  Stephen didn’t flinch, “What’s he talking about, Dan?”  Patrick questioned, visibly fighting to keep his eyes open.

     “I’ll tell you later, Pat.”  Danny replied firmly,

     “Here’s another idea: why don’t you explain now, so I’ll have something to focus on to keep me awake?”  Patrick suggested, a little snarkily.

     Hiding a smirk, Stephen dipped back under the water to eavesdrop from beneath the waves.  That would be an interesting conversation- one that he felt he needed to hear, but didn’t want to openly intrude on.

     It proved to be worth the subterfuge.

Present day:

     Sometimes people asked Emily why she kept the surname of her abuser.  In truth, she hated to, but the name ‘Merchant’ opened doors and afforded courtesies that the name ‘Brown’ did not.  Sometimes it was because she had the surname of a wealthy political family, sometimes it was because people recognized the name and gave her what she wanted out of pity, or were at least kinder and gentler about letting her down.

     It was devious, but it worked.

     But all the money and title and pity in the world couldn’t fix what was broken in her.

     She hated the mark he’d left on her.  Men tended to make her uncomfortable, especially if they were taller than her (or were angry).  Shouting- especially men’s shouting- had her flinching all the way down the street.  Sometimes even shouting on the telly would have her jump in her seat.  A hand raised the wrong way would make her duck her head, eyes brimming with tears. 

     People like Henry made her stomach churn and her skin crawl and put a bad taste in her mouth, reminding her that as sweet and wonderful and marvelous as humans could be, like her cousins, there were plenty of horrible, abominable monsters in human skin, with human eyes and human hands and human words.

     Her family, God bless them, had picked up on the things that reminded her of him and did their best to avoid doing them, and not doing those things had become habit, instinct even.  When she had finally been able to reconnect with Charlotte after two years of not being allowed to contact her, she had been privately informed by Becker and Connor so that she would be aware.  Charlotte had never slipped once.  Emily felt a little guilty for the lengths they went to to avoid upsetting her, but she would have done the same thing for any of them. 

     As time went on and she went longer and longer in the presence of her loving family and friends and not in his, the better she got, and the more the pain diminished, and the easier it became to smile and laugh and relax.

     She just wished she could fall in love.

     Her divorce had only been finalized a couple months ago, although he had been in prison for three years, and the trial had been six months.  But in all that time she had never thought about one day dating again.  The idea of that seemed so terrifying to her.  She knew it was highly improbable that she’d go from one abusive, controlling man to another, but that fear gripped her tightly.  In the early days, when someone in the press- like that abominable Mick Harper- would push the matter of dating, it usually drove her into a panic attack.  Her family had been even more intimidating and effective press-repellent than her security; despite her head being ducked down she had clearly heard Claudia and Jenny’s yelling (largely threats of suing) and Becker’s booming shouts as he physically cleared a path for Connor and the women (including Charlotte and Sarah) to guide her through.  Patrick hadn’t been there that day; in fact, by some irony, despite them both frequently being at her side throughout the whole ordeal once she’d run away from Henry, he and Charlotte had never met before staying at the inn.

     Emily still remembered, clear as day, when she finally ran away from Henry.

Almost four years ago:

     Emily was done with it.

     Bruised and battered from last night’s events at the hands of a drunk and irritated Henry, she had finally woken on the bathroom floor sometime around noon.  She got to her feet with only a small wince, an unpleasant testament to how terribly he had mistreated her for her to be accustomed to the pain he regularly put her through.

     It was that thought that had stopped her in her tracks as she had padded toward the shower to clean up.  Instead of continuing, she went out into the main bedroom- so grand and large and ornate, a gilded cage- and tried the door.  Locked, of course, cutting her off from escape (and food) and leaving her implying she needed to look presentable for his return instead of wandering her prison.

     She crossed the room, paying her discomfort no heed, and threw open the heavy burgundy curtains over the sliding balcony doors.  Light poured into the room, filtered through the branches of the tree just outside the balcony.

     For the first time in six years, Emily smiled.

    The balcony doors were also locked and the keys missing, so she picked up an armchair and smashed one of the giant panes.  Quickly she went out on the balcony (heedless of the cuts on her soles; so focused on escaping, she had forgotten to put on shoes or better clothes than her nightgown, but she wasn’t going back inside) and carefully climbed onto the railing, reaching forward toward the nearest branch.  She tested its strength with a few strong tugs, then tightened her grip and kicked off the railing.  Thankfully, given the location of the tree and branch, where she had placed her hands was just a few inches from the tree’s bole, so she was easily able to get herself into a better position on the tree and begin climbing down.

     Bare feet hit the ground and she sprinted across the lawn toward the estate’s black iron fence.  She didn’t stop or even slow down or hesitate as she reached it, putting her momentum to use and jumping at the fence.  It didn’t vault her over the top, but it got her a fair distance up the three-meter fence, and with white knuckles and careful feet she scaled her way to the top.

     She tore her nightgown when she went over the top, but Emily didn’t stop moving, running for the road.  Every step she took away from her prison seemed to lift weight off her chest and shoulders.  The fresh air had never smelled so sweet.  The freedom was intoxicating.

     On the road, she ran toward the nearest area she knew had a police station- Roehampton, southwest of main London- until a kind and concerned passer-by offered her a ride.  She thanked the woman, Lorraine Wickes, with the diamond post earrings she had forgotten to take out, and with her head held high, shoulder squared, and a confident gait she strode into the police station.

     It was Police Constable Danny Quinn that she ended up speaking with, and she poured out her story to him.  He was sympathetic and horrified, and he briefly excused himself under the pretense of getting her water with tears in his eyes.  He came back with a cup of water, and red eyes.

     Emily didn’t like being pitied, but she appreciated that he was sympathetic and believed her.  Most people, she knew, would take Henry’s side due to his social status and gender, but not Danny Quinn.

     When she had finished giving her statement, Danny walked her from the interrogation room they’d been in to another room where she would be photographed for evidence and have her injuries seen to.  But on the way, as they passed the cells, she was surprised to hear Connor’s voice, and curiosity got the better of her.

     Looking around the corner, she was stunned by the sight of Connor tightly hugging Jenny.  “…I’ve been going stir-crazy in there.”  He was saying as a policewoman closed a cell door behind him.

     “Connor, you’ve only been there for a few hours.”  Jenny told him once he’d let go, annoyance and amusement warring on her face.

     “Alright, so I’m not Nelson Mandela.  Doesn’t mean I haven’t suffered, does it?”

     Before Emily could speak up, having come to the realization that Connor had been arrested for some reason and Jenny was there to bail him out, Quinn spoke up.  “Oi.  What the h3ll do you think you’re doing?”  He demanded, seeming almost incredulous.

     “Ah, Detective Constable Quinn.”  Jenny’s biting tone suggested they’d met before under less-than-pleasant circumstances.  “I’ve come to retrieve my cousin.  You’d be well-advised to stay out of my way.”

     Her eyes glanced to Emily, and then she did a double-take just as recognition flared in Connor’s eyes and he opened his mouth. “Emily?  What’re you doing here?”  He questioned.

     “You ran away.”  Jenny realized.  The corners of her mouth twitched upward ever-so-slightly in a whisper of a proud smile.  “You finally did it.  I’m surprised it took you so long, but I’m so glad you did.”  She stepped forward and (mindful of her visible injuries) enveloped her in a tender hug.

     “Someone wanna explain what’s going on?”  Danny queried.

     “She’s our cousin.”  Connor told him, sounding a little confused himself.  “Emily…did- did someone break into your house or something?  Is that why you’re hurt?”

     Emily withdrew from Jenny’s hug as her body reverted to its instincts, shrinking into herself and wrapping her arms around herself as her head ducked down, making herself smaller out of fear and shame.  “Er, no.  Henry…” she took a deep breath (it had been easier to say it to a stranger, someone she didn’t love, someone she hadn’t lied to) “…Henry did this.  I ran away, and I’m pressing charges and filing for divorce.”  In an effort to keep from breaking down, she swallowed and turned to Danny.  “And I’m paying Connor’s bail.  How much is it, DC Quinn?  Until I’ve successfully divorced Henry, I have access to his capital.  It’s more than substantial enough to cover it, I’m sure.”

     Danny was feeling rather painted into a corner, so he acquiesced with a sigh.  “Three hundred pounds.  Are you sure you want to do this?”

     She nodded firmly.  “He’s family.”

     Sighing again, he nodded.  “Alright, you three come with me and we’ll get that handled.”

     She met Patrick Quinn a few hours later when Danny called him in to be with her.  He was nothing but kind to her, nipping out to a shop to pick her up clothes while her pictures were taken and her injuries tended.  He brought her food and drinks (a few smuggled-in alcohol), made a list of the few things she wanted retrieved from the Merchant mansion for when it would be allowed, and physically stood between her and Henry when his elder brother marched her handcuffed and seething husband in, one hand reaching behind him to hold hers in a comforting grip. 

      Jenny and Connor had stayed to support her and rang her parents, Claudia, Becker, and Charlotte.  Claudia had been the only one to arrive by the time Henry was brought in, and she and her sister and Connor had joined Patrick in the human-shielding of Emily.  Every fiber in her being had screamed for her to duck her head, avert her eyes, slouch and apologize.  But she kept her spine straight and her shoulders squared, head held high and eyes locked stubbornly with his blue ones.  His blazed coldly, but the fire of her spirit burning in her own made his rage pale in comparison.

     Becker arrived a few minutes later, bursting into the room where the family and Patrick were sitting.  Emily’s bandaged feet were propped up on the table as she chowed down contentedly on the curry Patrick had generously bought for them all, careful to avoid dropping any on her new white blouse and blue jeans.

     “Where is he?”  Becker demanded.  “Where is the ratty little bΔstΔrd?  I told him if he ever so much as upset you I’d make him regret it.  To h3ll with that now; I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.”  The rage coming off him was almost tangible.

     Ordinarily, no one would’ve complained if Becker beat Henry into an unrecognizable, pitiful pulp, but Emily was done with drama and already dreading court, and she didn’t want her cousin to suffer the legal consequences of defending her honor.

     So she sighed.  “You can’t thrash him, Becker, as much as we’d all like to let you.  Sit down, have some curry.  We ordered for you since you hadn’t gotten here yet.”  She gestured to an unopened box.

     Simmering and seething, Becker reluctantly closed the door and moved across the room toward Emily.  He knelt down in front of her as she quickly put her food aside and sat properly in the chair in anticipation.  Gentle as a feather, he placed one hand on her arm and the other across her back on her other shoulder, drawing into a tender side hug and pressing a kiss to the side of her head.  “Are you okay?”

     Emily let out a breath.  “I’m the closest I’ve been to ‘okay’ in six years.  I’ll tell you when I really am.  Deal?”

     “Deal.”  He agreed, pulling her against his chest for a moment before releasing her in fear of hurting her.  He took a seat and dug into his curry.  “Where’s Charlotte?”

     “Delayed in Leeds.  Her flight had a layover.  She’ll be here in a few hours.”  Emily replied.  “In all the years I’ve known her- eleven years, Becks- she’s never once cursed.  Never so much as a ‘bloody’.  I told her what happened- abridged, of course, I’m sick of talking about it and there’s still the trial to come- and she sounded positively Scottish.”

     He nodded, smirking, but sobered after a moment.  “And…your parents?  When are they coming?”

     The whole room descended into an uncomfortable silence.  “It went to answerphone.  All five times.  I’m not sure they believed me, if they even bothered to listen to my messages.  They’ll probably come back from wherever they are when the press starts covering it.”  Emily’s voice was deceptively casual, holding back tears.

     At that moment, Danny opened the door.  “He wants to talk to you.  You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

     “I don’t want to see him ever again for the rest of my life.  I’ll put my feelings aside for court, to put him away and divorce him, but outside of that I want no contact.”

     Danny nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face.  “I’m glad to hear it.”

Present day:

     Emily lay on her bed on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, surveying her various forms of identification, all of which (save her birth certificate and General Certificate of Education) bore the surname ‘Merchant’.  Her birth certificate and GCE listed her as ‘Emily Ruth Brown’.

     She decided she liked that better.

     She put all the ones with her married name into the envelope that she kept her engagement and wedding rings in, then pulled out her mobile and dialed her lawyer’s number.  “Mr. Haines?  I had a question- should I go to you or Mr. Hodges to change my surname?”    

     Out of sight of the inn, Nick and Claudia sat together in the shallow water bordering an upward-sloping sandy beach.  The angle of it was ideal- it meant they could recline together without laying flat while still being in enough water to keep Nick hydrated but not so much it was unhealthy for Claudia.  It had taken a while and a lot of trial and error for them to find the ideal beach spot, since Claudia had gotten sunburns and splinters and a sore neck more than once sitting on the dock.

     So that’s where they were now- Claudia with her back to Nick’s chest, his head on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her lovingly.  Anyone could see how they felt about each other, and when one was mentioned to the other they’d get all giddy and blushing and deny deep feelings but think about the other for the next several hours.

     There were bets going on when they’d finally admit their feelings.

     Stephen had three dozen fish on it.

     Nick’s fingers played with the end of Claudia’s braid and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.  “I wish I could take you with me when I go underwater.”  He murmured.  “There’s so much I’d like to show you.  Is there any machine made by your people that show you?”

     Claudia frowned adorably in thought.  “I could ask Becker if he could get ahold of a mini submarine.  I think they have cameras on them, so maybe that would work.”

     “That sounds good.  It won’t be the same as having you down there with me, but there are places that you simply can’t go; caverns and crevices too deep and far that you could never reach, and if I were to show you Atlantis, King Lester has a strict no-humans policy, although it’s difficult to get there if you’re not Atlantean.  Stephen and I are on good terms with the princess and eldest prince, though, so we might be able to get a machine inside.”

      Claudia nodded.  “You can be persuasive when you want to be.  I know I can’t say no to you.”  He chuckled.  “Tell me more about this King Lester and his children?”

     “Well, Lester’s been on the throne for forty-one years.  He’s nearly eighty years old.  But he looks about as old as he was when he took the throne; about thirty-five or thirty-six.”

     “Wow.”

     “We age pretty slowly.  Between the salt water and lack of sunlight, our skin doesn’t age the way human skin does, and we have access to things under the sea that humans don’t.  If we live in the water our whole lives, we can live to be a little over a hundred.”  He pressed a kiss to her head.  “I won’t, though.  I’ve been on land long enough, even before I met you, that it’s shortened my lifespan a bit.  And I’m not from the royal family, so I already wouldn’t have lived that long.”

     “The royal family lives longer?”

     “Mm, and they’re larger too.  The legends say that they’re direct descendants of Poseidon, although no one’s quite sure if Poseidon- or Neptune, his brother, the supposed father of all other merfolk- ever existed in the first place.  It’s something of a fairytale.  Either way, only those said to be descended from Poseidon can take the throne, and they have a slightly longer lifespan.”

     “Makes sense.”  Claudia agreed.

     “Aye, it does.  Lester’s wife, Linda, died several years ago.  Tragic accident, and the whole kingdom mourned for her.  Still, Lester soldiers on, and all his children were old enough to remember her, so that’s a blessing.  His firstborn and heir is Ryan.  He’s pretty stoic, but smarter than anyone gives him credit for, and he’s the captain of Atlantis’ army.  He’ll make a good king.  His brother Matthew is five years younger.  He enjoys caring for plant life in the kingdom, very knowledgeable about plant medicine.  The youngest is Princess Jessica, who’s over ten years younger than Matthew.  She reminds me a bit of you and Connor both.  She’s very cheerful and sweet, so much so that some have nicknamed her ‘The Sun of Atlantis’.  Her mind works faster than anyone’s, and she’s very observant, watchful.  She’s very close to her father, and God help you if you upset her; you’ll have her entire family and the whole bloody kingdom out for your blood.”

     Claudia laughed.  “She sounds wonderful.  I wish I could meet her.”

     “Well, maybe one day you will.  King Lester will be interested in whether or not Danny’s father was Atlantean or Neptunian.  If he’s Atlantean, that puts him and his brother under our protection, and maybe your sister Jenny too, if they’re serious about each other.  Then, since Abigail and Stephen and I are Atlantean, there’s the question of who falls under protections from our…” he paused, searching for the right word to classify the relationships.  “…closeness.”

     Claudia hummed contently at his word choice.  “As long as not having protection doesn’t jeopardize our…closeness.”

     “Never.”  He told her, and she believed him.

Two weeks later:

     It was remarkable, Claudia noticed, how similar Oliver Leek and Caroline Steel were.  Both were smooth, cultured, polite, and had clean records.  Caroline’s had a few juvenile misdemeanors- mostly tickets and DWIs- but nothing that screamed that she was a danger to be around.  However, she was giving off a ‘spoiled rich girl’ vibe that made Claudia’s teeth clench.  She’d known women like her in school and university, but her uni friends/roommates Kat and Rachel had always been there to back her up and give those women crap.

     Of course, Mr. Leek hadn’t done anything that truly warranted suspicion- he was very quiet, kept to himself, ate out most of the time, had a lot of ‘errands’ and ‘meetings’, and usually only was at the inn to sleep and shower.  But Claudia didn’t trust him, nor did most of her family, although Jenny didn’t seen to mind him too much, but maybe she was keeping her suspicions to herself.  Claudia’s instincts had never failed her, though; she’d ended up being right about Henry, after all.

     Claudia shook her head to clear it.  It simply wouldn’t do to keep seeing monsters where people with spotless reputations and classy manners were.  But try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Mr. Leek and Ms. Steel.

     And it was indeed.

     Becker watched with narrowed eyes as the curly-haired woman sat basically on his half-brother’s lap, smothering him with copious amounts of saccharine attention and affection.  The woman had not been on Inn property for an entire day yet and she was acting like she and Connor were in their honeymoon phase.  Connor, bless his heart, was too sweet to push her away or tell her to cut it out, but he was also too naïve to realize that there was no way that this was genuine.

     Becker turned away silently, shaking his head.  There was nothing he could do for Connor without coming across the wrong way.  And besides, who knows?  Maybe Caroline Steel had no ulterior motives.

     Unfortunately, she did.

     That evening, she went for an ‘after-dinner stroll’ around the property, meandering about until she could no longer be seen from the inn’s windows.  Then she headed over to the street, where Oliver Leek’s car was parked.  She opened the passenger-side door and got inside.

     “Your payment.”  Leek said, handing over a thick stack of cash.  “I think you’ll find it’s all there.”

     She turned on the overhead light and flipped through the money, checking for placeholding slips of paper.  “So far that little creep Connor doesn’t suspect a thing.  I got quite an eye from his brother, though.”

     “Did he confront you?”  Leek queried.  She shook her head.  “Good.  Be careful.  Make nice with the rest of his family.”  He cast a glance down at her manicured hands.  “Get your hands dirty, if you have to.  Try to find the merman called Stephen.  If you can’t befriend or seduce him, just keep tabs on him.  You remember everything else we talked about?”

     Caroline nodded.  “Good.  Now you ought to be heading back, or else Connor will miss you.”  He told her mockingly.

     She rolled her eyes and opened the car door, stepping out.  “I’ll be in touch.”  She said before closing the door and walking away. 

Dividers are used with permission by their creator, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Author’s note: According to this the merfolk could probably survive lightning strikes in the water.  Since this is somewhere between fantasy and sci-fi, even if in reality humans couldn’t survive, the merfolk could.  Also, I’ve emphasized it with Stephen (partly since he’s the largest of the current cast of merfolk), but all merfolk (males and females) are quite muscular, in an athletic way.  Since they can spend their entire lives underwater if they choose to and are incredibly fast swimmers, I figured they would all be pretty buff.  For Abby and any other mermaids that may or may not appear, think like Allyssa Beird on American Ninja Warrior.

Second Author’s Note: 97 is the exact number of days (give or take 1 or 2) since the beginning of the prologue; Eyes of Blue was the day after the prologue, ch.3 was three days later, ch.4 was two days after that, and then there’s a two-month jump (60/61 days), and another month.

Also please don’t forget to check out the aesthetics masterlist for this book; I’ve uploaded several new ones and added to some of the existing ones.

Nick and Stephen being on good terms with Prince Ryan and Princess Jess is a reference to both canon and @witchofthemidlands ’s post on what S4/5 characters Nick and Stephen would get along with. 

And finally, the names of Claudia’s uni friends are a reference to something I’ve discussed with one of my mutuals, although it was originally for a different story. 😉

#nick cutter #stephen hart #connor temple #claudia brown #danny quinn #patrick quinn #ethan dobrowski #abby maitland #becker #captain becker #captain hilary james becker #james lester #captain ryan #captain tom ryan #jess parker #matt anderson #oliver leek #henry merchant #emily merchant #mermaid #mermaids #merman #mermen #merfolk #atlantis #mermay #mermay 2022 #mutuals #ocean eyes

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

The Professor

Eighteen-year-old Agnes learns not use to LB2 as a healer and is told inns are expensive by the three experienced adventurers she travels with...some of those lessons stick and others don’t. This was a prompt from The Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club.  SFW.

“Preparing to limit break!” Neila shouted as the boss of the current dungeon she and her party were fighting was on its last legs. “What the…?”

“HEALS FOR EVERYONE!” Eighteen-year-old Agnes Currai yelled, white light enveloping her and the others.

Mauritenne blinked several times.

Brash Waves shook his head.

Once the beast was dead, Neila approached Agnes, who was overjoyed at her first time completing a dungeon. She raised her hand for a high-five, which was fucking adorable if I’m being honest. She’s like a giant adorable puppy. “Congratulations Agi, but the limit break is for me and Mauritenne, not you.”

The teenager’s expression shifted from joy to horror within seconds. “Oh fucking hells! I am SO SORRY! It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m a faster learner! I would never put you all at a disadvantage!”

Is she tearing up? Shit. Neila gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re very new to all this.”

“Trust me, if Brash were angry, you’d know.” Mauritenne chuckled while counting gil. “Besides, congratulations are in order!” He rose (stiffly, his knees must be bothering him, poor dear) and offered his hand. “You’re now officially an adventurer, Agi.”

Agnes blushed and shook his hand. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t do it again, lass. Unless we be in dire straits.” Brash Waves took his share of the gil and then kissed Mauritenne. My two lovers. Simply the best.

Mauritenne then slapped Brash’s behind. “Well, that is unless Brash is unable to move after a night of—”

Agnes’s eyes widened, and she began to laugh nervously. “Fun! Lots of fun! Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.” When Mauritenne handed Agnes her share, she gasped. “Is this all for me?!?!”

“Aye, lass. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“I-I won’t! I’ll be sending quite a bit home to my Mum and Da—”

Neila smiled and patted Agnes’s arm. “Remember to keep enough for supplies and such for you too, okay? Your parents wouldn’t want you to not be prepared while you’re traveling.” The way Agi speaks about them shows she loves them very much. Maybe we’ll go to Costa del Sol in a few weeks and have a jolly time by the sea…Brash’s nameday is coming up, so it’ll be the perfect excuse.

Agnes nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes. Right! I’ll make sure to have plenty for supplies and inn rooms.”

The three froze in place.

Inn rooms?!?!

“What?” Agnes glanced at the three experienced adventurers. “Do you not use inns? Are we supposed to camp? I’m not the biggest fan of camping…”

“Ye will be. Inns are expensive, lassie. Cheaper to use hostels or camp.”

That’s quite an expression she has her face! A mix of…hmmm, horror and disgust. Oh Agi, you’ll learn.

Agnes once again laughed nervously. “I’m sure. I just like a comfy bed—”

“And I’d like some bloody wine and Neila in my lap. To the pub!” Mauritenne shouted as he began heading back to Gridania. Brash quickly followed, leaving Neila and Agnes alone.

Neila giggled. “You’ll get used to the two of them. However, what they said is true---inns can be very expensive, Agi.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind, Neila.”

Years later, while watching her two lovers bicker over who took down a beast faster, Neila remembered their friend’s accidental limit break fondly. She never did it again but chose not to take our advice about inns. She foraged or fished to save money on buying meals, so she’d have a comfy bed to sleep in at night. Oh Agi, I hope you’re well. Never ever change.

#agnes currai #neila aliapoh #brash waves #mauritenne #prompt fill #young agi and the three middle aged adventurers #agi is like nahhhhhhh camping sucks #she still hates camping #estinien teases her for hating camping but she likes comfy beds and indoor plumbing okay

[phagvision]

why did you deactivate your twitter?

Twitter used to be a place where I would go to joke around with other girls and back then it was the perfect place to scape from the real world, post stupid shit, make dumb jokes, I've also met soooo many girls who we're from diff countries. I used to had no lesbo frens, so many of the things I've shared there I wasn't able to do irl because no would get it besides them, my older mutuals lowkley raised me too.

But.. I was too self-aware.. very AWARE that I wasn't actually living, and it was slowly killing me, just being a lewser.. and who wantz that..NAWT MY FUTURE WIFE.. def

If you been on the internet since 7yo, like me. you knw what it is like..can't deny I've seen all kind of shit, it can REALLY mess you up, so when I made that account back in 2020, I was 15 years old, as any stupid fucking teenager I was stuck there, it was hard nawt to.. since pandemic made it real easy, and tbh it was wayy more appealing to be there than to actually yknw.. LIVE and interact with people, even my own fawking family.

I've became more depressed than before till the point real life had no appeal anymore, and in the middle of it, I lost myself.

Nowadays I'm about to turn 19 and social media makes no sense to me as it used to, even here, I don't intend to become a tumblrgurl or whatever I will just leave as soon as I find my way, cause internet really sucks life out of you. Itz a fucked up Loop.. and you feel like thats all there is to life, which is soo nawt true.

Still...I miss all of them and I think about them a lot too skdjejd more than I would like to admit, but I will never comeback to dat place. I wish them all the best, they we're soo cool 2 me, more than I deserved. I LOVE YOU ALL TILL DA END.

#WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE 2 POSG A BIBLE TO EXPLAIN MY POINTZ #anon i hope you understoond #lowkley it sounded i left twitter because of pussy but im nawg getting pussy #I AM..LOWKLEY TALKING TO THIS GIRL RN BUT THAGS NOT THE POINT #😭😭😭😭😭😭 #seedavision