#also I feel it belongs to other people more the way the little mermaid belongs to me

[aricarianis]

Mask and Mirror | AO3 Simon "Ghost" Riley / Female Character Rape/Non-con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Predator/Prey, Stalking, Violence, Aggression, Choking.

THIS IS A HORROR STORY. Chapter 1: The Stranger In The Shadows Estimated reading time: 19 minutes.

There are only two rules on Halloween: have fun, and watch out for the freaks.

When an unassuming girl tries to lose the masked stranger stalking her on Halloween night, a spine-chilling game of cat and mouse begins. Each encounter grows more dangerous and intimate, blurring the lines between predator and prey. As tension and terror build, it’s only a matter of time before one of them is forced to surrender—if they make it out at all.

The last autumn breeze brushed past a face that dared to be uncovered on All Hallow’s Eve.

It was cold enough to signal the onset of the darkest season, but not quite enough to force girls into warm clothing. Halloween was the one night where inhibitions faded and impulses ruled. For her, it was also the last chance to have some fun—pull a trick, take home a treat.

Confined in the soft cage of her mermaid costume, she made her best effort to walk quickly, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Partygoers brushed past in waves of theatrical ensembles. In the flashing lights and dark street corners, it was too easy to lose sight of someone. Which pair of wings or which set of bunny ears belongs to whom is anyone’s guess.

She, on the other hand, was hard to lose sight of. Being a mermaid for Halloween was hardly a groundbreaking idea, but the looks of disgust directed at her spoke for themselves. Most mermaids weren’t pallid, perpetually damp and slimy. Their costumes weren’t covered in a mucuous dark liquid that spread to their skin like a filthy sea rash. Their hair wasn’t tangled like seaweed, with nails as sharp as broken shells.

If philosophers who believe humans are inherently bad are correct, and goodness is just a layer people wear each day, then stripping that layer away should keep others at bay. No one should want to come close to something that looks deliberately sickly and unnerving.

No one but the man that kept trailing her, ignoring the warning signs.

Some might argue that being chased by a freak is part of the Halloween experience. After all, it’s the night when masks allow people to wear their ugliness openly, when the veil between real and imaginary gets a little too thin. Good people feel free to be a little bad, and bad people feel free to make the night of horrors live up to its name.

There’s a strange type of comfort about being at a Halloween parade, with celebrations and bonfires that have existed long before our time. The fake blood, the rusty houses, the dirty streets; air heavy with possibility. Any shoulder bumped against could open a door to the unknown. The music—too loud to let screams through. The people—too drunk to perceive danger before it’s too late. Anyone running past could be having fun or could be in genuine danger. Nothing seems safe, and that liminal space of perception, that limbo between bliss and horror that permeates every corner of Halloween night, is what keeps us coming back to celebrate death—as a reminder we’re alive.

Experiencing that limbo is Halloween’s ultimate allure. But sometimes the fantasy breaks, the veil lifts, and you realize that the danger isn’t imaginary.

The burn she felt in her legs as she tried to lose him in the crowd was real enough.

He stayed close despite the ever growing mob.

She grabbed her phone to call her friends once again. It seemed futile with all the noise, yet she tried. After a few minutes, a familiar voice cut through the buzz and made its way to her.

“Mae!” Her friend’s wings bounced as she waved enthusiastically.

Mae pushed through the crowd to get to her newfound safe haven.

“I told you not to call me that in public.”

“It’s short for mermaid—”

“No, it isn’t.”

“And… it’s just for tonight. It’s not safe to give our real names to strangers, you know that. Tonight, you’re Mae and I’m… Fae.”

Mae gave a light chuckle and nodded in agreement.

“Fake names aren’t much of a safety guarantee, I tell you that,” she said while looking around, but there was no sign of the man. She leaned in, close enough for her words to be just between them.

“I saw him.”

Fae turned to look at Mae, the gleam in her eyes matching the glitter on her lids. ���Are you sure? There are a lot of masked people here.”

“I’d recognize that skull mask anywhere.”

A loud smash rang out, and the sharp echo of broken glass traveled the air alongside slurred insults—a brewing brawl. Suddenly, bodies pushed against one another like schooling fish. Mae grabbed onto Fae’s wrist, and as Fae’s eyes trailed up, Mae knew whose hand lay on her stomach. She felt the warmth of a body pressing against her, solid and unyielding; his form swallowing hers completely.

For a second, time stopped. She lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder to meet his eyes—dark as the night sky behind him. Her jaw clenched, anger bubbling up at her own vulnerability. She could’ve sworn she saw a movement, a slight raise of his cheeks behind the mask. Time resumed. A change of position, an unknown push, Fae’s other arm finding hers. Gone.

A man his size shouldn’t be able to vanish so easily.

“We need to get the others! Where’s your phone?  Mine's in Jennifer’s purse.” Fae raised her voice as the agitated horde pushed them to the sidewalk.

“Jennifer doesn’t get a fake name?” The confusion in Mae’s tone turned to heaviness as she searched her purse.

“My creativity only goes so far,” Fae replied. “Come on, give it to me.”

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean? You just had it.”

“Yeah, I did, but I-I can’t find it. I swear, it was right here, it must’ve…” Mae trailed off, scanning the ground, hoping her phone would somehow be there, though deep down, she already knew it wouldn’t.

Their eyes met. The knowing exchange spoke before they could.

“The girls were at the bar at the end of the street when I left to look for you,” Fae said first, nodding toward the direction. “We can start there.”

“We have to get my phone back.”

“It could be just some creep trying to get your attention—”

“Now he has it.” Mae’s anger simmered back up.

“Or... it could be someone trying to hurt you,” Fae said softly, as if assessing her friend’s next step. “You've never had to deal with one like him before.”

“Well… I’ve always loved first times.”

Mae grabbed Fae’s wrist and led the way, her grip tightening as they squeezed through the last of the crowd toward the bar. The quick steps confined in her costume made her legs burn again—a sensation she now knew all too well, and only because of him.

Costumed folks packed the bar, as the air hung thick with booze and bad decisions. In their corner, Mae stared blankly at the far wall, hardly listening as Fae recounted the story. Something in Fae’s tone—how she spun it like a fairytale rather than the gruesome folk legend it truly was—kept Mae’s anger simmering beneath the surface.

“AGAIN?” Tammie’s disbelief pulled Mae back into the moment. Jennifer signaled for her to keep it down, holding the phone to her ear. Tammie leaned in, repeating more quietly, “Again? How many times now, three?”

“Five,” Mae snapped, her voice tight with frustration. “Son of a bitch has followed me five times in three weeks.”

“Not used to a little attention, huh?” Jennifer smirked, clearly savoring the drama. “I told you to do something about it on the third time.”

Mae rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think it’d go this far, Jen. The guy just seemed like a random creep, not a—”

“Stalker?” Tammie finished, crossing her arms. Her usual easygoing demeanor shifted to one of concern.

Silence settled around them, despite the rowdy bar.

“Nothing?” Tammie asked Jennifer, signaling toward the phone.

Jennifer shook her head, the phone still glued to her ear.

“It’s not too late to let it go, babe,” Fae’s soft tone came back as she caressed Mae’s arm. “You’re the last person to go into things without a plan.”

Mae clenched her jaw. “You know damn well he can’t keep that phone—“

“Hello?” Jennifer blurted, eyes wide. “Can you hear me?”

The girls all turned to her, holding their breaths expectantly. Jennifer furrowed her brows as she turned to look at Mae, sharing a glance of mutual confusion before passing the phone to her.

“Hello?” Mae’s voice grew tense, eyes narrowing. “Yes, yes I understand—”

The girls scanned Mae’s face for some hint of explanation, but got nothing. They couldn’t find reassurance in each others’ worried expressions either.

“Why are you…” Her expression shifted from disbelief to irritation. “I understand… Simon.”

Mae handed the phone back, feeling discomfort permeate her body, and watching the girls’ faces contort with anger as they reacted to what she’d just heard.

The Haunted House. Fifteen minutes. Alone.

Despite their protests, the girls reluctantly agreed to let Mae go. It was a public space, after all, and he’d never tried anything dangerous while in a crowd. Maybe it’d be a simple exchange, a creepy way to ask for her number. But what were the odds?

Something weird happens once, it’s an accident. Twice, a coincidence. Three times, a pattern. By the fifth time, it’s hard not to think of it as a threat.

Simon didn’t mind to be seen as a threat; he’d learned early that his quiet intensity threw people off. The way he scanned the most unassuming places, how his every step was measured, balanced; movements so controlled they felt artistic—a dancer gliding across a shadowed ballroom.

Big guys like him were supposed to soften the edges, to show their faces, smile, make themselves smaller. But that wasn’t his training. That wasn’t who he was. Each time he chose not to wear the layers people expected, it was as if they could smell the blood on him, no matter how long it had been washed off. He’d made a living off of realizing his threats, and he was one of the best.

Of course, his nature became a hindrance when he craved human contact, which is why dating was off the table. He fulfilled his desires on other bodies, but never looked for love in them. Love is the most volatile element in any situation, and to be as good as him, you have to give up anything uncertain. In his line of work, predictability is the key between life and death.

He spent most of his free time roaming around the towns his team was stationed at, not only scanning places but people. How they moved, how they talked. The joyful screams of kids when their fathers picked them up. The wrinkles deepening on old ladies’ faces as their husbands repeated the same old stories. How deep a lass bit into the caramel apple she shared with her friend. The way her lips moved and gleamed. How the wind carried the earthy aroma of the forest, the sweet scent of the treat, and her. How she strangely caught his gaze and stared back, longer than anyone would, waving slowly as her sharp nails cut through the air.

There was something off about her, something under the surface. Like touching a wall warmed by the day's sun, even though night has fallen. Or standing outside a seemingly calm room, only to hear faint screaming as a prisoner denies information. Things you’d only catch if you’re watching closely. Attention you only pay to what you’re familiar with.

He trailed her for the first time after she went back for a second caramel apple. The second time was at the local mini-market, her cart stocked with an expensive brand of wine. The third time, he saw her loading luggage into the boot of her car at two in the morning. The fourth was at a restaurant, where she laughed with a group of men, and he sent a bottle of that same wine to her table. The fifth time, he stepped in between her and a street brawl, adrenaline rushing through his veins like a long-lost pulse. His grip on her wasn’t protective; it was a taste of control.

He stared at her phone, patiently counting down the fifteen minutes. Strange how her entire world was just a numerical combination away. Each time the screen lit up with the names of other men, something in him twisted tight. None of them knew her like he did. Did they see how the light made her caramel-stained lips glisten? Taste the remnants of expensive wine lingering on her tongue? Feel the sting of her sharp nails as they left marks that only he could reciprocate?

On that first night, he stared into the void, and the void didn’t flinch—it stared harder and waved back. Unbroken. Defiant. He can’t afford to crave affection, so he made it his mission to watch her surrender. The quiet command in her eyes fueled the mad man within, and he’d treat her like any opponent: study her, approach her, break her.

The most quiet houses often turn out to be the scariest. They look mundane, traditional—the kind of place where a family would lead a regular life. Yet, that façade can be enough to hide the horror inside. Domestic privacy becomes the foundation for a certain brand evil, one that allows fear to fester like mold. Modest walls turn into breeding grounds for monstrosity. Haunted houses, then, are symbols of honesty, of all the decay and abandonment humans are capable of creating.

There’s not a more honest month than October. As Mae entered the local honesty spot, cobwebs danced to the sounds of wood groaning against wind. Plastic spiders and makeshift ghosts welcomed passersby as the flickering jack-o’-lanterns showed them the way. The man inside might as well be another haunted attraction.

The draped black cloth on the walls served as a backdrop for the fake fog swirling at ankle height, forcing Mae to watch her every step. She carefully navigated each room, searching for the skull mask she now knew too well, and the man behind it. The loud whirrs of animatronic witches and the sudden clatter of popping skeletons set her nerves on edge, as if warning her about the last room in the upstairs hallway.

The sign on the door made it clear—that place wasn’t part of the attraction. It was a makeshift storage room for personal belongings, a reminder that the house wasn’t haunted for eleven months of the year. As she peeked inside, her gaze swept across the room until she made out his form. He was staring at a portrait cramped on top of a dresser, next to other family items. A man, a woman, two happy girls and a dog. Normal, certain—an unusual type of predictability for him. He seemed at ease, peaceful. For a moment, his imposing frame and odd behavior seemed almost misunderstood. A view shaped by a pessimism she knew too well.

That feeling lasted until he looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. The way the light seemed to retreat from his gaze as it bore into her soul meant, this time, she was right to assume the worst.

“Give it back.” She stood on the doorway, palm open in demand.

He remained in place as if he were part of the furniture.

“Look,” her sharp gaze signaling an anger that never went away “I don’t know who you are or what you want. If you’re just some weirdo freak who doesn’t know how to ask a girl out, fine.”

She gave him a split second to react, to show that she had read him right. He was stone.

“But if you’re here because you think you can intimidate me—”

His arm shot out, slamming the door behind her. Right hand digging into her jaw; the left tangled in her hair. Her skull met the door with a sharp crack, and the room spun in the echo of her interrupted words. Yet the weight of his body wasn’t enough to crush her defiance.

“—means you haven’t learned anything from all the stalking.” Her voice barely cut through the ringing in her ears. Pain seared through her head, but she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

His hot breath cut through the cold air in shallow bursts—not from exertion, but from something raw and primal: rage fused with obsession and desire. He tightened the grip on her hair as his right hand slid to her throat, squeezing just enough to make it clear she was not in charge. Her eyes widened, a short gasp escaping her lips, and he took her parted mouth as an invitation to close in, their lips brushing against the rough texture of the mask.

“I learned that this,” he spoke into her mouth, his grip tightening around her throat, “is what you needed. You needed someone to control your disobedience.”

Mae furrowed her eyebrows in complete confusion. The weight of Simon’s words twisted something in her stomach, making each exhale heavier than the inhale that preceded it. Nausea creeped in and she felt a wave of tingles on her nose—a sign that his twisted reasoning was taking root.

As the first tears welled in her eyes, he let out an amused chuckle and released her throat. The sudden rush of air into her lungs stung, and she gasped sharply, a sound that turned into an unsteady wail as she noticed his gaze dropping lower. A chill surged through her before she even registered his free, rock hard member pressing against her stomach. It was as if the room itself contracted around her, suffocating with its silence. The veil had lifted—this horror was real.

Her body jerked reflexively, muscles going taut as a wire. Simon’s free hand moved down her skirt, fingers searching for her entrance with a methodical, invasive precision that made her skin crawl. Jackpot. He stroked over her folds, rubbing rough circles on her clit to get her body to react as it would if she were a willing player in this scenario. Her mind raced in an attempt to pinpoint what she could have done to deserve this. But she knew better. This wasn’t her fault, even if the terror whispered otherwise. This was what happened when you brushed too close to people like Simon—quiet beasts that reeked of blood.

“S-Stop, please, Simon, I—“

“Are so wet f’me,” a smug tone on his voice. “Gonna say you don’t want this, luv? Cunt dripping all over my hand and you’re gonna lie?”

Even overwhelmed, Mae’s mind searched for options. She was the last person to go into things without a plan. The first step was to slow down her breath—hard to do when Simon was already using her wetness to bully his thick digits into her; each stroke drawing a hum of approval from him. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as if to answer one of the many questions he had about her. His hot breath, the weight of his body, his rough movements—all filled her senses. Yet she had to find ways to ground herself in the bleak present, to craft the perfect opportunity for an escape.

Mae shifted slightly, feeling the solid surface of the door pressing into her back. The faint steps of the last visitors leaving the house echoed from somewhere distant, signaling that they were alone. She closed her eyes briefly, recalling the layout of the house from her earlier tour. If she timed it right, there was still a chance.

Drawing a breath, she softened her expression, letting her hands move to Simon’s hips. His eyes lit up with a twisted satisfaction as she began to trace her fingers around his cock. “See?” he murmured, his voice low and triumphant. “Just needed some obedience fucked into you.”

But the look in her eyes was anything but submissive. In a sudden, decisive move, Mae clamped her teeth down on the exposed skin of his neck while her nails—sharp as broken shells—raked into his balls. Simon's eyes widened in shock, his grip faltering just enough for her to push her full weight against him. She managed to break the distance between them, the momentum sending him stumbling backward.

The reprieve was brief. He swung back with a brutal slap that cracked like thunder against her face, the force disorienting her and leaving a burning trail of pain that echoed through her skull. She staggered, vision blurring and darkness creeping at the edges, but she didn't let the agony stop her. Mae bolted for the hallway, every muscle straining as she tore through the space and spotted the back door.

Simon’s roar followed, along with the heavy thud of his boots closing in as he wiped the blood dripping from the bite. But she was already out, sprinting toward the woods, the cool night air biting at her skin while an all too familiar burn crept back up her legs.

Trees blurred past in quick flashes, yet Simon’s footsteps were nearly soundless. His breath was steady, pulse in perfect control. The forest was his ballroom, and he moved like a seasoned dancer, leaving no trail behind him despite the thrill of the hunt. Twigs snapped nearby, a deep rustle to his left, a faint crunch to his right. Probably a deer, maybe a bear. To an untrained ear, the woods were brown noise; to him, an orchestra conducting his every step.

The darkness had no effect on him; his trained instincts led the way with ease. He paused, sensing her movements through the undergrowth—chaotic, erratic. Naive girls who think they can escape if they draw a little blood. He knew exactly where she was headed; her scent lingered in his system. He tilted his head to the left, eyes tracking to the right. A footfall right ahead. Jackpot.

Her messy disposition blended seamlessly with the chaos of the woodland. Breathless, disheveled, defeated—a creature in unfamiliar territory. Fish out of water.

She stood a few feet away, slightly hunched in surrender, a stark contrast to her usual proud self. Too easy. A faint prick of unease nudged at the back of Simon’s mind; after all, she had drawn blood the last time he got too close. Still, he pushed forward. He couldn’t have misjudged a simple chase. He was too skilled, too well-trained. One of the best.

He moved patiently over the foliage, cautious as if not to startle a wild animal. She remained still, vulnerable, accepting whatever fate Simon had prepared for her. One step, not too far. Another, closing in. Third step. Loud woosh. Acute pain. A bear trap. Suddenly, a fierce electric sting shot through his limbs, his own body turning against him. A taser. Muscles locked, forcing him into uncontrollable spasms. His back scraped against the rough ground as disorientation set in, making him oblivious to the shadows slipping into his blind spot.

Before he could react, his arms were forced back, wrists bound tightly together. The harsh scratch against his skin warned him of how little time he had before he was fully restrained. He struggled against the bear trap clamping his leg—a painful inconvenience—while the bindings around his wrists constricted further, vertical loops added to prevent any twisting escape. Smart.

Without wasting a moment, they secured his wrists to his waist and loosely bound his elbows, preventing any upward movement even if he managed to wriggle. With his limited upper body strength, finding leverage seemed impossible. The bear trap made it easier for them to restrain his legs, rope wrapping tightly around his lower thighs and knees. To finish the job, they pushed him against a tree, encircling his torso with the final length of rope, fully immobilizing him. As they stood at his feet, admiring their handiwork, a sinking realization settled in—he recognized the three familiar faces. Loyal friends she has.

“Should we get it out?” Jennifer asked, panting lightly as she examined the extent of his leg injury, her expression focused.

“I’m not done with him yet,” Mae retorted, monotone as she bore into his eyes.

“What are you gonna do, babe?” Fae interjected, concern etched across her face, but it wasn’t enough to sway Mae’s resolve.

“Nothing he hasn’t done first.”

Simon watched as the women faded into the forest, leaving him at Mae’s mercy. His uneven breath and racing pulse revealed his disbelief, body heating with the anger of being caught in this situation.

“Good show, lass. Am I bear snack now?” Simon scoffed, his need to regain the upper hand surfacing, even if it was futile.

“Was that your plan for me?”

“Yeah… and I was the bear.”

Mae nudged the trap with her foot, drawing a low grunt from Simon. “You were.”

“You’re a proper nutter, you know that?” His breaths grew shallow and rapid, betraying his frustration.

Mae bent at the waist, lowering herself until her face was just inches away from his. Her gaze steady and unyielding. The void staring back. "Birds of a feather, aren’t we?"

With a swift motion, she tore his mask off and stuffed it into his mouth. Shallow and deep scars littered his face, moonlight glinting over each mark. His nose was crooked, broken one too many times. His eyes—dark, bottomless—widened as he watched her slowly remove her costume, piece by piece. Confusion and dread seeped into him as he struggled to anticipate her next move, to guess what trick she’d pull.

The light traced her form, hugging the curves and lines of her body. Soft yet firm, peaks and valleys of pure poetry that relaxed him at the sight—first time in too long.

She leaned down, straddling his lap, her hands slipping between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Simon furrowed his brows as he felt a pull on his hips. He dropped his gaze to see his pants halfway down his thighs, his member firmly in her hand. She began to stroke it, slowly, feeling the pull of his skin under her touch. “Is this what you wanted?”

Simon grunted, unintelligible, as the mask suffocated his words, his forehead creased in confusion. His body reacted as if it had disconnected from his mind, unaware that this was not how it was supposed to happen.

“I thought you wanted to control me,” Mae sneered as she picked up speed. “You can’t even control yourself.”

Simon took a deep breath as he felt his cock swell under the friction. He struggled to regain composure, to remind himself who was in charge. This was a game—a game he could easily win if he could keep his impulses in check. Keeping his cool under life-threatening situations was part of his job; this should be no different. He was too skilled, too well-trained. One of the bes—

“Open your eyes,” Mae commanded, and Simon obliged, not even realizing when he had closed them. With practiced ease, she pooled saliva at the back of her throat, letting it gather at the tip of her tongue before she opened her mouth—thick strand glistening in the light before landing on the tip of his cock.

Simon could only respond with deep, muffled groans, his face contorted in rage. This was not how it was supposed to go. Veins bulged along his member, which at this point was fully engaged. Precum leaked as he shook his head in frustration, ashamed at how his body betrayed him, welcoming the assault even as his mind rebelled.

Mae raised herself slightly, adjusting his angry red tip right at her entrance, still wet from the earlier invasion. With a slow, methodical movement, she crouched down, easing his thickness into her cunt—tight and fluttering at the incursion. It was massive, almost impossible, the type of weapon used to bring more harm than peace. She shuddered at the thought of how things might have played out were she still under Simon’s reign, yet she remained impassive. “Control yourself.”

Simon’s brows furrowed in plea as he struggled against the ropes—desperate, confused, guilty. He was overwhelmed at the detachment, at how all the physical sensations were there but his mind couldn’t enjoy it. He just wanted out.

Mae picked up the pace as she squatted on his lap, walls spasming at the forced entrance. She could feel him in her bones, splitting her open, invading even when he was out of control. It wasn’t as comfortable as it could be, but it was worth it for his look of terror alone.

He felt dizzy as she fucked him so hard his back scorched against the tree. His pulse pounded in his ears, her warmth and slick mirroring the heat pooling in places he wished it wouldn’t. Simon squirmed, his eyes pleading with Mae to stop as he teetered on the edge of orgasm.

“Control your fucking self!” Mae shouted, her voice brimming with rage. “This is your fault. This is what you made me do!”

Her hands clamped around his throat, surgical, cutting off just enough airflow to push him toward unconsciousness. To Simon, her intentions seemed far more sinister. He let out a hoarse scream, overwhelmed by a surge of anxiety, shame, and a fear he hadn’t felt in years. Her hips plunged, the familiar burn creeping up on her legs as her cunt choked him—violent thrusts sprinting towards the end, demanding. Shockwave. He twitched and grunted as the climax spread across his body, the impact reverberating through them both. His cum leaked from her pussy as the realization dawned—he had severely underestimated his opponent.

As Mae’s movements slowed, her grip around his throat tightened. She watched as his eyes grew heavy, each blink longer than the last, while a disorienting fog clouded his mind.

“Do you know why people wear masks on Halloween?” Mae asked, her voice as calm as rocks in a seastorm.

Simon squinted in confusion, his body going slack beneath her hold. A tremor rippled through his limbs, marking the last moments of resistance before surrender.

“They believed the line between the world of the living and the dead blurred, and that spirits could walk the earth. They started wearing masks because they thought they could protect themselves from evil by blending in,” she continued, her tone hypnotic. “But, you see, we don’t know what evil looks like.”

His eyes fluttered, unfocused, a final shudder running through him as he hovered at the edge of darkness. The moment hung suspended, enough for Mae’s voice to cut through one last time before he slipped entirely into the void.

“Would you be scared of the boogeyman if he looked like me?”

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Mermaids

This week’s games are all about swimming, stabbing, and sinking ships as creatures of the open ocean - or at least, a local body of water.

Siren Silk, by DOCTOR_dev.

Players take the roles of journeyfolk, the umbrella term for travelers that spread word and wares under the waters of the Swiften Sea, home of the branchia and their kingdom Ornata. Trade is done through any number of means: you can barter goods, harvest and deliver natural resources, craft at your traveling workshop, spin stories, or deliver news to the fringe settlements of Ornata.

Siren Silk is still a work in progress, but it has more than just mermaids on offer. You can play as various kinds of undersea folk, including sirens, krakens and sea serpents. Siren Silk is built on the Passkey System, which offers a diceless way to play, using something called EP. You have stat pools with various amounts of EP, which you can spend in order to gain a success; spend more EP, get a more effective success. You can also gain advantage or disadvantage in certain situations, which gives you discounts or higher EP costs. Your PCs might also take on conditions throughout their adventures that help or hinder them in mechanical ways, such as granting disadvantage, giving you extra EP, etc.

If you want to play this game with dice, there’s also a dice-rolling set of rules that correspond to the spending of EP, so I think Siren Silk has the potential to be flexible to your table.

Siren Squad, by Jennafiggers.

The Cerulean Sea needs your help! Join the Siren Squad, where you and your friends are rainbow mermaid secret agents. Summon adorable sea creatures, solve puzzles and explore for clues until you complete your Mission to keep the sea safe. This is a world where magic and technology intertwine, all sorts of fantastic sea creatures thrive, and friendship is the most powerful force of all.

Siren Squad is a cinematic game reminiscent of American Saturday morning cartoons where the heroes win and everything goes back to normal at the end of the episode. If you love the puny, light action of Totally Spies or Powerpuff Girls, the thematic characters of Streetsharks or Skylanders, or the off-the-wall adventures of Chalkzone and Ruby Gloom, you'll probably love this game.

This game is currently in play testing form, but the designers certainly seem to have high hopes for it! You appear to construct your character from a playbook, that is heavily themed to make each PC feel unique, powerful and dynamic. Right now there appears to be google sheet versions of the playbooks, which hold Quickstart characters for people who want to get a bit of a peek into the game before committing to purchasing. One of the cutest things in this game is the existence of buddy beasts! I have no idea how they work but the art for them is very very cute.

Storm Drain Mermaids, by Papertigress.

You are a feral mermaid. You and your sister sirens (the other players) live in the local city/urban waterways, each having a territory and rallying together in flood/drought/calamity situations for survival as needed…

Now is one of those times.

This is a simple one-page game that can be printed off and double as a character sheet for each player. Your mermaid has 5 stats, and a territory that “belongs” to you and therefore gives you an advantage when you act while within it. Each player also has a pool of “scales” that can be used to improve their chances with every roll, or to inflict penalties on an opposing force. The game feels balanced between chance and the spending of resources to ensure your character succeeds a healthy amount of the time. There’s also roll tables a-plenty here, to help the GM come up with ideas as the players swim through the world.

Under the Sea, by rzut-na-angielski

Over the years the story of The Little Mermaid and her horrid end was a cautionary tale for young merfolk. But you - a group of teenage friends - think that Ariel was right. Humans are sexy. Especially the one you’ve been stalking for the past month. If you can’t go up there, then you’ll have to make sure that your human gets to live under the sea with all of you. Play to hatch a polyglamorous plan to get your human some gills AND MAKE THEM FALL HEAD OVER FINS FOR ALL OF YOU!

A goofy game about falling in love and trying to get your crush to like you back, Under the Sea is 2 pages long and grants your character three simple stats: Fins, Heart and Mind. You also carry with you some kind of magic, although how you wield that magic appears to be up to player interpretation.

The game has a very clear endgame scenario: your Human mast have gills and/or be in love with you by the end of the game, or they will die / return to the surface world, never to be wooed again. The course of the game runs over three stages: finding your human, approaching them, and bringing them to the sea (where hopefully, they will fall in love).

Guardians of the Sea, by Ezra Tellington.

"Mermaids used to live in harmony with nature and, for the most parts, humans. Sure, homo sapiens sapiens was both nutritious and easy to charm, but mermaids held no animosity towards their prey. In the last century, though, everything changed: oil spills, plastics, whole species of plants and animals eradicated, what was one day an underwater paradise began to look like a wet wasteland. Mermaid population began to shrink and the remaining ones moved to further removed regions, where humans and their trash could not find them.

In the anarchist society of mermaids emerged harsh discussions: should they wage an actual war against humanity to defend their ecosystem? Some individuals insist that not all humans are at fault, but this opinion is getting less and less popular as the marine animals die out."

Guardians of the Sea looks to be a short game, approximately 9 pages long. The character skills appear to exist as rows of pips, similar to World of Darkness, which might be easy to manage visually. The game itself is mostly about capitalism and ecology; a war rising from the ocean as the onset of climate change makes your characters’ homes uninhabitable. If you like stories that have a little bit of revenge in them, you might like this game.

A Salt Kiss Remains by Whimsy Machine.

A Salt Kiss Remains is game of mermaids, magic, and monsters in the great open sea and the land it crashes upon. We play as denizens of the ocean or other aquatic environments, exploring and protecting this world. These adventures can be lighthearted and fun, exploring sunken ruins of ancient humans, falling in love, and building families, and they can reach like the sea ever deeper. In these dark depths, we explore the damage humans cause to the oceans, what it means to be predator and prey, and the unfathomable mysteries of this vast world.

A Salt Kiss Remains may still be in alpha, but it is FULL of moves, in a way that feels slightly reminiscent of Apocalypse World. Each move references a specific situation in the game, and some of them specifically use a resource called corruption in order to help your mermaids to magical things. This includes (but is not limited to), sapping all life from a location, reading the entrails of dead creatures as a form of augury, and warping the forms of other creatures to your will.

The game also comes with a set of introductory adventures, which may be helpful for GM’s who want a solid place to start, or even just some inspiration for the kinds of stories you can tell with A Salt Kiss Remains.

Radioactive Mermaids of the Burning Sargasso, by kumada1.

In the year 2020, the world was veiled in darkness. The wind stopped. The sea was wild. The earth began to rot. And humanity went into decline. Five thousand and fifty three years have passed since then. It is now the year 2021. Life clings desperately to the ocean.

Two things are true: you are a mermaid, and you are rad.

Specifically, you are a radiotrophic being, feeding on the hazardous background noise of the universe to fuel your cool powers.

In the oceanic zone where you live, the Burning Sargasso, you are unique among lifeforms. Most creatures here are radiation-resistant, but you actively absorb and neutralize it. This makes you something of a keystone species. It also gives you potent science-magic powers, and one heck of an obligation.

Radioactive Mermaids of the Sargasso revolves around building an enclave in the sargasso and improving it, for both your sake and the sake of the wildlife around you. You’ll collaboratively define the elements of your enclave, and work together to make it flourish. Tending to the garden doles out Tedium to the caretakers, which can force your mermaid to leave the enclave if they accrue too much - eventually freedom becomes too alluring to resist. Your character might also accrue something called Rads, which don’t harm you, but can be used to fuel your science-magic powers.

If you want a unique take on mermaids and a collective, clear goal, you might want to check out Radioactive Mermaids of the Sargasso.

Seven Deadly Sirens by Litza Bronwyn.

In this game, you play one of seven types of mermaids and roll with seven deadly sins to power your basic and special moves in order to summon ships, lure men to you, devour their hearts, and collect their treasures.

Previously released, this second version of the game contains updated information based on playtesting feedback, beautiful stock imagery, and new formatting.

Each of the seven playbooks comes with a section for describing your character, filling out the bonuses for your seven sins (used as stats), relationship questions, special moves, and a place to keep track of your wounds, experience, how much treasure you've collected, and how many hearts you've devoured (which you can use to enhance more powerful moves).

Seven Deadly Sirens feels the most gritty on this list, with bonuses and negatives for various moves being determined by your Sins, which measure things such as your desire for sex, food, possessions, etc. You are all different kinds of mermaids, inspired by various sea creatures, granting you unique moves that match your playbook - such as the mer-eel, who is slippery and has a unique relationship with lightning.

This game also highlights relationships, both between the PCs and the men they will encounter. Men are cruel and lovely; they are potential lovers, victims, opponents, and so much more. Will you consume them? Or will they consume you? Play to find out.

[shifterdomain]

Reading Thirst Tweets / Jonah Hauer-King X Actress!Reader

A/N: So, I’m kind of obsessed with watching these type of videos and I thought I’d just combine it with my love for this beautiful man and wait for Buzzfeed to realize it’s what the people want. I actually found the tweets by looking up thirst tweets on Twitter, but I can't really remember by who they were, so please let me know if you know.

Summary: You had wrapped the project you and Jonah had been working on for the past year and a half and now you are invited by Buzzfeed to come and read the Thirst Tweets they picked out for the both of you. Warnings: Thirst tweets, obviously. Including some innuendo's. Word count: 925.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You and Jonah were sat down in the studio that belonged to Buzzfeed, a blue screen behind you guys as you both giggled nervously, anxious to know just what people had been writing about the two of you on Twitter. You shifted in your seat, two buckets sat on the table in front of you guys that contained the small pieces of paper with the thirst tweets.

Once the camera was set you were given the signal, smiling into the camera as you introduced yourself first. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“And I’m Jonah Hauer-King,” Jonah chimed in. “and today we are reading your thirst tweets.”

Jonah dove his hand in first, pulling out a piece of paper that contained a thirst tweet about you. You had both, with approval of the studio, decided that it would be fun if you actually read each other’s.

“’Y/N Y/L/N is so fine, in this essay I will-’ and then it stops,” Jonah reads, putting the paper aside. “See, I never got the hype with the whole ‘in this essay I will’ meme.”

“It’s a Gen Z thing, you’re just too old,” you joked teasingly, earning a bitch face from Jonah, which, quite frankly, looked more adorable than anything else. “Don’t stress it, babe.”

He rolls his eyes as you call him that, but you could tell that he was feeling a little anxious about hearing what people were saying about him. His cheeks turning a crimson color as you smirked mischievously, scrabbling through the papers before picking one out and reading it to yourself first. You couldn’t help but laugh before you started reading it aloud in a playfully seductive way. “’oh jonah hauer-king baldheaded? that will make your pussy throb’, and then a woozy face emoji and three weary face emojis,” I said, looking back at Jonah as he had his face buried in his hands, trying to keep from laughing too hard as he hid his slowly darkening blush.

“That’s… wow,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head slowly. Inhaling sharply he puffed his chest, getting ready for whatever more was to come as he dug his hand into the bucket again, pulling out another note. “This is in all caps,” he stated. “’HOLY MAMA Y/N Y/L/N IS SO FUCKING FINE. PLEASE MOMMY’.”

“Ahw, thank you,” you reply sweetly, smiling at the camera.

Jonah raises his eyebrows at you. “You like that nickname?” he questions with a teasing undertone in his voice.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you grin back, diving your hand into the bucket before he could ask anything else, pulling out another piece of paper. This one was a little bigger, so you had to fold it open, revealing not just a quote, but also a picture from Jonah’s Instagram. “‘I wasn’t going to see the movie at first, but that bulge is definitely gonna bring people to see The Little Mermaid.’” you read aloud, nodding your head as you put the paper down. “See, you should definitely go to see the movie. It’s a great movie and there’s a lot of scenes where you see his abs too.”

Jonah blushes deeply again, causing you to chuckle lightly. It was pretty easy to get him flustered with compliments about how he looked as he could sometimes still get self-conscious, something you, together with most of his fans, couldn’t really understand the reason of as he was surely a very good-looking guy.

You moved on through the notes, sharing a lot of laughter and a lot of blushes as between the milder tweets there were some that were very much unhinged and creative, rendering the both of you speechless in some occasions.

“‘god i NEED jonah hauer-king on top of me, like bad, it’s not even funny anymore 🥴🥴’,” you continued, reading one of the last few tweets. “Let me tell you, it feels good,” you joke, not bothering to explain the scenario. Jonah simply looked at you and grinned, leaning in to press a quick peck to your cheek, knowing that that mere moment would send the fans into a frenzy.

You continued reading the last tweets in the bucket.

“‘Y/N Y/L/N can slap me, spit in my mouth and run me over and I’d say thank you’,” Jonah read aloud. “Oh, wait, this is mine,” he jokes, shaking his head as he takes a second look at the picture that was posted with it. It was a picture he took during the first week of rehearsals and posted on his Instagram. He folded the picture and stuffed it in his jean pocket, making you burst out laughing as you clapped while doing so. Shaking your head in disbelief before dropping your head on his shoulder.

After a moment of catching your breath you dove in for the last piece of paper. “‘if a woman tells you you have “nice hands” she is doing everything in her power not to fuck you senseless please release her from her torment her friends are receiving the kinds of messages someone in prison would send and with that said i would like to let you know that jonah hauer-king has very nice hands’.”

I looked back at Jonah as he placed his hands flatly on the table, looking down at them intently. “I think my hands look fairly normal,” he stated simply, tilting his head slightly to the side as he examined his own hands.

“You have very nice hands, Jo,” you quipped before looking back into the camera with a wink and adding: “and very large too.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I am very curios, do you have any ideas for Disney songs as themes for the Cullens/Volturi?

I mean, I hadn't thought of it before this ask, no, but we'll see what we can come up with.

I'll just do the Cullens so this post doesn't become unwieldly.

Alice

I almost went with My Strongest Suit from Aida. However, that's about the singer's insecurity and hiding this with fashion (believing she has nothing else to offer) and that's not really Alice.

I don't have anything for Alice as she's a very strange character at the end of the day and not one I can see a parallel to in Disney which means there's no song that suits her that well.

Bella

Belle from Beauty and the Beast or Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid. The first is that Bella is in this small provincial town that she feels better than and falls in love with an isolated creature she's not supposed to. Bella undoubtedly feels a lot of kinship with Belle. The second is how Bella views vampirism, the grass is always greener relationship where she earnestly wants to become something she doesn't fully understand with a teenage optimism.

Carlisle

I'm going to cheat a bit here and pull out The Rainbow Connection from The Muppets Movie as DIsney currently owns the Muppets. There's a lot of Carlisle in Kermit, I personally think, and he's in his own way one of those stubborn head in the clouds optimists that the song describes.

Otherwise, slightly less cheating but perhaps still cheating, I'll pull Someday from The Hunchback of Notre Dame post-credits song. It's the Somewhere of the Disney repertoire in the hope that, someday, people will be better than they are now.

Edward

You can't spell Edward without Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Nothing is closer out of the Disney repertoire to Edward's self-loathing, temptation, and guilt.

Emmett

You can't spell Emmett without bear puns, and there's no song more laid back and bear filled in the Disney repertoire than The Bare Necessities. Brings to mind, for me at least, Emmett's laidback personality and approach to life.

Esme

Esme's not really exacting enough to be Mary Poppins (practically perfect in every way) but I'll pull out A Spoonful of Sugar anyway as it seems like the kind of advice Esme adheres to. Namely, that all you need to approach tasks you dislike are to make some element of fun to them.

Jasper

The closest I can think of is Rest and Recreation from the stage adaptation of Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's not right in that Jasper's reaction to fleeing the battlefield is not to become a partier (as Phoebus is portrayed here) but it does at least address the pointless bloodshed of war that Phoebus is desperately fleeing from by any means he can.

Renesmee

Out There from The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Obviously, this is very headcanon land of where I think the Renesmee story's going but I feel like hers will be a story of longing for the outside world that's slightly more desperate/marred than A Part of Your World (in that Renesmee can never truly belong among humans due to vampirsm).

There's also What's This? from Nightmare Before Christmas (the film was produced by Disney along with Tim Burton) In that I imagine the human world is so new and exciting to Renesmee and unfamiliar to her with no idea what anything is.

Rosalie

I really wracked my brains, but I couldn't come up with anything. The thing about Rosalie is, for obvious reasons, nothing really like her story happens in the Disney films. So, we don't get a character song that really emphasizes who she is, what she went through, and how she recovers.

As much as I stretch the other ones, I really have nothing for her.

[feral-jackdaw]

In the Waves I Belong

day 7 of #steddieweek2023 - free space (I went with a mermaid au since it's also Mermay)

‼️tw near drowning

Steve and Robin go to the seaside together. They spend the days at the beach, and at night, they usually visit the local bars.

One day, they decide to go to a more remote beach. They want to have a little break from being among people and just chill.

They end up being the only people here. The weather is just perfect; it's sunny, but not too hot thanks to the cool breeze.

Steve decides to go for a swim while Robin lies in the sun. Everything is perfect... until Steve feels a migraine kicking in. The world starts to spin like crazy around him, everything melts into a blur. He knows he should get out of the water, but he's quite far away from the shore and it's not that easy. He can barely see anything, he doesn't know which direction to go.

“Steve?” he hears Robin call. “Are you okay?”

Before he can respond, a wave washes over him. He starts coughing as water fills his mouth and nose.

“Hold on, I'm coming,” Robin calls again.

No, Steve wants to yell, you can't swim. But he's unable to say anything, struggling to stay afloat. He's fully panicking now. He's going to die. They're both going to die.

Next thing he knows, a pair of arms wraps firmly around him. It feels almost like a hallucination. He can't even open his eyes to see what's happening; his body just won't listen to him. Soon, he can't feel anything at all.

...

“Steve?”

Slowly, Steve starts to feel his body again. But it still seems too heavy for him to control. He tries to take a breath, which causes a violent cough to shake his body.

“Steve!” someone calls again, grabbing Steve's shoulders and forcing him to sit up. “You're not gonna believe this!”

“What?” Steve mumbles. He finally manages to open his eyes and sees Robin looking at him, visibly shaken.

“Mermaids,” she blurts. “I swear I saw two mermaids, they... They saved us both,” she reports.

“Someone's been sitting in the sun for too long, huh?” Steve mocks. But when he looks around, there is no one else except for them. Which meant that unless Robin had suddenly gained expert swimming abilities, managed to rescue Steve and was now trying to prank him, there was no other explanation for what happened.

“Shut up, dingus,” Robin mutters. “You're soon gonna be sitting in the sun as well because there's no way I'm letting you go swimming ever again,” she rebukes.

....

Steve can't stop thinking about what happened, and neither does Robin. She hadn't really managed to take a proper look at the mysterious creatures; all she was able to tell was that there were two of them, most likely a boy and girl; the boy had long dark hair, and the girl was a blonde.

When they go to a bar in the evening, they decide to ask the locals about mermaids.

“Oh, there sure are some around here,” the barman tells them while preparing Robin's pina colada. “But they're quite shy, you need to be lucky to see one.”

Steve and Robin exchange looks. Nothing needs to be said, they're both thinking the same thing: they trurly had incredible luck earlier today.

Then, Steve sees two people walk in. His eyes instantly focus on the boy, more or less his age, with big brown eyes and dark curls tied into a messy bun. His companion is a blonde girl with a ponytail and bright blue eyeshadow on her eyelids.

“Oh my-” Robin gasps, looking at the pair. “Steve, it's them,” she whispers.

“What?” Steve asks, confused.

“The mermaids,” Robin explains.

Steve stares at the newcomers in disbelief. Is it possible for a mermaid to suddenly grow legs? And then, the boy notices him staring.

“Hey,” he greets with a warm smile. “Wanna dance?”

“Uhh... sure,” Steve stutters.

The stranger offers Steve his hand and leads him to the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, Steve can see that his companion took a seat next to Robin and they seem quite engaged in a conversation.

The boy grabs Steve's waist and they begin swaying to the music. Steve can't help but stare at him in awe. He could spend the rest of his life looking in those big brown eyes.

“Hey, sweet boy,” the man murmurs, pulling Steve closer. “I'm glad you're okay, you gave me quite a scare today.”

[iphigeniainaulis]

Moon of the Sleeping

@flash-exchange is probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’ve met so many talented people who proceed to go above and beyond with their passion for art, writing and beauty.  @ikemendood, I know how much you love Dazai, and I hope that this work captures his spirit even a little bit 💜 I’ve put the references I used under the cut. The sea divider belongs to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

Character: Dazai

Promt: Midnight sun

That night the moon was as bright as the midnight sun. Somewhere  close behind you the ship was cracking in the agony, sinking in the dark foam of the furious ocean. Black waters stretched their ugly tentacles, and your lungs were burning from the lack of air. Cold star flames merged into Phoenix, the night sky was on fire.  

There was no art, no poetry in the endless fabric of black silk. Melanydros. That’s how Greeks called it. The ocean roar had  deafened you, yet when your tired body found peace in the abyss,  your heart’s beat was loud and clear. The requiem of the soul. 

How unfair. 

Life was cruel to you, but that was the reason why you cherished it so much. The light of other days flushed in your head, but its rays were too powerless to warm you*. Deep waters catched your last breath, as well as laughter, pain and will.  

Somebody’s strong arms tightened around your waist, but the complete darkness of the mad ocean did not allow you to see whether it was the Angel of Life or Death. Amber stars broke into flames, their melancholy reflected in the eyes in front of you.

And then you woke up. 

Ocean waves, those waves that had resembled merciless snakes in Medusa’s hair only a few hours ago, now were softly caressing your toes. The sun was white at its Zenith, and the sand felt so very real with its salty smell. Hydrangea petals in your palm were whispering secrets, but the ocean wind swallowed those sounds.

My soul is blessed with your presence.

But also

I wish I could forget these feelings.   

From that time you acquired a habit of coming to the shore every single day. Perhaps, that night was a dream, but then you strove for the dream to be night. Because that was the only way you could meet your savior with a hydrangea flower blooming in his chest.  

At some point, anger conquered your mind. Why should kindness  always exist in secret? Your helplessness was irritating, and it was irritation that made you kick that tiny seashell. Instead of a loud bump, however, you heard soft chuckles.  

“Where are you?” you cried while shaking like a sail in the storm.

The laughter repeated, although there was no joy in it. Putting your ear to the seashell, you could hardly sense a wave splash, and then there was that voice that held all the sadness of the world. 

“My soul is empty, and my life carries no hope. You’d better leave me.” 

“If your soul is empty, then take what my soul is full of. If your life carries no hope, then find it in me.”

“...when the moon turns as bright as the sun.”

Withered hydrangea in your pocket turned into a golden dash. 

That night the moon was as bright as the midnight sun. The sand crunched under somebody’s feet. Counting your heart’s every beat, you turned around only to sink into the cerise glare of the setting sun. The man in front of you smiled, and it felt cruel. 

“My name is Charles-Henry. Are you waiting for me? ” 

His POV

Legend has it that nobody in the world can be more beautiful than mermaids. Their voices are sweet as honey, their gaze reflects the wisdom of eternity. And yet among all creations of the Heavens it is hard to find a creature more horrible and hideous than a mermaid. Sea runs through their veins, flowers bloom in their chests. With the last petal a mermaid’s soul leaves its body, turning into snow foam.

Pathetic creatures.

Meeting with you was written in the stars, but dear Gods, oh how he prayed to never see your face. You, weak little human who fought against ancient nature. Silly, brave, beautiful creature. There was more honor in your defeat than in his entire being.  

Dazai, that’s how the creature called himself, pressed your tiny body to his chest, knowing full well that the blooming flower in it was already shedding its petals. 

Your stubbornness touched Dazai but at the same time worried him. His efforts to push you back were all in vain. Warm ocean waves  that drenched your clothes. Baby jellyfish, they didn't even know how to sting properly. Slimy water plants. Nothing worked.

One day you almost fell into the ocean, slipping on the slippery pier. He had to let it happen. To make you give up on him. But Dazai raised his arm, forcing waves to catch you and push to the shore. 

What if you were still afraid of the ocean?

Creatures like him deserved neither love nor compassion. They were Gods’ first Galatea, only a mere resemblance of the true perfection. That was the law he thought he was ready to defend. 

“If your soul is empty, then take what my soul is full of. If your life carries no hope, then find it in me.”

Bade farewell to any roots of hope within your sorrow. For as it is the sibling of the grief. 

Evening clouds locked the sky in the gray cell, hiding the moonlight from the shore. Watching you from the boulder, Dazai was ready to join you in the anxious dance of walking back and forth, counting seconds before his revelation. Amber stars in his eyes were wavering with unspoken emotions, too deep to describe, too personal to share.  

Soon he would show himself to you. Leaving fears behind, bathing in your kindness and beauty. Maybe, even a creature like him was worth the chance? The clouds began to move. He was getting closer to the shore, holding in his hands a treasure. Splash of water. You signed. Dazai raised his hands, palms open. The treasure in them turned silver with the moon finally reining the night. 

“My name is Charles-Henry. Are you waiting for me? ” 

You didn't notice him, and your leaving shadow darkened Dazai’s soul**. The Hydrangea flower in his hand dropped its last petal, and the void in the creature’s chest suddenly was hurting. The ocean waves screamed, covering the silence of the lonely clown’s heart***.

“Wait, a clown?”

“My, but this is another story, right? Toshiko-chan…”

You raised your head, watching fire from the mansion’s fireplace throwing shadows on the writer’s face. Amber stars broke into flames, their melancholy reflected in the eyes in front of you.

*“So gleams the past, the light of other days,

Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays”

(Lord Byron Sun of the Sleepless!)

**“For quickly comes such knowledge — that his heart

Was darkened with her shadow, and she saw

That he was wretched, but. she saw not all.”

(Lord Byron The Dream)

***“But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart

The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.”

(Lord Byron I Speak Not)

[mutedeclipse]

something that bothers me sometimes, as a semiprofessional character designer.

hot take: mermaid bomber from jetters is much better designed than bomber mermaid from online, a tumblr post from an idiot with too much free time... below the cut!

intentionally inflammatory title and thesis statement aside, i have strong opinions and i hope to be heard out here

lets start with the first thing i notice people have a problem with, her colours. the warm green/cool pink used in her design are complementary and don't compete with other characters of similar colour ranges. while i do agree the softer salmon, cooler green and yellow toned orange of bomber mermaid have a more pastel and harmonious appeal... mermaid bomber (i would assume) is coloured the way she is to be clearly visible on an older television and through compression.

pictured above, an example of her being clearly visible in a distance shot, bomber mermaid could never

SURE they may clash at times especially outside of the lighting of a scene, but looks gorgeous in lighting that complements her. lighting that would also render bomber mermaid's colours nigh indistinguishable from the backdrop of any given scene

an example of a scene with extreme lighting i think would be a detriment to bomber mermaid's colour scheme.

I'll admit the sheer amount of colours are a little unnecessary its quite in line with the other characters on the show. ESPECIALLY the other shitennou who are eye catching on purpose for reasons that feel like it further serves the 'they're different from other combined bombermen and don't quite belong' narrative. Mermaid bomber looks like a whole ass character, bomber mermaid strikes me as much more 'villain of the week' with a cutesy spin

moving on to her structure as a character... her design was made to have a DISTINCT silhouette!! both do, actually... but the online portrayal feels quite generic in comparison to jetters' while still following shape language its loose, doesn't indicate much shes a bomber first and foremost. mermaid bomber's design follows the philosophy of what i will call a teardrop type character (a combination of triangles and circles) giving her a quite regal, even cunning edge to complement her round and cute features... which I'd say fits her character well. shes a spoiled daddy's girl princess who uses her cute charm. her much more overt femininity ALSO is important to this fact, its how she gets her way!

the scales on her limbs resemble arm and leg warmers respectively (quite popular with teens at the time) the latter of which popularly being worn with miniskirts, her skirt like fin reminiscent of a pleated skirt. her prominent amount of scales remind me of sequins. hell, her whole vibe REEKS of y2k in incredibly subtle and unique ways its so beautiful now that I've noticed it.. this inherently bold sense of fashion distinguishes her from other female characters (such as misty or shout) on the cast, her tall stature distinguishes her from other bombers.. the only other main character bearing a shadow of resemblance is young momo! which i find neat for a couple reasons I'm sure you could deduce yourself.

her fin on her back makes her look much more dangerous and reminds you that shes meant to be a weapon, along with her belt and much more mask like face shape. along with the sharper points but these details are subtle enough to overlook from an in universe perspective

screenshot from whataboutfractions, seriously guys she has a tail too and it rocks.

i was going to add thunder but the making of this post was so long, i feel like he gets a lot less flack for his design and i wanted to express my love for character design today, that and point out to people who probably agree with me why mermaid's design is important.

[acmoorereadsandwrites]

Some things that have helped me (so far) on my journey to writing a novel

Caveat that I am not agented and am still writing. I'm just sharing what is helping me in case it might help someone else.

Writing a query after 10k. Nothing sucks more than getting 40k in and realizing that you don't actually have stakes. Or character motivations. Or a throughline. Or worse, all three are missing. If you are a pantster/gardener like me, it really pays to write until you've had a bit of time to get to know the world, plot, and characters and figure out what they are and what they are doing and then write a query. If you struggle to write it, you might need to pivot, especially if you realize all you have is events and characters passively doing things.

Be willing to let projects marinate. I'm not gonna talk about how many WIPs I have because that's a really embarrassing number. The amount of ideas marinating in the back of my head is even longer. When a project is just not working and you cannot force it, set it aside and give it more time. Come back to it when you're ready to tackle it; maybe you'll have new ideas and better ways to handle the subject matter or characters.

Writing short stories can be a great way to try things out. Want to improve your descriptions or combat scenes? Or maybe you really just want to get a better grasp on word choice and sentence variety. Maybe that idea can be developed further or maybe it's only meant to be a short story. Either way, the idea has been exorcised and you have a new project to develop your editing skills on on top of having worked on your other skills.

Do a reverse outline as you go. If you are not a plotter/architect, the idea of the outline can either be really scary or it can be counterproductive. If I write an outline before the work, I feel as if I've written it. The journey matters more to me than the destination and I lose all motivation if I have a finished, developed outline. Instead, I write a chapter and then jot down what the audience learns, what the characters learn/are revealed to have known, and the contents of the chapter. I also keep notes in a spreadsheet on characters, motifs, potential changes, themes, and worldbuilding details.

This is to my fellow pantsters: do not let yourself become too inspired by your New Favorite Thing when it comes to the WIP. Do not do it. Do not let the themes of infertility in the Witcher invade your retelliing of Snow White if you never had plans for it to be there without seriously thinking it over. Make a note, let it sit, and decide later when you are no longer as inspired. Sometimes it really can work and is the right choice. Other times...no. Mermaids do not belong in every project no matter much you love The Little Mermaid. Save yourself the grief of taking hard pivots you have to undo at a later date.

Not keeping everything in my head and writing it down. Things still in your brain are beautiful and perfect and are still so very malleable. You cannot possibly keep track of every aspect of your WIPs if it's only in your head and, worse yet, if you're anything like me, you cannot edit what you cannot physical see on the page. When it's on the page, then you can do the real work of figuring out if it actually works.

Regularly consume media from a variety of cultures, genres, and voices. Netflix has an incredible catalogue of works ranging from a Nigerian legal drama to a South African conspiracy teen drama to an Irish comedy about the Troubles and life under normalized violence to a South Korean historical zombie horror series. For books, there is a growing wealth of translated works from many different cultures and a sharp rise in diverse authors. Australia has it's own literary movements as does Japan and Brazil. There are more and more books by and for Queer and neurodivergent people. Even listening to music can help. It's important to see what groups outside of your own are doing in media and art, how they represent themselves and their identity/culture/history, and the kinds of stories they want to see and make. It might inspire you, but it's also a great chance to learn and help uplift other voices.

Reading. This is tied to number 7, but reading really cannot be understated. Read the age category and genre you want to write in. Read short stories professionally published online. If you do better with audiobooks, listen to audiobooks. Thankfully, more and more authors seem to be getting them.

Resources:

[skcolicity]

I just watched the live action Little Mermaid...

and I think it has surpassed the animated version as my favorite of all time. Let me explain.

The Little Mermaid animated movie is/was my favorite Disney movie growing up. it's the movie I've seen the most times in my life, with Lion King probably coming in second. I lived in a family/community that had rules that were strict, and I never felt I really belonged. I always wanted to collect experiences, something I still do to this day. the only thing I want out of life is to travel all over and discover new places and people and feel wonder and indulge my curiosity, find new obsessions. it's why I tend to fall deeply in love with stories and shows, why I read and write fanfic, to explore more of these worlds in my mind. I eventually left that world of strict rules and dogma and found the love of my life who let me be who I really am, who encouraged me to explore every part of me as a person. I think that's why Little Mermaid has always resonated with me. (Also, I love the songs.) The animated version will always have a place in my heart.

But the live action version.... man.... it took all the really great moments in the original and translated them almost word for word, beat for beat, like the entire beginning sequence, the first scene between Ariel and Ursula, the blue lagoon scene, and so many more. It was *chef's kiss* perfect.

And then, they took some parts that in retrospect are kinda weak, in comparison, and made them BETTER. They made Eric a much more interesting character with an interesting backstory. They took tiny little moments from the original and expanded it, like his reluctance to be a king in the traditional way, like giving his wanderlust a greater motivation, being a different kind of leader. His goal in life is much more than finding the perfect girl, it's building a better, more connected world for the family he became a part of.

The first time Ariel sees him on the ship, they made that more impactful in the live action version. It was clear and palpable that she was seeing a kindred spirit in him, something made even more powerful when she found his room of knick knacks. The entire sequence in that room of Eric teaching her all kinds of things is something I don't think we really see in the animated version. It's seeing how well they fit together, like they're made for each other, they get each other at a deep level. And she taught him things he never knew, lighting him up with wonder.

Speaking of wonder, I really loved how much time they spent on Ariel's wonder of the human world on their day out. Halle did such an amazing job expressing that curiosity and wonder with her bright eyes and innocent expression. She really is the perfect casting for Ariel. She has such a sweet smile.

Ugh this movie made me so emotional. It definitely tapped into a younger me and made me feel all my feelings. It brought me on a journey and gave me so much more than I expected, so much more than the animated version did. It's better than the original, and I don't regret saying so.

Also, that new song that Ariel sings about gravity? AMAZING.

[cryptidshadows]

To the Weird Dysphoria Anon!

I got your message, and I understand your experience is kinda graphic, so I put my thoughts and your Q under the cut! (Body horror/dysphoria/uncomfortable experiences)

Anon's message was:

"Trans man with the weird experience of dysphoria again! I don’t mind if it gets published, I just don’t want to trigger anybody because the way I describe shit is kinda…idk, graphic? My experience is strange because I almost never feel that my body itself is wrong. I just don’t -fit- in it. It hit with puberty and believing that whatever used to live in this body had given it up and I’d taken over for them. It was always knowing that it didn’t move quite right, having to pay extra attention because my fingers and feet weren’t where they were supposed to be. It was wanting to be the Beast saving and saved by Belle, but also identifying with Ariel from The Little Mermaid. It was pretending to be an animal because it felt closer to the truth. As I got into high school, though, it got scarier for me. It was feeling too small, too tight, too soft, feeling the need to dig my claws into my flesh and tear off my skin like a monster in horror movies and go screaming into the woods. It was feeling my bones itch and my teeth aching, feeling static under my skin all the time. On the worst days, it was waking up not knowing who or what or where I was and just going into auto pilot, fighting wave after wave of anxiety as ‘They’ fed me bits and pieces of who this body really belonged to. It was nightmares of being trapped, of having to navigate an ever-changing maze and knowing I would die if I couldn’t. It was feeling that the world was wrong, that I was in the wrong place, that the people around me were talking to a person that I was just pretending to be. It was derealization and dissociation and being angry when a character I identified with was referred to as a girl. (As I said, I am not a smart man.) But I never felt like I was a man. I just knew I wasn’t this. I thought I was a monster in human skin. It’s only now that I’m really paying attention that the monster isn’t trying to eat me from the inside out."

Yeah, I did also very much get the deep need to tear off my skin and let my real self out of me, like it was a caged beast. And I still want to run into the woods and never look back lol. There was definitely a strong connection to monsters, dinosaurs, aliens, robots, anything inhuman throughout my life.

I know we're far from the only kids who pretended to be animals, but it was very real to me in a way that I think was distinct. The way I walked and moved and lived it was different, like most kids tucked it away once it was time to come back to class. I was constantly lost in that other world, the other me. It could be connected to neurodivergence too, and as you stated, some of the things you experience sound like they're tied to derealization and dissociation, common things to go through as a trans person and also common for people with trauma. I never experienced anything as severe as the dissociation you're describing but I definitely understand it. And the sense of everyone around me talking to a person I was pretending to be made me feel like I lacked real depth and connections with people.

I lived in a fictional world in my head 90% of the time, and in that fictional world, I was anything but human the majority of the time. And that kinship with monsters while being trans is what drew me to create my comic Wanderlust. The monsterlover/terato community is full of trans people, and it's much more than just a kink to most of us. You're definitely not alone.

[creativity-central]

Blog 10: Mermaids

A common artist tradition held in May is Mermay. It’s nothing official, but the pun sounds nice and it lets people have an excuse to draw as many mermaids as they please, whether they be original characters or favorites turned into mermaids! So, this months post is going to be a bit more lighthearted in nature by giving some observations I’ve seen in mermaid designs that could help you in the future, and in the future Mermays to come!

There’s not a single right way to draw mermaids, as long as part of them is a human and part of them is a fish (although the human part is preferably the torso and up). In fact, it doesn’t even need to be a fish. Lots of mermaids have been created with other aquatic wildlife, but let’s start simple before we reach that point.

Talking about mermaids will almost always bring up Ariel in people’s minds, her red hair and contrasting green-blue tail are just too iconic. However, her kind of mermaid is the simplest out of the ones to be mentioned here. Her fish side has tail fins, scales, and nothing more, and she wears a purple seashell bra. Other than these two aspects of her, there is nothing separating her from a normal human being, making her design feel like two beings stitched together rather than a whole.

The point of a mermaid may be that contrasting feel, and if Ariel is the ideal design you want in a mermaid, feel free! However, when considering mermaids as an actual singular creature, and bypassing the friendly vibes needed for a children’s’ film, you can get really creative with what you put into a mermaid.

When I think of an interesting depiction of mermaids, what comes to mind is the popular web comic Castle Swimmer. Not only that, but a variety of animals are referenced when creating the people of this world, from octopi, to sharks, to hermit crabs. So how do they do it?

The first thing to note here is that, unlike the Little Mermaid, this rendition decides to include more features of the fish. Not only are the tail fins included, but there can also be other parts of fish anatomy. In these designs, the dorsal fin is logically placed on their backs. The variety of fins on a fish are essential for proper movement, so including them in these mermaid designs makes it feel more believable. Not all aquatic animals have fins, but it’s good to acknowledge this even when designing other mermaids. Including additional legs, spikes, or whatnot to create a more cohesive design rather than putting a torso and tail together could be what brings it together.

Not only that, but the animal a mermaid is based off of can influence the physical appearance and clothes worn by the human side. Remember how Ariel looked like any old human without her tail? That isn’t the case here, as you can see their skins share the same scales and colors as their fish sides. Not only that, but features such as gills, sharp teeth, and webbed hands can make your human side look like it belongs underwater. You may need to go out of your comfort zone and mess around with physical features in order to find what fits. Some characters in Castle Swimmer have elongated noses or funny mustaches to go with their creature, and you might have to make the same cartoonish choices too!

Clothes are highly influenced by a mermaid species and their culture, so up to this point it really depends on whether you want the mermaid design to be lighthearted or have a deeper meaning, whichever makes it fun! That being said, a big part of clothes is just getting experimental. Some mermaid designs implement trash into their designs because of rampant water pollution, and how actual aquatic life can get stuck and choke on littered plastic! When considering culture, think about what your animal may represent or, if you’re an animal nerd/willing to research, find out what the animals can actually do and what their lives are like. More feisty animals can have battle armor, while intelligent species can make use of complex tools alongside their outfits, the list goes on.

I hope this shed some light on how the designs of mermaids can work, and how diverse you can get with them. I hadn’t even gotten into the trend of turning mermaids into cryptic creatures due to how scary deep sea wildlife can be! There’s truly a lot to be done. Mermay is an opportunity to have fun and draw mermaids for the sake of mermaids, but it can also help exercise your creativity and go beyond your comfort zone! Even while the month comes to a close, there’s nothing stopping you from designing a mermaid any time of the year, so why not try it out now? Use some suggestions from this post, pick an animal you like, or maybe one that’s more uncommon in the mermaid community, and have fun drawing! That’s all for today, see ya around!

[corner-master]

people in the comments be saying "she was 16, she didn't have parental consent, so the contract was null and void", but that's a relatively modern thing (as in, within the last century and such). In the time period this movie was set in,->-> if Ariel had been born a human woman, <-<- she wouldn't have had the right to do anything her father didn't allow her, not because he was a king, but because as the male head of the family Ariel would have legally been considered his property. Even if she was of legal age, she would have still been his property until she was married... then she would be her husband's property.

couple of important notes before I continue:

1)In the states, the Married Women's Property Acts, which allowed married women to keep their own wages and to own property in their own name, only really got started in New York in 1848. Prior to this in 1839, Mississippi allowed women to own property with their husbands permission.

2a) in 1875, Minor vs Happersett, the Supreme Court declares that despite the privileges and immunities clause, a state can prohibit a woman from voting.

2b) 1890, Wyoming becomes the first state to allow women to vote in all elections.

3) 1981, Kirchberg vs Feenstra overturned the state laws designating a husband "head and master" with unilateral control of property owned jointly with his wife.

This, and many more laws and acts and declarations that gave and took away rights, is just what happened within the US. Which I'm pretty sure is not where the little mermaid took place, but I also don't have a clear view of other countries women's rights laws, so this is what you get. Point is, it wasn't until certain points in history that women gained specific rights equal to men. And it took a hella long time to get there.

The only way she could have circumvented this and made her own discissions was if she abandoned her home, forfeiting all rights of protection and safety that came with belonging to a family... which she did.

Ariel gained her Legs because she wanted to go to the surface and, under the romantic reasoning pushed by children's movie logic, be with the prince. Big Problem here is that Love had very little to do with marriage back then. If your parents genuinely cared about you and your thoughts and feelings, they would take your declarations of love into consideration but still have to weigh whether such a union would be beneficial to the family as a whole. Eric, being a prince, would have already had an arranged marriage with someone of presumably equal standing to strengthen his Kingdoms ties with other nations. This is supported by the original Little Mermaid where the prince had to refuse Ariel's advances and she pretty much dissolves into sea foam.

Given this was set in a fictional world with fictional ways of life, you can't really apply more than the pretty basic laws and rights attributed to those settings. Only the narrative really gets to tell you how things are and how they will go. So in the original, Ariel was denied true love so she shriveled up and blew away in the wind. In Disney's version, she married the prince.

Now, How does all this apply to Ursula?

In the Disney Version, Ursula was undoubtedly the Villain. She used predatory tactics to lure Ariel into signing a contract without understanding entirely what she had done, and then tried to hedge the deal in her favor. All of this under the premise of gaining ownership of Ariel to get back at Triton.

The problem with all this? As scummy as it was, it was all Legal. Whatever laws that may have existed in that world- in Triton's domain- meant in this instance, Ursula was in the right.

Triton literally tried to strike Ursula down, but the contract itself shielded her from the trident's power. The most powerful weapon at his disposal could do nothing against the power of the contract. The King of Atlantica, presumed ruler of the entire sea, didn't have the ability to break the contract. The only thing he could do? Was make another deal to pay the price himself.

Which was a monumentally stupid thing to do given he had six other daughters who were now also in as much danger as his 7th, let alone his kingdom and the numerous denizens that resided within the sea. Hate to break it to you all but Triton was not a good or wise ruler because he put his family, his interests, before the safety of his people.

The only reason they defeated Ursula was because Eric was able to murder her. Not sure if it was because it was a mundane object (the ship) instead of a magical one, the contract wasn't big enough or present to save her, or because Eric himself was outside the terms of the contract (meaning Triton and presumably anyone affiliated with him couldn't retaliate against her under the binding of the contract).

So what can you take away from this spicy take?

Ursula was a business woman that used cut-throat tactics to get what she wanted. It may have been morally wrong but legally she was in the right?

Society as a whole should strive to better educate themselves and their children on the risks and dangers of entering predatory contracts without looking for and understanding the hidden stipulations within said contracts and what consequences may then befall them? Especially when that deal is made with a shady woman living out in the boonies with clear signs of horrific moral integrity?

The Monarchy of the sea was ruled by a man who often made impulsive and careless decisions that negatively affected his people's lives and should not have been allowed to retain his position?

Triton was the King, But I sure didn't vote for him.

[brucewhite]

We'll Meet Beyond The Shore | Closed

Date: Early June 2024 Warnings: None

Bruce followed the currents, like he always had. He disappeared beneath the waves while Gil waved from the shore and the cool water soon soothed his nerves. That was something that had always been different about him on land; other people found warmth comforting, but to Bruce, cold water was the sign he was home. That he was where he belonged, where he didn't have to fear being hunted just for who he was.

And after years of healing and rebuilding and long walks with Doug and evenings with friends and quiet days at the bottom of the lake, Bruce felt in touch with who he was again. And he liked that person.

There was still a long way to swim once he entered the sea; kilometers to travel into deeper and darker waters. Everything looked the same, but Bruce could feel the currents guiding him along. And though he was alone, he didn't feel alone. There was a reason this route felt spiritual to his pod.

He talked to them as he swam, the voices on the currents. He asked them for help and for guidance, and to watch over his friends back on the shore. Bruce didn't know if that did anything, but he had faith the same way he hoped his friends had faith.

The moment of reunion was, of course, indescribable. The pod had made camp for the night, and for a moment, Bruce saw that they were wary. "It's me," Bruce signed, his Mermish slightly changed from the years spent communicating with shallow-water people.

In the dim underwater light, the pod stared at him. And then, out of nowhere-

"It's YOU!"

And there was a flurry of embraces and frantic movements and noises of joy, the lost son back from the dead. Changed slightly, yes, but home once more. There was so much to tell. On both sides. Bruce's adventures, yes, but also those of the pod. Bruce's niece, whose name roughly translates to "late summer sorrow" had spontaneously developed a rare gift for speaking to certain aquatic creatures. Bruce's brother had invented a new way of weaving kelp that made it easier to carry food. And then there was the beautiful mermaid Bruce had swam with four summers ago, just before he'd been taken. With a young merperson whose name translated to, "a glow in the deepest dark."

Ah, yes, she'd moved on. That made sense. Bruce was happy for her, of course, but-

"No," she told him. "He's ours."

Four summers old. Four summers he'd waited for his father to return. If Bruce were on land, he would have collapsed into tears of joy. But he was underwater, where such things weren't possible, so he just held his little family very tightly.

Something curious happened in all the excitement. A little sea cucumber inched over to Bruce's niece and asked what the commotion was. She told him, and the sea cucumber inched away, until he found a deep-sea crab. He made it home to the deep sea, the sea cucumber said. And he's got a son.

Word traveled on the waves, helped along by the currents. It made its way across the Pacific Ocean on the backs of turtles and the songs of whales. A massive albatross carried the news past the gateway to Antarctica, and a school of fish chattered about it all the way north to the Celtic Sea. He made it home to the deep sea. And he's got a son.

It was a pigeon who carried the news furthest, though, landing on a little perch by Atlantica Lake. I've heard a curious story, she chirped to a frog. A merman. He made it home to the deep sea after many years away. And he didn't even know it, but he had a son.

I wonder where he came from, thought the frog. And when he saw a human who could communicate with him, he hopped on over. Did you know there was a merman who made it home to the deep sea? he said. And he didn't even know it, but he had a son? Apparently the story's been passed along from halfway across the world. I wonder where he came from.

You probably didn't know him, the frog added. But I'm curious how the story started. Could you tell your human friends?

[millipedish]

Dang. Wishing Night got me reinvested in notfm in a way that diaries and memory in the mirror couldn't. While i enjoy the gameplay for all four game modes, the stories had a very "by the way" feel to them that took immersion away. By the way, when Red was 10 she was way more powerful than she is now. By the way, Red has a sister that no one has even mentioned before. Even the Jerry route in full moon is a "by the way" that kind of tries to retcon some of my fav characters and i still don't know how i feel about that. Wishing night is the first true sequel and it's a long time coming

It also sold me on the central ship, a little? I can't say that I ship the kids but but the tragedy is interesting to me. Red's denial is engaging. Her denial about Jerry's death and even that fact that he's a werewolf. She is such a badass in full moon and diaries, but she is just a kid who's gone through way more than she should have. It's heartbreaking to see such a strong character showing the signs of a mental breakdown.

This makes mechanic Red the only Canon Red in my hc, simply bc of my feels. Will I feel like that still later? Who knows.

Not to mention that the reused art gives me brainworms. I can't imagine why the weapon dealer has become so enthusiastic about the weapons he sells given his backstory. Unless it's a different guy? The owl shopkeeper canonically being the other shopkeepers son is a great touch. And i love seeing the apocathary again. His English voice is so great.

Also several of my favorite characters from full moon were retooled as minions, mostly for Red. Probably this is the closest I'll ever come to seeing Red and Crocdad teaming up. Au where the forest spirit is defeated but instead of transforming back, the cursed people are recruited by mechanic Red.

Not terribly impressed by the new enemies, tho I am curious about wtf is up with the orbs. I wonder if the devs will follow up on that, our of its yet another lost thread.

Also i like the mermaid and the shark. The mermaid is adorable and I want to be her friend, and the shark's PTSD symptoms are haunting. His cage is his mind :(. Makes me want to write a drabble with him and the Tin Man, who's body turned into a cage.

Also hecking curious about Queen Italis(sp?). Not only how does she connect to the plot, but all this stuff about her not being of the world and having visiting the God of wish once before. My headcanon? She was the nightingale mentioned in one of the endings. Maybe she fell in love with the king she belonged to and wished to become his wife? But idk. Would love to see other people's theories

[darkfeath3r]

Review of The Search for Delicious

Some things one appreciates more with age. I tried reading The Search for Delicious in the third grade. I only read a couple chapters before decided I didn't like it and returned it. There was a mermaid on the cover, so I was disappointed when I found out the mermaid wasn’t the main character. The main character was a human 12-year-old boy. I also found the conflict absurd. Why would adults fight over something as trivial as what food tasted the best? I was naive then; the book definitely went way over my head. Twelve years later, I read the whole thing, and I couldn't believe I missed out on such a great book.

The Search for Delicious is a 1969 children's fantasy book written by Natalie Babbit, an author better known as the writer for Tuck Everlasting. It takes place in a magical, medieval kingdom. The prime minister for the king is writing a dictionary. He tells the king his definition for the word delicious, but the king disagrees. The king, the queen, her brother, and the other castle residents offer him their own definitions for delicious. They can't decide what the most delicious thing is, so the king sends his messenger, a twelve-year-old boy named Gaylen, to travel the kingdom and ask all the citizens what they think is the most delicious thing.

Riots break out in every town the boy surveys. The queen's brother, Hemlock, uses the chaos to try to take over the kingdom. Gaylen tries to get the help of many people, including dwarves and a woldweller, an ancient forest spirit, but don't offer much help. Only a mermaid named Ardis may be able to help. I don't want to spoil everything, so I'll just say a definition for delicious is agreed upon, and the kingdom is reunited.

I love this book. I think it may be one of my favorite books, and I'm so disappointed in myself for dismissing it as a kid. I thought the idea of people fighting over a word was silly, especially for a word that's meant to describe something pleasant. And it is silly but still plausible. Stranger things have happened in real life. Anyone remember the Pig War? It wasn't really a war, but war was almost started in San Juan Island because a farmer shot a British pig. Or when The Interview almost caused World War 3? Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but still, something bad could have happened.

I think this book is more relevant now than in 1969 due to social media. People fight all the time over things that shouldn't matter especially on Twitter. People would definitely fight over what they think is the most delicious thing in the world is. Would it be enough to cause war? Maybe.

I definitely think more people should read and discuss this book. It's certainly a refreshing read in today's climate. It's entertaining, thought-provoking, endearing, and easy to read. Gaylen starts out as a carefree little boy that you feel sorry for being thrust into this ridiculously dangerous quest but grows into a smart, capable hero.

I only have one minor nitpick. The mythical creatures don't do much. They don't seem to belong to this world or care about being in this world. I guess that's because magic is dying, and each magical creature operates completely differently from human society anyway. I would just like to spend more time on the mythical creatures. But overall, it's an excellent book, and I highly recommend it.

[simblrinterests]

The Little Mermaid

There you see her Sitting there across the way She don't got a lot to say But there's something about her  🎵🎶🎵

Disney Challenge

by: @OLIVEANDOAK​​ + @SIMVICII​​

Rules: Pick your favorite Disney character, draw inspiration from said character and create a sim. It can be anything from toddler to elder, male or female. Just have fun! Make sure to tag us or use #disneychallenge so we can see what you come up with.

I was tagged by @hula-zombie!  The Little Mermaid has always been my favourite disney movie, probably because it has the best music and the best hair.  This day two sequence has always been super charming to me.  I loved when he took her around the town and taught her how to dance, and this whole moment they have in the boat.  This was super fun to do and if it interests you, feel free to say I tagged you!  I’d love to see what people come up with!