#nameless poor girl having to deal with this stupid old man...

[alsosprachvelociraptor]

old man with a cool coat yelling at his poor assistant

[scaly-freaks]

God I actually hate how racist the hotd fandom is I just got into a fight with a girl who said black (and desi) characters ‘shouldn’t ever exist, realistically’ in the show and theyre obviously doing it for diversity points

Thank god for your fics, Anya chalotra fan casts and steven

After i saw the scene of Dany lifted on a crowd of nameless and faceless brown bodies, I kind of wished they didn’t exist on either show tbh. We’re just decorations to these people, fighting for the scraps left over after the white characters get the meat of the production. Though I suppose the fun thing about HOTD is that the whole show is so bad, everyone’s character is suffering, white or poc. No one gets to shine and everyone’s dealing with a horrendous script (equality!)

On a separate note, I’m glad there aren’t desi characters in HOTD. I’d rather not see their talent squandered on this incredibly stupid fandom and this dud of a script. No offence but I think we deserve better than a Dorne George couldn’t be bothered to properly flesh out as a culture beyond poor caricatures and stereotypes. And then the ones playing servants to lily white nobles and validating their every decision because what other position would an ethnically ambiguous brown person be allowed to hold in this universe. The old man couldn’t stop talking about Arianna Martell’s seductive ways and “brown nipples” in the books and I’m supposed to be grateful for any role they toss to a desi person? Fuck outta here.

I’m desi and I could write a better script in my sleep, so why would I want desi actors struggling with scripts catered to white folk and shoddily at that? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Keep us out of it.

The dunderhead who said they were doing it for diversity points is correct. They’re probably even correct about us not existing in that world realistically. Because we are usually an afterthought for a white creator when they put something together. They have to work out where to fit us and that usually comes at the expense of treating us like supporting characters to whiteness. The Velaryons are a noble house in their own right on this show and yet they’re playing supporting characters to the Targaryens (the only none white Targs, Baela and Rhaena, are fighting for lines). It’s a mess all around and I don’t want this representation unless I, or someone who looks like me, is in control of it. Fuck the scraps.

P.S. Amara for the win ✨

[aliceaddellheidde]

His Celtic girl

A/N: This one is for @youbloodymadgenius 1K celebration. It´s first time I´m doing something like that. I lost my grandfather and bunny while writing so I´m sorry if it sucks.

Prompts in bold.

WORDS: 4869

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, smut & violence (graphic), blood, swearing, death

PAIRING: Ivar x OC (Moko)

DISCLAIMERS: I tried to be historically accurate as much as possible. I don’t hate Christians. English isn´t my first language.

Moodboard by me; pics from internet.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Moko from Mokosh – Slavic goddess of fertility & water.

Ivar awakes from his long sleep. His head is hurting like Thor hit him with his hammer. He remembers fighting. Saxon's soldier with dagger. Hvitserk in tears. Grey sky. And then dark.

When he opens his eyes he sees wooden ceiling and small window on his left. „You are finally up.” says voice from his right with foreign accent and when he turns his head that way he sees young woman sitting on a chair by fire, mixing something in kettle. He tries to sit but agonizing pain stops him. „If I was you I wouldn't move. I bet your body still hurts.” It does but he will not tell it to that girl. With clenched teeth he pushes himself up, leaning against wall. „Who … ?” he tries to say - his throat dry, voice raspy. „Who are you?” he asks after few moments. „Moko.” She smiles a little, handing him cup. He watches it suspiciously before he takes it and drinks small gulps. „You have weird name.” he snorts. „Says nameless man whose I found on battle field almost dead. With no one around. Forgotten.” „I'm the king of the world! You stupid bitch knows      nothing!” he screams, throwing cup her way, his calmness turning into anger in mere seconds. „Don’t look like king to me.” she shrugs and turns to kettle again. He´s fuming, looking for something to throw at her. All he finds is fur over his legs. Fuck. Did she see them? „Why am I here anyway? You said I was dead. How I could be when I'm here, hm?” he asks with scorn. She said nothing. „Answer me! Where am I? Where is my brother!” He punches wooden bed under him. „I don’t know. My dog found you and I took you to my home. Now I think it was a mistake.” She was standing with hands on her hips. „I don’t need your help! I can take care of myself!” „Go then! I don’t give damn if you do!” she screams, stepping closer to him. He sees red. „At least I will not have to take care of crippled idiot!” He throws himself onto her but she just swiftly moves away from him, hand on sword. He almost screams from pain as his body hit the floor. Yet he stops    himself, spitting blood her way. Then he finally looks at her properly.

She is short, long dark hair falling to her waist, dressed in light yellow dress with golden armoured corset, belt around hips with few small pouches and sword scabbard. Her widen eyes watching him like falcon. He moves again and she unsheathes her weapon. ,,You are not gonna kill me.” he smirks. ,,No, but I can still hurt you.” They are watching each other for few more minutes before she puts sword away, takes cloth from table and cautiously sits next to him on the floor. He flinches when her hand moves to his face to wipe blood away. „Look, I took you here to take care of you. Once you are healed, you can leave. But until then it's better for you to stay with me.” She smiles when he lowers his head to avoid her gaze. ,,Ivar.” he whispers. ,,I'm sorry?” „My name is Ivar.” ,,You have weird name.” He only chuckled. ,,How about you take bath and I finish food? Then we can talk.” He looks at his useless legs and back at her. ,,Oh, I will give you some privacy.” She turns away with flushed face but he stops her. ,,Wait. I ... I need your help.” He already hates idea of her touching him or seeing him naked but he has no other choice. ,,So now you need my help?” she teases. ,,Shut up.”

She goes for water while he is looking around her home. There is big fire pit in the middle of room, on right side of room is wooden table with different knives, daggers, food, plates, bowls and cups. Next to it is longer lower table with wooden benches and flowers on it. On left side is his bed and then hutch with different herbs, flowers, books and bottles. Ivar never saw material like that.

„It´s glastos. Or how they call it here in Anglia – glass.” says Moko when she comes back with two buckets of water. „We are still in Wessex?” „Sussex. But I always wanted to travel around the world. Meet new people and try new things.” „So are you Christian then?” „Oh Gods, no!” she laughs. „You are not Viking either. Then what are you?” He watches her as she is moving around house. She takes few herbs and puts them into tub and then fills it with boiling water. „I'm from old Celtic tribe called Anartes. We lived in Europe. But one day my family decided that we should move and so we did. I lived here with my parents and brother. But they are all dead. And now it´s my purpose to keep our legacy alive. And what about you Ivar?” „I'm Viking.” „Rus´ Viking?” „No. I´m from Norway. How do you know about the Rus?” „My people had deals with them. We   exchanged animals, food and other stuff.” „Have you ever been in Kiev or Novgorod?” „No. But my father was there once.” „They are Christians now.” „Poor people. How do you know them?” „I had to r… . I travelled there with my friend. But then my brother came for me to fight king Alfred. We had some unfinished business.” „You were talking about you brothers in your dreams. Asking one of them for forgiveness. His name is Hvitserk. Am I right?” Ivar is quiet. „I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe they imprisoned him or he died.” „My brother is not dead!” he screams and she jumps a bit. „You don’t know that.” „I have to save him. Like he saved me.” „You are so stubborn! When I found you I thought you were dead but you were breathing still. I took care of you for three bloody days and you are still wounded. Yet you want to go to Winchester and be hero for your brother?” she wasn't screaming but she was angry. „That´s exactly what I want to do.” he half-smiled. „And how? You don’t have an army. You will never break through their defence.” His upper lip twitches in indignation because she is right. „I can´t leave him there. What would you do if it was your brother?” „Saved him.” „See?” „But not if I was hurt and with no warriors.” „Then we will find some.” „Ivar, these people are Christians and they love Alfred because he won over The great heathen army. They will never defraud him.” „We will see about it.” „In few days I´m  going to Chichester. I can ask if someone knows what happened to survived Vikings.” „I'll go with you.” She sighted and checked water temperature. „I have few conditions if you want to go with me.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „What do you want from me?” „You will sit on your arse and will not try to investigate on your own or try to kill anybody. Deal?” „Deal.” „Great. Now come and have a bath.”

„Earlier you said I´m crippled idiot. How did you know?” Ivar asks while he takes his tunic off. „Well, I had to take your braces off of your legs and I saw them.” He frowns at her. „Help me with trousers. But keep your eyes on my face.” he growls. „Is there a problem I saw them?” she asks as her small hands untie strand from around his hips. „They are hideous.” „I don’t really care about it.” Her brown-green eyes bore into his blue ones. „What do you care about then?” „If I and my animals will be healthy and if we will have enough food, water and home. And overall if I will have long, happy life.” „That´s so deep.” Ivar rolls his eyes. „Stop mocking me. I like simple life.” She helps him into tub, avoiding looking at him, gives him cloth and walk back to kettle. „Have you ever been with a man?” he asks suddenly. „Why?” „You are shy. Can´t even look at me when I´m naked. So I assumes you are still virgin.” he has wicked smile on his face. „That´s not something you need to know.” „Hm, maybe.” he smirks. „I also want to know what is all that.” He points on herbal hutch. „That´s my work. I´m making potions, herbal remedies and different things from it for other people.” „Clever girl.” „Yes, I´m.” She straightens her back and he laughs at her. „What did you put in bath?” „Lavender. You can make oil from it and eat it.” Ivar thoughtfully takes herb from water and bits a small bite. And second later she smacks his head. „Not from that dirty water! That´s    disgusting.” „I don’t like the taste anyway.” he frowns. „You didn’t try my lavender cake.” „I need proper food. Meat. Not some stupid cakes.” „It´s almost ready. Better wash your hair and come  eat.” When he goes out of the tub she hands him clean towel and clothes, averting looking at him again. „Virgin.” he murmurs for himself.

Over lunch – deer with plum sauce – they get to know each other. He tells her about his life, family and wars, hiding some details he´s ashamed of, and is pleasantly surprised how excited she is. „My parents taught me and my brother how to fight. My mother was warrior alongside my father.” „I usually had few my the most trustworthy warriors for my protection. I can´t really move on legs but in hand-to-hand combat I´m perfect.” „Maybe we can learn from one another.” „Maybe.”

After food Ivar meets all her animals and she shows him her gardens. Few metres from them is river with small boat. „It´s yours?” „Yes.” „It looks funny. I was on massive ones. My friend Floki built them. This one here is just joke.” „Ivar I swear that if you make any more stupid comments about my things I´ll leave you outside!” „Oh come on darling. You wouldn't do that. Not after your hard work.” He twirls slowly around his stick and bows. „You even put lavender oil into my hair.” He tosses his braids over shoulder. She laughs so much that she misses how he´s looking at her with goofy smile.

*few days later*

Ivar feels movement next to him and sits with dagger in hand. „It´s just me, you idiot.” says Moko, ruffling his hair on way down. „It´s still dark! Can´t we sleep a bit longer?” he shouts after her. „No. Today we´re going to Chichester so you better come for breakfast.”

In those couple of days he lived with Moko he learnt a lot about her, her people and culture. She was teaching him how to speak in her language, she showed him all her herbs and flowers and her knowledge in fighting, manufacture and farming. He wasn´t really fond of all of those things but he liked how excited she was when she was speaking about them or doing them. And if he tries those things too, oh gods, she even hugs him. It felt good.

Ivar is seating in covered carriage, petting her dog and listening to her singing. They travels for hours now with only one break and Ivar needs to sleep but he can´t. He somehow wants to protect her even when he doesn’t know why and how. „We will settle down here. Tomorrow morning we are in Chichester.” Her voice interrupts him from his thoughts. He looks out from carriage into darkening countryside. „Don´t just stare. Bring the chicken and make fire. If your puny regal ass can do that.” she smirks and starts to build a tent. Ivar is used to it by now, nonetheless he is surprised with how much ease she´s talking to him. He did what he could but that damn fire not and not to burst to life. „I thought you Vikings are fearful people and you can´t even make fire. Want some help?” He blames his shaking hands on cold not her presence. She makes fire in mere moments and then put kettle on it. „We will have chicken stew with vegetable and mushrooms. Is it ok?” He nods and watches with dilated pupils when she knocks off the poor bird. „It´s the last time I can have chicken or rabbit before Ostara.” „Then what?” „Bath in spring water, sacrifice hare and chicken but leave eggs for altar. We will have flower crowns and we will sow few seeds.” „Oh no, no. Leave me out of this. I will not have flowers in my hair.” „It will be fun.” „I doubt it.” „Shush and cut this please.”

Ivar sees stone towers and soldiers guarding big gate into Chichester. They are watching them suspiciously until Moko asks them for direction to market. „Don´t forget your name.” she warns him when she´s helping him out of carriage. „Leofric. I know.” he rolls his eyes. „Try to be more nice. Smile.” He turns to her and smile. Then smirks when she blushes. „I will find us room to sleep and you can put things on table. And leave your hood on.” „Gods woman! I´m not a child.” She giggles and walks away.

„We have room for three nights … Leofric, let him go!” Moko rushes to him and tries to separate him from another young man. „He tried to steal!” says Ivar. „I just wanted to see it better.” protests the other man, still with Ivar´s hand around neck. Moko smacks it and he growls at her but let go. „Thank you milady.” The other man tries to kiss her hand but she turns it palm up. „Return that bottle you stole. You may hurt yourself with it.” She waits few seconds and when nothing happens she jumps at poor man, turns his arm behind his back and yanks bottle from his hand. Ivar watches her with awe on his face. „Get off, idiot.” she spat at pathetic man and they both laugh when he runs away.

„That´s not funny Moko.” says Saxon soldier, walking to them. „Osgar, welcome.” „I see you keep up with tradition.” he snickers. „Every year someone tries something. They knows I can protect myself and my stuff but still.” „And you brought some friend.” He looks at Ivar sitting on stool. „That´s Leofric. I´m taking care of him.” „What happened?” „Bear in forest.” Ivar snorts. „I can say God is with him when he found the best healer in whole Anglia.” „Stop it Osgar!” Moko blushes again. „Rather tell me what happened after battle. Last time you didn’t have time.” „There is not much to say. We captured survivors and turned them into Christians. They live in their settlements. Our king trusts them.” „And you don’t?” He smirks. „I kind of envy those whose ran away. You knows my parents were Vikings, right? I live for day I will leave this land and will live like them.” he says quieter and looks around if someone hears him. „Adventurous Osgar. Any news about their kings?” „As far as I know Harald and Ivar are dead. But one son of Ragnar lives with Alfred in Winchester. I don’t know his real name. But his given one is Athelstan.” „Thank you. And what about your family?” „Good. My little girl is fighting with everyone and my wife isn´t very happy about it. My son still has mark on his face. He´s on guard now and I should replace him. See you later.” Day goes well, some of Moko´s customers comes and after sunset they goes to tavern for good night sleep.

„There is only one bed!” Ivar exclaims when they enter the bedroom. „Afraid of sleeping with me?” „What? No!” He puts their belongings on table, trying to calm down his too loud beating heart. „I'm going to have a bath. You will be ok here?” He nods. She disappeared behind the curtain  and he´s listening to her movements and noises she makes when she dives into warm water.

Moko feels water in the tub move. When she opens her eyes she sees Ivar sitting next to it. „What are you doing?” she squeaks. Ivar chuckles. „What does it look like? I have to wash as well. Or you want me dirty in bed?” She sinks more into water, only her head visible. He puts his hands into water again and his fingers brush her calf. She freezes and he smirks. „Your skin is so soft.” And she's blushing again. But both can play this game. „Will you wash my hair, please?” she asks innocently and his hand pauses in the middle of his face, eyes wide, shining. „Are you sure? I never done this.” Moko moves to him. „Please.” She turns her back to him and he clumsily takes her hair in one hand while the other is putting soap on it. Then he moves to her scalp. „That fells nice.” When he's done he smooths it on her back, his fingers lightly touching her skin. „Thank you. Give me a minute and you can go in as well.” She quickly rinses her head. „Close your eyes.” „Why?” „I have to go out and you can´t see me.” „I saw many naked women.” She glares at him over shoulder. „Fine.” But of course he cheated. He watches as she stands up and puts on linen tunic. After that she helps him in tub, she washes his hair and gives him his clothes.

„I said to the owner of this tavern that you are my husband.” says Moko nonchalantly when they are tuck in bed under warm duvet. „What!?” He sits up and frowns. „So we can have same room” ,,You are little minx.” he laughs and move closer to her. ,,What are you doing?” ,,Keeping us warm.” She turns her back to him, hiding her face into pillow. ,,Good night little minx.” he smiles into dark.

They wake up tangled at each other limbs. Moko tries to get up but Ivar´s arms around her are too strong. He nuzzles her hair and murmurs something. ,,Ivar, we have to go and sell otherwise we will have no money.” He groans when he opens his eyes. ,,I'll come later and brings you breakfast.” ,,You better be quick.” She kisses his cheek, throws her clothes on and she's gone. Ivar is still frozen on the bed processing what just happened.

,,I have bread, meat and wine.” ,,Oh, you are saviour! I'm starving.” He gives her plate with a cup on it. ,,Where is your food?” ,,I ate. Have only one hand free.” He waves with his right one and she grins at him. ,,Is it ok if you work until I finish?” ,,Sure.” He sells few pots and potions already when Osgar comes to them. ,,Hello you two.” ,,Good morning. Do you need something?” Moko asks. ,,Just to say you the news.” ,,What news?” ,,King Alfred will come here in five days to deal with Vikings in prison.” Moko sees Ivar stiffs. ,,Thank you. What do you think he will do to them?” ,,Probably gives them an option between conversion or death.” „And do you know if Viking´s prince will come too? I would like to see him.” He shrugs and goes back doing his work. „We need a plan how to get my brother and leave this stupid country.” „You don’t wanna kill       Alfred?” „Of course I want! But as you said, I need an army. I avenged death of my father on his grandfather and now I´ll avenge my own death on him.” „And rule Wessex?” „Maybe?” „Good luck then.” „You will not stay with me?” „I want to explore the world.” „If you will help me with Alfred I´ll give more treasure than you will ever need for fulfil your dream.” She looks at him sceptically. „Really?” „Word of the prince.” „I will think about it.”

„That one next to king on left is my brother Hvitserk.” Ivar whispers into her ear when Alfred comes to Chichester. „You remember our plan?” „Yes.”

They have to wait until next day but when Hvitserk comes to Moko´s stall she's nervous. He's handsome as Ivar but with lighter hair. They talk about different herbs for his problems and then she takes small dagger from her sleeve. „Prince Hvitserk, your brother Ivar wants you to have this.” „My brother is dead. I saw him fall in battle.” „I can assure you he's alive.” „How can I trust you?” „Because she's telling you the truth my brother.” says Ivar from shadow behind her. Hvitserk flinches a bit and can´t believe his eyes. „You are a witch! This is some stupid trick. My brother is dead!” „You see he's not.” Hvitserk slowly walks to Ivar and then he suddenly hugs him with teary eyes. „You fucking idiot! How comes gods saved you?” „They sent Moko. She took care of me.” Hvitserk looks at her and she smiles at him. „Nice to meet you.”

*month later in Winchester*

Ivar is excited all morning as helps Moko with selling. He sees men Hvitserk told him they are their allies when they walks around courtyard. They planned everything carefully. It took some time to collect enough men for attack to Winchester royal villa.

Once the night falls they moves. Quietly under veil of darkness their backups shoots guards on walls and at the gate and they are inside dim corridor. Hvitserk comes out from his hiding spot in kitchen with few warriors and silently they go forward to king´s chambers. His legs hurt and he's cursing on himself because Moko told him to rest during day but he didn’t listen. He sees her in the front of the group with plaited hair, sword ready for fight, serious look on painted face. Beautiful, clever and dangerous. That's what she is. Hvitserk is next to her eating something he stole from   kitchen.

Villa is suspiciously soundless and Ivar is suspicious. He feels it in his bones. It´s several minutes after they killed guards and until now they didn’t meet any more nor there was horn signal. For sure someone found bodies. But they have to do it. Even if it´s trap.

They reach their destination and Osgar goes first. The room is dark, only light from candles elucidate it. Ivar gives signal to his men and they encircle bed. Another signal and they are penetrating it with their swords. At same moment all other three doors of the room open and Alfred runs in with his soldiers, attacking mercilessly. Ivar watches as his warriors die one by one,        outnumbered. „Fight! Fight!” he screams, killing Saxons on his way to Alfred. Then everything freezes as he watches Moko moving between soldiers like air, sword and axe wet from their blood. One of Alfred´s bodyguards cuts her cheek and she stabs him in the neck, decapitating another one with other hand. Now she's face to face with king. What nobody awaits is Elsewith with sword assaulting Moko. English woman cuts her deep into hip when axe, thrown by Ivar, cuts through her back right after. His raging scream encourages his men. He assaults Alfred with blazing fury, maniac urge in the eyes. He effectively disarms young king, cuts his neck, fresh blood splashes him. Ivar throws himself onto Alfred stabbing him with all his power, shouting in old Norse, breathing heavy air with smell of sweat, dead bodies and taste of iron. Surviving Saxons watch in disbelieve and fear before they meet same fate from his fellow Vikings.

Things happens so quickly after that. One moment he is in king´s chamber, then he´s fighting his way from villa and in carriage fleeing into safety. He can feel adrenaline flows through his veins. Hvitserk sits opposite him, covered in blood too. They smile at each other. Moko´s next to him, patching her wound. „We did it.” he says victoriously and suddenly kisses her. She doesn’t protest and he's happy.

Following three months they are travelling and stealing all over Anglia. After that they build boats for way home. Night before their departure Ivar and Hvitserk are sitting by fire, enjoying peaceful quiet. „Will you go back to Norway or you´ll stay with Moko?” asks Hvitserk. „I don’t know what are you talking about brother. Of course I´m going with you!” „Are you sure Ivar? I see how you are looking at her.” Ivar glares at his laughing brother. „She doesn’t want to stay with me. She wants to travel.” „Then I´m gonna tell her i´ll accompanish her.” He turns to leave when a cup hits his head. „Don´t you dare!” Ivar screams. „Why not? She's free woman. Maybe I´ll ask her to marry me.” Hvitserk walks slowly backward with smirk, watching Ivar crawling on the ground as fast as he can to Moko´s tent.  

She walks out of it at same time as they show up. „Hello boys. Can I help you?” „Ivar wants to speak with you.” Hvitserk blurts out and Ivar hits him in the ankle. „Sure. I just need to get some food.” „I will get it. You two have fun.” „Come in then.” Moko smiles at Ivar.

„What you wanna talk about?” she asks, sitting next to him on bed. „Are you really sure you want to leave Anglia? And travel by yourself?” he asks straight away. „We spoke about it. I have small crew, you know.” „I know. It´s just … I don’t trust them that much. I would like to have you next to me more.” „As your friend, bodyguard or …?” „My right hand.” He looks at her. „And as my queen too, maybe?” She´s quietly staring at him and in next moment her lips are on his, her soft body collides with his hard one as they fall on bed.

His hands are on her hips, pushing her more and more against his prick. She takes off his tunic, her fingers grazing his tattoos. „You like them?” She nods and kisses him again. „Have you ever done this?” „No.” „Let me make you feel good then.” He is nervous like never before but also determined to do it right, to show her he really cares about her. His fingers are trembling when he unties her dress and takes it off. She tries to hide from his curious eyes but he catches her hands, kissing them and putting them next to her. „You are beautiful.” He kisses her whole shivering body until he reaches her warm core. When he looks back at her she's watching him already with flushed cheeks. They hold their gaze when his tongue touches her and she lifts a bit from bed. He's not  stopping her, only diving his head deeper. She's making those small noises he knew were good sign. „Ivar.” she moans his name. „I want more.” He hovers over her, kissing her. „If it hurts too much, you have to stop me, ok? I might not be able to control myself.” „Ok.” „Do you trust me?” „Yes.” He pushes slowly in her tight hole and kisses her tears away. „I'm sorry my Queen.” Her nails scratches his back, leaving bloody marks when he bottoms up. He waits few moments, then moves slowly, searching for any clues of her discomfort. None appears. She even smiles at him slightly. „Feels good?” „Yeah, it´s nice.” „Should I move faster, or is this fine?” „I have no idea!” she laughs. „You are the one with experiences.” „Yeah, right.” He nuzzle into her neck, his hips hitting hers as he quickens and she surprisingly pushes against him.

They are lost in their own pleasurable world, they didn’t even notice Hvitserk when he comes with food. He smirks proudly and walks away.

***

„I never thought I will love someone again but it happened.” Ivar smiles in Moko´s hair as they lies under warm furs, her head on his chest. „You love me?” „Yes. You have bewitched me, body and soul. My Celtic girl.” „I love you too Ivar.”

*next day*

A storm comes from nowhere and Moko´s watching as ship with Vikings is burning from     lightning strike. „Can´t we help them somehow?” „I'm sorry my love. They are probably all dead by now.” But much to his own surprise he can see some men jumping into the sea. „If I´ll die saving those idiots, I´m going to annoy you in Valhalla forever.” „And I will enjoy every second of it, my king. Now go and be a hero.” He kisses her briefly and then shuts orders. At the end they saves ten men but loose control over own boat.

***

„Land! Land!” Ivar hears shouting and stands up to see if it´s really true. „Not really how I imagined my travels but it´s still new land to explore.” Moko says next to him, hugging him. „Our new start my Queen.”

She turns in his embrace as they are looking towards their new adventures.

[milstrim]

You’re My Kid Too

Day 2: "Pick Who Dies"| Collars| Kidnapped

Mr. Stark was going to be so pissed. She was sure of it. Getting kidnapped was one thing, but allowing for Morgan to be taken too was a whole other level. She'd been babysitting for the day, taking Morgan out for a day at the Central Park Zoo as she tried to adjust to the newly repopulated world and Mr. Stark's new family. But something had happened when they'd been looking at the penguins, and she couldn't exactly remember what it was other than the hissing of gas and the whoosh! of doors clanging closed.

But then she'd woken up, cold except for a small and warm body clinging onto her desperately as it cried. She'd realized quickly that it was Morgan, and that they definitely weren't in the zoon anymore.

"Morgan?" she'd whispered in the dark, and the girl had frozen before gripping onto harder.

"Penny, Penny!" she'd cried, and Penny had sat up, wincing at the soreness in her side, and scooping Morgan into her lap, "I thought--I thought you were gone again and I didn't wanna be alone!"

She shushed the girl placatingly, "It's okay, it's okay. We're gonna be alright, okay? You just gotta be the strong girl you always are, right?" Morgan had nodded, "Good, okay, do you know how long we've been here?" She'd shrugged, "Okay, that's alright. Have you seen anyone?"

"No."

"Okay, if someone comes in you get behind me, alright? Just sit behind me and stay quiet, can you do that?"

"Yeah," Morgan had affirmed. The girl had struck true to her word when a woman had entered the room a few hours later, hiding behind her legs as the girl stood up to face their kidnapper.

The woman smiled at the two of them, and honestly, this wasn't who Penny had been expecting. She was small, barely taller than Penny herself, middle-aged, and slightly overweight. She dressed like a high school English teacher, with a short pixie cut that had turned gray, the only remnants of her original hair color being the few strands of black.

She'd gone on about revenge and the Avengers causing the loss of her own child, and really, Penny felt for her, but kidnapping a five year-old wasn't the way to go. Then the woman had left, leaving behind a small brown bag that ended up being two water bottles and ham and cheese sandwiches that she nibbled on before handing one to Morgan.

That had been two days ago, and while protecting Morgan was on the top of her to-do list, she hadn't been quite prepared for how hard it would be to entertain her, especially when she would randomly go into fits crying for her parents and Penny could do nothing but hold her. She must've played patty cake a thousand times, struggling to remember the rhyme and having to force herself to be gentle with the preschooler in front of her.

Three meals were delivered a day, and there was a toilet in the corner of the room that she thought must be an old prison room, so overall it could be worse conditions. They weren't being tortured, they were being fed, and were at least together, though they probably both smelled since they hadn't had a shower since they'd arrived.

Penny kept telling herself to wait, to lay low like Mr. Stark had always told her to do if she got kidnapped, to let him come and rescue them, and at first she had been prepared to do that, to hunker down and wait while she was with Morgan, but two days turned to six, and then nine, each night growing colder and all she could do was hug Morgan tighter.

But then she couldn't hug Morgan.

On the ninth day the woman returned, this time with two other people with solemn expressions, and Penny had immediately pressed Morgan behind her at the tingle running up and down her spine.

"Step away," the woman ordered, the bars of the cage opening with a clang!

"No," Penny said, putting steel into her voice.

"You don't have to be more involved than you already are dear," the woman said gently, as though a doting mother to her, and Penny scowled, "I don't know who you are. A nanny or a babysitter, some poor intern who got dragged into this, but I don't want to hurt you."

"And why not? You seem fine with hurting a five year-old. She hasn't even gone to kindergarten yet! If you think she has any part of the Avengers then you're either insane or stupid. I'm leaning towards the latter."

"Step aside," she said again, a little more sternness in her voice.

"No."

"Step aside."

"She's a kid!"

"She's the daughter of a murderer, and he will feel the same pain I did."

Penny's eyes shifted to the ground, hesitant but sure, she sighed, "Fine."

"What?" The woman sounded beyond surprised.

"Fine! He can feel that pain, but not through Morgan."

"How do you--"

"You think he trusts just anybody with his daughter? Some random nanny after how many people have tried to kill him? And why do you think a teenager would be nannying her? You don't think he'd hire some really professional lady?" Penny ranted, and she could feel Morgan's arms wrap around her leg, squeezing her as she cried. She wished she could comfort her, but if she wanted Morgan to be safe, she had to put all her attention into this.

"What do you mean?" the woman asked, readjusting her glasses and giving her a once over.

"I mean Tony Stark likes me. We've known each other for years and he takes care of me and him and my aunt basically share custody of me. If you--" she swallowed, "If you hurt me, then he'll feel the same pain, but you won't have to hurt Morgan."

"And how do we know this is true?" the man behind the still nameless woman asked. For the first time since they'd arrived, she turned to Morgan.

"Morgan, what are we?" she asked gently, and Morgan sniffed.

"Sisters."

Penny turned back around, point-fucking-proven (even if it was technically a lie), to look at the shocked and calculating faces. After a tense minute, the woman finally reached a conclusion, smiling a little as she looked at her.

"Okay, works for me. We'll send it to Stark, and if what you're saying is true--and you don't fight back--then the kid will be safe. Deal?"

"Deal," Penny agreed without hesitation. They beckoned for her to leave the cell, and she began to move forward, but Morgan continued to clutch onto her harder.

"No! NO! PENNY!! DON'T GO!!" the girl cried, sobbing hysterically, but Penny had to go, she had to keep Morgan safe. Glancing between the impatient faces and Morgan's snot-covered and crying one, she kneeled down, prying the little hands away from her leg as gently as she possibly could.

"It's okay. It's okay, Morggie. Remember what I said about being brave?" A nod, "Good. Just, try and be calm, and it'll be okay. I'll make it okay."

"Promise?"

Penny hesitated, but Morgan's eyes were too wide and too smart and too much exactly like Mr. Stark's, "I promise. Pinky promise."

She held out her pinky, and Morgan accepted, tears still leaking out of her eyes as Penny stood up and stepped out of the small cell, allowing for her hands to be cuffed behind her back. She kept eye contact with Morgan the entire time, trying for a smile and not looking away until she was moving and down the hallway.

She was right about it being an old prison, the walls crumbling stone and covered in frost. She knew it was winter, but wherever they were it was cold. And every step away from Morgan became colder and colder until she was finally led into a room with a singular metal chair and a camera pointed at it.

The next few hours were some of the worst of her life.

  Penny was dumped back into her and Morgan's cell the next day, barely aware of the world around her. After their little homemade video in which Penny had done her very best assuring Mr. Stark that Morgan was okay and that she was keeping her safe, she'd been left chained to the chair in the room while they sent it or whatever. She guessed they were just being extra careful about not being found, but it had sucked.

Nothing in this place was particularly comfortable, but that chair and that freezing empty room with the knowledge of Morgan alone barely a hallway over was the worst part of all of it. Yet she didn't want Morgan to see her the way she was right now.

Her arms and hands were coated in red that was dried and sticky, her lips blue and the hair atop her head--so thick and desperately in need of a cut--was still damp and clung to her skin. There were cuts and burns littering her body, and she knew she must look a mess, a true horror to the girl once again crying and pulling at her hair to try and get her to move.

"Penny? Penny, please. Wake up! If-If I have to be brave, you do too!" Morgan practically begged, and she began to stir, forcing herself onto her arms and knees, collapsing onto the barred wall instead. Morgan stared at her, scared and timid.

"It's okay, Morggie. I'm okay, see, I'm right here," Penny tried to assure, "You're doing so good. So good. Just--just be brave for a little longer, okay?"

"How much longer?"

"Not long."

And it wouldn't be. They couldn't stay here. Penny had held them off with the promise of torturing her instead, but these people were crazy, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they moved onto Morgan. The couldn't wait any longer.

  The teen didn't even wait a day. She waited until the next morning when they were afforded their stupid sandwiches and water that she would throw out the stupid window if it weren't for the hunger that clawed at her chest.

The woman, different than the short and stout ringleader, approached with their bags of food. Penny was still sitting on the bars, waiting, limp and unsuspecting, until they were close enough. She struck out, grabbing their foot and easily unbalancing them. Quick as a shot, she stood up and punched them through the bars, letting her drop to the floor unconscious.

Morgan yelped in surprise, staring at the woman crumpled on the ground. But then she clapped, "Are we leaving?"

"Yep. We're going home, Mongoose," she affirmed.

"Back to Mommy and Daddy?"

"Back to Mommy and Daddy."

Morgan smiled, and then they were walking down the hallways. Morgan carried the little brown bags of food as they stalked through the hallway, Penny on edge as she escorted them to the door. They managed to not come across anyone, which was good, because Penny doubted she could fight at this point. She was limping and tired to the bone, her right arm swollen and her eye still black. If it came down to it, she'd take someone down, but they needed to get out as quick as possible.

But when they finally found the door, she hesitated. It was freezing, beyond cold. Now don't get her wrong, she knew what cold was like, New York was plenty freezing during the winter, but now she wore nothing but a shirt and jeans, as well as a hoodie wrapped around her waist. And it wasn't just cold, Penny didn't do well in the cold, it was a storm. Penny did doubley worse in a storm.

It wasn't snow that rained down, but freezing sleet and pouring rain that thundered against the slick pavement outside. She gulped. This was bad, but they couldn't stay here. Maybe...maybe she could find a way to contact Tony, but then she'd be caught, and then Morgan would be tortured. And if this was an old prison, then, well, there had to be some kind of society around.

She weighed her chances, and then she weighed Morgan's chances. Outside was better for Morgan but worse for her, so outside it was.

"Are we going out there? It looks scary," Morgan mumbled. Penny knelt down at eye level with her sister.

"I know it does, but we have to go out, okay? We'll find Daddy and Mommy out there."

"Uncle Rhodey too?"

"Especially Uncle Rhodey," Penny affirmed, taking her hoodie and putting it on Morgan, "I'm gonna carry you, can you keep the food safe for me?"

"Yeah!" Morgan said, brightening at the thought of helping.

"Great," she said, picking the girl up with a pained grunt, "Let's go."

  The cold, to put it simply, stinked.

It tore at her cuts, burning and freezing. It soaked her to the bone, wrapped her in nothing but frost and ice, making her feel as though she were trapped at the bottom of a lake during winter. And Penny's inability to keep herself warm certainly didn't help. She couldn't shiver and she couldn't warm up, the most she could do was hold Morgan close to her and hope to God that she was as dry and warm as she could possibly be.

Morgan was a trooper though. Barely complaining, only ever asking how long until they were home twice, which was considerable constraint for a five year-old. Apparently the answer to when they'd get home--or at least at a town--was four hours. Four hours of trudging over wet, slushy ground. Four hours of wandering until she found railroad tracks to follow. Four hours until a house finally appeared through the gray storm.

"Morgan, look. A house!" she choked out in relief at the sight of it. She heard Morgan let out a pitiful cry in response, and Penny could do nothing but continue to stumble forward. There were a few more houses surrounding it, but she stuck with the nearest one, ducking between the cars and stumbling onto the porch.

Her vision was hazy as she rang the doorbell, hugging Morgan tighter to her. Due to the late hour it took a few minutes for someone to answer, the door finally being flung open by an old woman, who gaped at them in shock.

"Please..." Penny begged, "2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2..."

When Penny passed out, making sure to land on her back and not Morgan, she was still repeating those numbers, mumbling as the woman screamed in surprise. She really hoped she remembered the number.

  Tony stared intently at the girl in front of him. She was still pale, even after being in the Medbay for two days, though her cuts and burns had thankfully healed. Hypothermia was the kicker, but he knew she'd push through. She had too.

Morgan had managed to full recover, which made sense. She hadn't been blue when he'd found her, well, when he'd gotten a call in the middle of the night from some lady in Canada saying that two girls had shown up on her doorstep repeating his number. His heart had leapt in joy, in relief. He'd gotten the video of Penny being tortured barely a few hours earlier, and it had been the worst experience of his life.

He'd thrown up, unable to take Penny's cries telling him that Morgan was safe all the while she hadn't been.

His kids being taken had been a truly crippling experience, especially with no contact. He'd begun to break by day five of no contact, and when he'd gotten that video of Penny, he'd almost been relieved, and it made him sick. Whoever had taken Penny, well, he'd been playing right into their hands.

But Penny had escaped, had taken Morgan and run at the first sign of real danger, and he couldn't be more grateful to have one kid in his lap and the other laying in front of him. Though he'd prefer Penny be awake.

Like his thoughts had summoned her, she blinked awake within the next few minutes. Her heart rate picked up as she looked around the room, then calmed down as she caught sight of him. She smiled sleepily.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," she greeted, "Is she okay?"

"She's great. What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Morgan's safe. She's safe, Mr. Stark."

"I know, Penny. I know," he assured, moving to grip her hand, "And now you're safe too, okay? Even though you walked through -20 degree weather knowing you can't keep warm."

"I thought the cold would get me," she admitted, "But they were going to go for Morgan next. They were going to hurt her."

His hand shook, "They hurt you. And you're my kid too, Penny." She looked at him with wide eyes, so he carried on, "You're my kid, just like Morgan. So please know you gave me a heart attack."

"Oh, I already knew that, Mr. Stark. Not the--not the kid part. But the uh, heart part."

He smiled, shaking his head. Sniffing in disdain, he pressed a kiss to her head, cupping Morgan closer to himself so as to keep her from waking up, "Whatever, kid. Just know that I love you and go back to sleep."

She smiled, and blinking tiredly, she drifted once more.

[arachnexdragoon]

What was the toughest thing you had to do to survive?

That question gave Aranea pause –toughest thing to survive? She had a list of them, to be honest, and thedragoon could go about it alphabetically or chronologically. As a kid, stealinga piece of bread to eat before shop owners caught her was pretty tough; whenshe was a bit older, fighting against the snake poison and refusing to diebefore she had done anything was also another badass moment. Then leaving home,as the youngest in a band of ruthless mercenaries, slaying daemons and beaststwice her size and ten times more dangerous…

Then dealing with lewd tipsters, and tuning the abuse out soshe wouldn’t return empty-handed to her siblings to suffer a worse fate attheir hands. Maybe even the astral wars, where she went against a fucking deityto ensure she wouldn’t freeze to death or be hanged for a failure. AraneaHighwind’s life had been an endless trial for survival, now she thought aboutit – she just didn’t give a lot of thought to that; she had never anotheroption, after all.

But now she went back through all these memories, one of themstood out. The dragoon had never seen herself as someone inherently kind orgood – Niflheim didn’t allow for it; her brothers reinforced that the idea ofnurturing these feelings was stupid. And when Aranea was younger, she did feela degree of empathy towards people sometimes – the close-knit hunter communitymade she wonder about that kind of bond, if it truly was possible to havesomeone who’d have your back; the sense of comradery in the army looked likesomething better than what she had, too (she would later know it was bullshit –at least within Niff ranks).

But that one time, where Adrastos found them an unusual jobwith a lot of money in – recover the missing heir of a considerably wealthy familyin Lestallum. It had been the typical sob story: happy couple with a singlechild, only the father died in the first years of the war; the mom remarried,but the stepfather was not caring or kind and only after the money… Which wouldnot be his because of the will the mother left when she died. And their kid, abeautiful, innocent and doe-eyed eleven year old, had fled from their home whenshe found herself alone with her stepdad.

So they had been hired to find her and bring her back home –where she rightfully belonged, their contractor explained. And Aranea knew justwhat he meant – she was familiar with the look. She had seen it on the face oftipsters and soldiers and other men; she knew that girl was doomed to feelunsafe and violated at her own home. Somehow, it was hardly surprising shelocated her in an orphanage, seeking refuge with the Sisterhood of Lestallum –a religious order of pious women who did charity and looked after orphans inCleigne, in an anonymous effort – the sisters were said to have learned it fromthe famed local ‘Assassin’ – faceless and nameless but a hero nonetheless.

Her brothers sent word to their contractor – the girl had beenfound. It was a matter of time before she was extracted from the sisterhood,and it was up to her to go peacefully to her stepdad or face a worse fate.However, the longer the girl took to return home, the longer it would take fortheir payment to be made – so Adonis had Aranea visit the place. She was agirl, he told his sister; she could bring their target back home so they couldget their hands on all the promised gil.

And that was what Aranea did – she knocked on the door of theorphanage, she met the poor runaway girl. Her name was Alyssa, and sheabsolutely refused to leave the safety of the place – none of the sisterswanted her to do it either. They were prepared to face the consequences, shouldher stepfather come to claim her at their door. Every woman was a sister – theywould not let a man take her away unless they were dead and cold.

And from what Aranea knew and saw, she didn’t doubt thatbit – the Sisterhood would be attacked or worse if needed; poor orphans andnameless benefactors were nothing to power-hungry men like her contractor. And,at the same time, if she returned empty handed to her brothers, the dragoonwould need to face the consequences as well. It was either dragging a girl toher death…

Or meeting her own.

So she had an idea – a bitter, disgusting one, but whichturned out to be the best thing for everyone: to save the sisters, to ensure otherkids wouldn’t be harmed, to guarantee Aranea wouldn’t need to suffer at thehands of her siblings and that Alyssa wouldn’t fear for her life again…

Aranea killed the girl.

Typically, she would have delivered a clean, single blow whichwould do the work – but not this time. This time, once they said their goodbyes,Aranea suffocated her with a pillow, tuning out the muffled screams and theinvoluntary spasms of her body until Alyssa went still and lifeless. Afterthat, she moved her body and staged a suicide scene – there. Alyssa was atpeace – forever. Aranea, for the time being, still breathing.

Alyssa’s doe-like eyes haunted the commodore for many nights –until they were blurred by many other empty, lifeless orbs who had stared rightup at her before having their light extinguished. The names were forgotten, thequantity of people she had killed but an estimate now – but never Alyssa.

“I killed Alyssa Evenarm of Lestallum. And I never forgot it.”

[kuno-chan]

Sea of Chains - Ch. 25, The Vault and The Vatqinokuro

Rating: T

Summary: Years after the events of Anchor, Captain Kai and Jinora Gyatso remain famous names on the seas and their children are literally born pirates. Now, their daughter, Nima, is becoming a little too pirate for comfort. When trouble with Captain Quil of the Blood Moon Pirates turns tragic, Nima is viciously dragged into what can only be be described as every parent’s worst nightmare.

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–

She was alongside a cobblestone road, in the shadow of an alleyway.

There she was again, in the past as a twelve year old girl, but this time there was a wall at her back and a group of people in front of her. Swords were at their belts and daggers in their hands, ropes and chains at the ready. Between herself and the group of poachers was a girl with light brown skin, even lighter than Nima’s, her jet black hair long and held up in a high ponytail. The elegant curtain of her bangs betrayed the cold, murderous look Nima knew was on her face.

She was strong, too. Tikaani was always strong. Strong and muscled and the peak of physical fitness. Just like her mother, Captain Korra. That being, former Captain Korra as it was in present day. But at this stage in life that Nima was watching, Auntie Korra was still captain of The Avatar and Tikaani was still just a girl Nima loved with all her heart.Just the sister who would sacrifice through hell and high water.

“Captain Korra’s kid, are you?” said the most forward man, clearly the leader. “Sounds promising.”

“You take me,” said Tikaani, the alto in her voice clear as day and as serious as a storm. “And you let her go.”

The leader chuckled, scratching the stubble on his face. “And if I just take both of you?”

“Then we make a bloody mess.” Tikaani looked him dead in the eye, intense amber eyes boring into his. “And you can try to stop me from making sure yours is the first on the ground. If you feel like that risk is worth it then so be it. Your throat is mine.”

Even now, a chill went down Nima’s spine. The threat, so deadly serious, would haunt her for weeks afterwards. Tikaani would have killed all those men just for her. Just like her father had killed Quil’s men when Quil had her cornered in an alleyway earlier that same year. She was tired of people killing for her. Spilling blood to get her out of a mess she usually got herself into.

The leader considered it apparently, shifting on his feet. There was something in Tikaani’s demeanor that always told other people that she was not joking. Nowhere in her statement was there not an iota of idleness. It was always rather obvious, be it by her eyes or her body, but it was somehow… intuitively obvious that the threat was as real as air and fully reinforced.

“Let her go,” Tikaani repeated. “And I go with you. Captain Korra is my mother. I’m a higher price than she is. This one is just the poor bastard daughter of some nameless pirate.”

Her younger self whined nervously. “Tikaani…”

Nima in the present watched with a resounding, dawning horror.

Don’t.

The leader scratched his chin. Finally, he said, “Alright, kid. We got a deal. Captain don’t need anymore nobodies on the ship anyway.” He looked to Nima. “Go on. Get goin’ before I change my mind.”

Nima grabbed Tikaani’s hand. “I can’t leave you!” she whispered furiously.

Tikaani barely turned her head to look back. “Go.”

“But--”

“Go.”

Nima remembered at that moment Tikaani had squeezed her hand back before she let go and was accosted with ropes and chains right away. For once, listening, she remembered running as fast as her legs could carry her. Back home where her family could help. She could stop this.

Tikaani wouldn’t end up like--

Yanking her back to reality, there was a yelp that didn’t belong in this memory. She blinked a couple times as the world came back and she was once again standing in a room piled high with treasure. She was panting and cold and her nails hurt from clenching them in her arms as she hugged herself--

Dan.

Was that his voice she heard?

She looked up, at the ceiling so far away. Almost non-existent…

A lump formed in throat and curled in on herself for a self hug, her body was caving in on itself. What was this place? And what had it just made her watch? In all her life, she had never felt anything like that. Such a… rapid and brutal flash of some of her most dormant, vicious memories. Not all of them, but the ones that made her ache the most…

Was Dan going through what she had just been through?

She thought of his face. His grey eyes and ash black hair hair and that stony face. She couldn’t get sucked into another one of those again, but if she kept her thoughts on his face then maybe she could navigate around and find him.

“Dan?” she called. “Dan? Captain Koika?

-:-:-:-

He didn’t like the way this place smelled. He didn’t like the way it felt. Damn it, it was all he could do to keep himself thinking straight. And what he’d seen back there…

Nevermind that. He shut it from his mind as thoroughly as possible. Locked it away and threw away the key.

Good.

“Dan?”

Nima?

Dan’s head snapped in the direction of her voice. He curved around a small mountain of treasure and, hearing the scuffle of coins on the ground, caught her as she rounded the corner right into him. She looked up at him, her eyes were red rimmed and her mouth fell open.

He frowned. “What happened?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing?” she said, her shoulders hunched between his hands. “Was that you?”

He let her go. “Me doing what?”

“That sound. The yelling? Like you fell…” When he only shook his head, she went still. “We need to find Captain Koika.”

“Stay close then,” Dan said, not even bothering to agree with her. This place was keeping him right on a sharp edge that he, frankly, didn’t like. “I don’t know what this place is, but it’s not normal.”

For once, Nima said nothing. He only felt her brush against his wrist and her heat at his side. They walked slowly, both of them obviously feeling the nerves of… whatever it was that lurked in here, intoxicating their minds with terrible things. It was at that moment he realized that the place seemed too vast for itself and the ceiling seemingly having no end might have very well been in a state of just that. Endless. If it so dared to be.

“We need to find Captain Koika and go,” Dan decided.

Nima started shaking her head. “But the stone--”

“We are going to die in here if we stay,” he said. “Call it a hunch, but you can’t tell me that you don’t notice something wrong with this place. It’s time to go--”

“Nima...”

Dan couldn’t have pulled his knife out any faster if he tried. That voice caressed the back of his neck like an unwanted touch. Melting out from between a particularly condensed area of gold, a young woman stood, hands clasped before her, her brown locks in a loose, messy bun that fell around her face and a gold coin necklace around her long, elegant neck..

It was the way she smiled that set him completely on that shape edge. There was a void to it. Blank brown eyes and perfectly curved lips and a lack of color not of this world. He knew that if someone stared too long they would never leave her gaze. Perhaps even waste away right where they stood. But that gaze was not for him.

She reached out her sickly white hand. “Nima…” Dan nearly shuddered at the way her voice scraped at him. “ I haven’t seen you in so long. You’ve grown.”

“Nah Ja?” Nima’s voice was weak, almost cracking through what little verbatim she gave. “You’re okay…? H-How...?”

“ I’ve been waiting for you, of course. Come here. Give me a big hug… ” The woman opened her arms up slowly for Nima, but never moved. She didn’t even seem to notice Dan at all. Glancing at Nima, Dan saw how her eyes locked on the woman. How misty eyed she became and how weak her breath followed. When she stepped forward, Dan did not hesitate to bring an arm around and pushed Nima behind him.

That woman’s unnatural voice rang again. “Nima…”

Nima pushed at Dan. He didn’t move. He didn’t so much as budge.

Nima pushed again. “Dan, get out of my way!” she snapped.

He turned around and beared down at her. “Look. At. Me.” He ordered. She tried to step around him and he got closer to her, her nose inches from his and growled, “Look at me.”

Unable to quite step around him, she stared.

And the desperation left. And so did the sadness. Only their residue left behind in those eyes.

She blinked as that blankness faded. He looked away when he saw her fighting tears. “...is she gone?” she asked in a small voice.

He looked behind him. A mistake on his part, really. He never should have turned his back on that… thing. “Yeah,” he said after checking.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking again. He stiffened. “I’m sorry… about everything. About what I said to you.”

Still not looking at her, Dan started to say, “Look--”

She hiccuped. He froze. “You’re not nothing to me,” she said. “I know you don’t really like me, but-- it doesn’t… it’s not so lonely with you around.”

When Dan finally looked at her, he didn’t know what to make of the girl trying to decide between looking down at the ground or peering up at him with tearful eyes. He wanted to walk away, turn away, leap as far away from her as possible. It was suffocating him. This amount of… sensitivity.

And then he saw the outcast in her eyes.

He turned to her and sighed again through his nose.

“What I said earlier. I made you feel like stupid.” he said, observing her. She looked up at him with those eyes. He almost stopped, but forced himself to go on. “That wasn’t my intention.”

She sniffed, then tried to smile. “It’s okay…” She began wiping her tears away with her fingers. “Sorry about the crying.”

Dan turned away again, taking a glance at their surroundings. “Don’t apologize anymore,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They moved on, encountering different types of treasures as they did. The more they looked, the more obvious it became that littered among all the gold and the glitter jewels also were wooden medallions and treasures carved from blue stones or lined with beads and gold or green objects that resembled hair ornaments and other such accessories. Nima picked up a green hair ornament and almost dropped it when she realized it was crusted with blood on one end.

“Somebody died for this to be here…” Nima said weakly. Gently, she put it back in the pile where she found it.

Dan was well acquainted with the Fire Nation’s history of violence during the war. His people had not forgotten. Their wall had kept invaders out, but that hadn’t saved their sister tribe from near total annihilation at the time. Despite a strained relationship between the Northern and Southern wall, the Water Tribe had never forgotten that on top of the Air Nomad genocide. Of course, modern relationships were much better after Fire Lord Ozai was defeated and ousted.

But still.

He had to agree with the horror that probably ran through Nima’s mind as they continued and her stare lingered. People died for all of this to be here. Dan wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Not only did he not want to be caught or encounter anymore… phantoms, but he didn’t like walking along on the ghosts of human history.

This entire place made his skin crawl.

Nima stopped beside him and crouched down to pick up a wooden medallion that had rolled onto the floor.

-:-:-:-

The world needs you. The spirits, the gods… all of them foretold you. You have a destiny. One beyond us.

Please… don’t do this… please!

I love you, Aang.

“What is it?”

Nima blinked slowly and looked up from where she was crouching. It took her a minute before she realized that Dan was staring right down at her. She finally stood up. Dan raised his brows.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. She still had the wooden medallion in her hand. It was old, the wooden beads a little worn with age, but well made. Three swirls were carved in: the symbol of the Air Nomads. “I just… I’ve seen this before.”

“The necklace.”

“No, the symbol on it.” She turned it around. “My grandfather has all kinds of Air Nomad things. And he’s pretty well known for preserving Air Nomad cultural items. This was a monk’s medallion. That’s what this is.”

“Well… put it down,” he said, eyeing it warily. He reached out for it as if to push it down and away from them.

She held it closer to her. “No! I… I want to keep it.”

“You want to keep it?” he asked. It was the most incredulous she’d ever heard him sound. “Did you not just see what almost probably tried to kill you? In this vault? And you want to actually take something out of it? The only thing we should be here for is that comet stone and at this point I’m ready to leave without that.”

“You don’t understand. I-I can’t explain it.” She looked down at it the medallion in her hands. It almost seemed to stare back. “I just feel like I’m supposed to have it. It’s not mine. It’s just… supposed to be with me now that I’ve found it.”

Dan just stared at her. Okay, maybe it sounded like madness, but he didn’t know how this felt in her hands. It called to her. This was living history right here in her hands. Hands that had been brought into this world, in great part, by someone who owned this. It didn’t belong in a vault so far from home. And… she couldn’t explain it. She couldn’t. But something about this one made her feel like it was meant to be with her for now.

“My grandfather will love it,” she said finally. “He would really want it.”

Dan rubbed his forehead, then his eyes. She was ready for him to turn around and walk away from her, but he only turned his attention back to her, tired. “Fine,” he said. “But if it starts causing trouble then see if I won’t toss it in the ocean.”

She nodded, slipping it over her head. “It would still be better off there then sitting in here.”

They moved on. The air in the vault felt more and more wrong the longer they stayed. The farther they walked, the colder the chill running along Nima’s spine went. She shuddered. “I think we’re going the right way...”

He only put a finger to his lips. She took it that he agreed with her -- and sensed the danger. Being a pirate all her life had given her a single gods given sense of an intuition that flared up when real, honest danger was creeping around the corner. A very clear sign to stay light on her feet and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.

In reality, that sense had probably heightened since she met Captain Quil. Nothing could ever shake the feeling of helplessness that encounter of when she had first met him. Even if she often preferred to look at life with less of a paranoid lense on, she still would never forget that feeling of just… real danger. Not quick, panicking danger. Slow, dawning and slowly creeping apprehension that evolved into the realization that something was bearing down face to face and ready to sink it’s teeth right in. That’s exactly what Captain Quil had been prepared to do had it not been for her family.

For the first time in her life he had truly shown her that monsters roamed the earth.

Dan stopped in front of her.

-- and she felt cold as ice when they saw it too. It was large and spindly, white and black and no color at all. A translucent thing with a mouth that wasn’t a mouth at all, but she could see gleaming eyes in it’s not form on what seemed to resemble a human face.

Captain Koika was in its spindly, wrong arms.

Nima’s eyes widened. “Captain Koika…!”

But he wasn’t listening, entranced in that thing’s gaze. His arms were limp at his side and he almost seemed as if he wasn’t breathing. Picking up a discarded dagger near her feet, Nima made to lunged forward, but Dan grabbed her and yanked her pack into place.

“Are you insane?” He gritted. “Look at that thing. It could tear you to pieces.”

For the first time since they’d met, Nima growled right back at him. “I don’t care. He’s going to die if we don’t do something.” Before he could say anything else, she wrenched herself out of his grip and raced to Koika. She ignored Dan when he called her and stood between Koika and the thing -- she honestly didn’t know if it was a beast or a spirit or nothing at all. A small part of her now, facing the creature in all its horrifying glory, wished she had listened to Dan and maybe thought this through for a minute.

She remembered a remark her Uncle Lefty had once made about her when she was a small child after she decided to try and save a turtleduck that she thought had lost it’s mother-- and almost drowned doing so.

“Just like her daddy,” he’d said, sending a half-pointed look at her parents when Uncle Longshot was making sure she didn’t have water in her lungs.

And by that, now, she knew he more or less meant doing things rather… suddenly, without thinking about how one might better approach the situation first. Yeah. She could see where she had a little bit of that.

This felt like a bad idea now that she was surrounded by spindly tentacles for appendages, most of which were concentrated around her face. She quickly examined it’s face, it didn’t seem to have anything visible inside it’s mouth, just a gaping hole with what looked like human lips surrounding it. All in all, it actually… resembled a human, albeit morphed and somewhat deformed, as if it’s been distorted in the process of a transformation. It’s body was long and winding, hunched and fragile, but clearly nimble. It’s eyes glowered like freshly polished smoke diamonds. She’d never, in her sixteen years of life, seen anything like this that she just couldn’t quite… describe.

She wasn’t even sure if it was of this world.

“Iluq…” Captain Koika weakly uttered behind her. “Son…”

Nima would have been more shocked if she weren’t face to face with something that was probably about to have her for dinner. For all this dagger she had raised up in front of her, the hilt fisted in it palm, her muscles were torn between completely freezing up and wanting to just move. Move anywhere. Her instincts were screaming to the heavens: run.

“Kaonaine.”

Dan.

“Kaonaine,” he said again. His voice was getting closer and she dared to slowly -- slowly -- turn her head in his direction. Just enough to see him approaching them. The creature didn’t seem to like that. Shyness or whatever it was, it began to… shrink. Shrink back into itself.

“Kaonaine.” Dan said more strongly this time.

Whatever Dan said, the creature seemed to be listening and shrank back completely.

Into a human form. Just like the one of Nah Ja they had encountered earlier. This human form was of a young man, large and solid. He had dark hair falling around his shoulders, several braids tied in it. The clasps of his braids and his fur-lined attire resembled that of a man from the Water Tribe. His skin was brown -- like Dan’s and Captain Koika’s -- and now that he was… human again, his eyes were a blue. Not a smokey brown. But like Nah Ja’s, they were vacant and no warmth radiated from them despite his amiable face.

Before Nima knew it, it had fled into a nearby shadow, but she still had the unnerving feeling that it was watching them.

Nima let out a huge breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Captain Koika was standing one minute, then fell to his knees the next.

“Captain?” Nima crouched down, putting a hand on his arm. “Are you okay? Please say something. Are you hurt?”

“Fine, lass. “He nodded weakly, almost out of breath. “I just… need a minute. Not as young as I used to be y’know… do you know what that was?”

Nima shook her head.

“Vatqinokuro.” Dan said, glancing around.

“Black Ghost,” Koika added. Nima helped him onto his feet. “In our language-- languages. Depends on how you look at it. They have all kinds of different names in different parts of the world, but they’re rare either way. Don’t like people, see. I think that’s what spooked that one. You and Dan came along and it got scared.”

“Oh…” Nima frowned. “So, it’s shy?”

“Kind of. I’ve heard of them before. Even encountered one before to my misfortune. Most people never see one in their lifetimes. From what I know they’re just kind of shadow dwellers. Mostly harmless -- unless you’re alone. Like a cornered animal, I guess. Get too close and it feels threatened. Probably what’s going on now.”

“So, our presence makes it feels threatened?” Dan asked, watching the space the Black Ghost had disappeared to.

Koika nodded. “I think so. And since we separated, they’re probably just trying to pick us off to defend their territory.”

“They?” Nima raised her brows, but her stomach lurched. Then the one she had almost walked straight to was a different one than the one Koika had encountered.

“Some of them like to live together. They just don’t care for humans. And, you know, others not of their kind.”

“...what happens if they catch you?” Nima ventured.

“Stories always tell of people who waste away in the gaze of people they’ve lost,” he said quietly. He pursed his lips, seemingly half lost in his own thoughts. “It’s… befitting to their nature, really. A bittersweet death, really. Do no harm, but let the wounds already there just bleed. They don’t want to hurt you exactly. They just want you to not be there. That’s why we call them Black Ghosts in the Water Tribe. Rare as they are, they never come out when there is a moon. Full or otherwise.”

Nima’s chest tightened. That sounded… horrible. And yet, not so bad all the same. “We need to go,” she finally said. If they didn’t want them there, then perhaps they should listen. They could rethink this through later on.

“What about the thing you were supposed to find?” Koika asked.

“I don’t even know it’s here and I won’t risk you or Dan getting hurt,” she said. “Let’s just leave.”

“Good,” Dan agreed, clearly having enough for one day. “Because the only thing I want to see right now is the exit.”

“We don’t want you hurt neither, lass.” he added. “Honestly, it was my own greed that had me in that thing’s clutches.”

Nima gave him a small smile. “Not really. You were only thinking of your crew.”

Koika shrugged. “Path of good intentions. If we’re being honest, wise people don’t go looking for treasure. Happy people don’t go looking for treasure.”

Something inside Nima just… stopped.

Happy people don’t go looking for treasure .

The only thing I want to see right now is the exit .

Exit. Treasure.

Wise people. Happy people.

There was that gut feeling again and it was just whining at her inside.

Go.

Go.

“Lass?” Nima looked up at Koika and Dan, both looking some part concerned. Koika put a hand on her shoulder. “You alrigh’?”

“We need to find the door. Right now--”

“Yeah, we know,” Dan began.

“No, you don’t understand. Where is the exit?”

They combed through the vault for the path they had taken in -- another measure of security that was convenient for anybody wanting to keep away treasure stealers. It was-- gods, it was so damn clever. Roku was a man who never wanted his stone to be found. At least, certainly not by grave robbers or treasure thieves or people looking for it for the sake of looking for it. For the sake of having the advantage over other people. Her grandfather -- her mother’s father -- would add on to the stories of heroes her mother would tell her before bedtime when they visited her grandparents in Republic City: “A hero is measured by the strength of his heart. Not by the strength of his own ego. That applies to regular people too though. Measure people by their heart. Not by what they think or would like to think of themselves.”

And the ideal person would have turned right around when they stepped in the vault. The ideal person wouldn’t have even gone any further to meet a vatqinokuro or see all the treasure the place had to explore. But people were only human.

The right person would turn right around, despite having seen what the vault had to offer, no greed or gold in their arms to distract them from the real treasure of this vault.

Finally, they reached the exit, those black doors that promised doom to all those who entered and salvation to those who exited. On top was a stone wedged at the very center, like an eye looking down on it all. She didn’t even have to see it to know that it was special, red gleaming ripples subtle compared to the gold surrounding them. She could feel it.

She almost grinned staring up at it. “Happy people don’t go looking for treasure.”

Face to face, she felt a pulse of relief from the stone.

Ah , it seemed to sigh. At long last.

--

I really liked this chapter, honestly. It was fun to write despite how long it took and I couldn’t wait to post it. Hints and little clues were poked into here, but also a big highlight for me was Dan and Nima’s conversation. Despite it’s short nature, it’s a really important one for them to have. Another step in understanding, but a very true and honest one. Probably the most honest they’ve had with each other so far. Also, I hope enjoyed my little teaser of Aang. That’s important too.

As always, guys I love it when you leave those reviews! Those reviews really motivate me and keep me writing so that I can get these chapters out in a (semi) timely manner as life permits me. But they really keep me going and keep me feeling like I still have a story to tell. Thank you for reading! Tune in for next chapter!

[leiflikesdisney-blog]

The Little Mermaid Liveblog

Hello, hello, welcome to another installment of “Leif watches a Disney movie and overreacts to mundane events.”

So, going in, I liked The Little Mermaid as a kid. However, for whatever reason, I preferred the sequel. Whenever my family rented VCRs from the local Blockbuster-esque store, I would alternate weekly between Disney’s Three Musketeers and The Little Mermaid 2. I don’t know why the sequel stood out to me so much, but it did. So, since I always watched the sequel instead of the original, it’s been years since I’ve watched The Little Mermaid. Hopefully, the movie has stood the test of time, and I can still enjoy it.

Let’s do this.

Disney has successfully mastered opening with beautiful scenery. I like how soft and pastel it is.

So, already, I have to say it, we all have to say it. Prince Eric is pretty attractive. Also, I love a man with a dog.

Hmm. Conveniently discussing mermaids and namedropping King Triton.

I hate jellyfish. I got stung once, and I hate that they’re being shoved down my throat just to get across the ocean imagery. Jellyfish are jerks.

I find it interesting how the movie is named The Little Mermaid, and the protagonist is a mermaid, yet the first glance we get of the merpeople is a guy. Just a thought.

Aww, it’s a family.

Why are there so many?? I mean, for all intensive purposes, mermaids are just people but with fins and gills, but this makes it seem like they travel in herds.

Food for thought: What is a group of mermaids called? Would it be a crowd (like humans), or a school (like fish)? According to the internet, it’s called a “gossip.”

Capitalism at work.

Y’all, I’m gonna be a little honest, I wanted to be Sebastian when I was a kid. Look at that swagger and smile.

“Especially my little Ariel.” That is…such favoritism it isn’t even funny. King Triton is kind of a problematic father.

Are they singing about how great their father is?

DUDE. Why do I already hate him?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Okay, look. I understand being free-spirited, but just show up to the goddamn show. Does she think her sisters are going to get off scot free? No, they’ll get punished for your irresponsibility too, Ariel.

This is stressing me out.

I don’t know how great of an introduction to a protagonist this is. Our first impression of her is that she’s flighty and irresponsible, which makes the viewer dislike and distrust her, but…she’s supposed to be a likable protagonist, right?

Flounder is how I sound every time I email my teachers to let them know I’m sick.

And I thought Belle was skinny.

THAT ISN’T A NORMAL-SIZED WAIST, DISNEY.

Something is telling me there might be sharks around here.

Okay.

This is poor representation of sharks. Give them a break, they’re just stupid and have bad eyesight.

This movie is the reason I have stress issues.

Is Scuttle supposed to be a seagull? I thought the deal with seagulls was they always stayed close to land, and they only went out to sea to die.

How old is Ariel supposed to be? She feels very baby-faced.

Oh, Scuttle. No.

Scuttle reminds me of my high school history teachers.

I found the “Give that bitch a dinglehopper” meme face.

Spooky.

OHH, Ursula sees through their eyes.

“When I lived in the palace.” This raises a BUNCH of questions about Ursula’s backstory that are never answered. Also, I just want to say, whoever Ursula’s voice actor is, does a wonderful job.

Ugh, I love the animation they did for Ursula. I could watch her tentacles for hours they’re so mesmerizing.

The fact that they can go to the surface and survive raises many questions. How do they survive the pressure of the ocean, and how does their body adapt to the decrease in pressure?

They refer to humans as fish eaters?? What do THEY eat? Do they survive entirely on kelp and seaweed. I can’t believe King Triton is the annoying vegetarian guy that goes around insulting “meat eaters.”

“I’m sixteen years old!” OH HONEY

I feel so sorry for Sebastian. Ariel seems like such a frustrating child to deal with, and he’s basically ordered to watch her 24/7. Also, he can’t swim that fast? What did Triton expect?

Drama princess

Is King Triton…xenophobic?

The art direction in this scene is so gorgeous, and the song is great, but the reverb is so confusing?? Like, yeah she’s in a cave, but it makes the vocals sound so garbled and distorted.

She has just so much hair.

“Bet they don’t reprimand their daughters.” But she’s not like petty or bitter or anything…God, just call Triton out why don’t you Ariel

THAT BOOK WOULD NOT SURVIVE THE WATER

Again, this movie IS really pretty.

YOU’RE GONNA DIE

Ah, yes. That classic “love at first sight” gaze.

How’d she fall for Eric when this absolute dreamboat was on board?

Ingrate.

This was my exact expression when I realized they left the dog on board in the fire.

NO

Man, they’re out here trying to make Beanpole look like a bad guy, but funny how he’s the one saving the dog while Eric’s lazy ass is busy dying.

The end. Roll credits.

“Oh no! The statue was on that ship!”

WHAT?? This guy doesn’t even have burns?? No lost limbs?? He’s JUST FINE floating on this little two by four like “oh no!! I got some smoke in my eyes!” BOY YOU JUST GOT BLOWN UP

That’s not like…a stupid or dangerous decision in the slightest.

He isn’t even surprised Eric is alive?? You watched him get BLOWN UP

This is such an iconic shot, but I just cannot get over her tiny, tiny waist.

She has a very expressive face, and I am living for it.

It’s scenes like these that just remind me how young she is and make me uncomfortable with the plot of the movie, especially since Eric seems MUCH older than 16. Also, it’s very evident that the artists did not know how bras work, especially underwater.

YES, I am so ready for this bopper of a song.

I feel like newts don’t live on the seabed, but I’ll allow it.

She gone.

You could have gotten off scot-free but NOOO, you just had to confess.

Exactly how I felt when she said she loved a guy she doesn’t even know.

I don’t know if the people who made this movie realize how scary and unlikable they made Triton.

Please stop calling her “child.” I hate remembering that she is very much a kid.

Yesss, such a good song.

Wow, it’s almost like villains are allowed to be more expressive and animated than protagonists, cause they don’t have to be “attractive.”

Was it necessary to animate that boob jiggle?

Ah yes, the golden days of animation smears.

I love this color palette.

Disney is really killing it with these color palettes.

I find it interesting that Ariel’s mannerisms became much more animated and expressive once she lost her voice. It’s almost like they realized that people express themselves through ways besides tone and inflection?

She is really cute here. Again, though, that’s not how waists work.

Sebastian is the father Ariel deserves.

Well, at least she isn’t naked anymore.

I can tell by that noise that she’s wearing heels, and honestly? I’m a little upset. It’s the girls first day with legs and she’s somehow walking just fine in heels? I’ve had legs for 18 years, and heels are still a struggle for me.

HER WAIST IS SO SMALL PLEASE HELP HER THAT’S NOT HOW BODIES WORK

Disney movies tend to either have effeminate male villains, or overweight villains. This guy manages to fit both those categories. I guess the writers decided that villainizing just one fat character wasn’t enough.

…I am a sucker for well-choreographed dance scenes, though, and this scene is oddly cute to me.

Me too.

Look, I can’t help the fact that he’s cute.

“My kingdom.” Well, well, well, little mister “I’m not vain, and I’m going to be standoffish towards Grimby’s statue of me to prove it.” How the tables have turned.

Please just let Sebastian replace King Triton.

Oh, boo-hoo, woe is me, it’s time for a ham fisted attempt at making the audience feel sympathetic towards Ariel’s scumbag father. NO, guess what, I know it’s coming entirely because of this scene. They’re going to “””redeem””” him, and try to have some touching reuniting scene, BUT I’M NOT BUYING IT. King Triton is a scumbag. #NotMySeaKing

His hair looks so fluffy.

Please get her out of those heels, I am concerned for her safety.

That’s kind of a, uh…dark joke.

I forgot how many great songs this movie has.

OKAY AS MUCH AS I LOVE THIS SONG, THIS SCENE IS HILARIOUS. HE JUST…DOESN’T NOTICE THE SUDDEN MUSIC AND SINGING?

I will say, they do a wonderful job at capturing that feeling of awkward, uncomfortable first-time teenage romance.

More pretty scenery.

“That’s kind of pretty!” KIND OF??? Please, somebody help this boy, he is so bad at this.

I hate that weird “come hither” look on her baby doll face.

Cock blocked.

OH NO

They really would not get away with her calling an Ariel a tramp in modern movies.

I very strongly relate to Ursula’s hatred of Triton.

STOP, GOD…HE’S TOO MUCH FOR ME.  Eric is that kid in high school that thinks he’s deep and thoughtful for not doing his homework, and he constantly talks about playing the flute in class, but he never actually plays during band because they don’t play anything that he likes. He wears a cape to school and pretends to smoke under the bleachers, because he wants to be cool but he isn’t about to mess with the possibility of upsetting his acute asthma.

Beanpole looks so tired of Eric’s shit. His face just screams, “Not this again.”

So pensive…So thoughtful…You’re not deep or edgy for reading Poe, Eric. Everyone reads Poe.

Actually, Eric is that one jerk who judges your music taste too harshly. “I mean, I GUESS Bruno Mars is okay, but he’s really sold out. I listen to more obscure artists…Recently, I’ve been really digging this nameless, faceless chick that pulled me out of the ocean.”

Stop encouraging him to marry a girl that he’s known for a day. “Warm and caring” WHERE? YOU DON’T KNOW HER. SHE BLEW YOUR PIPE IN YOUR FACE, BEANPOLE.

I hate this internal conflict. Do I marry a girl I barely know, or a girl that I don’t know at all. HOW ABOUT NEITHER.

WHAT?? I MEAN, I APPRECIATE THE SYMBOLISM BUT WHY??

…Sure. You know what. Sure. I don’t have the energy to be upset with this right now.

UH

They’re friends.

Remember the olden days when people got engaged and married in the span of literal hours? I know people who have been engaged for two years and are still planning their wedding.

Aw, she wasn’t even invited to the wedding.

This is how I look getting ready for my 8:30 classes.

ARIEL, NO

I…don’t think….this is the best plan.

I mean, come on. What did you expect?

Okay, end. Roll credits. Don’t drag this out.

Oh, darnit.

I LOVE THEIR EXPRESSIONS HERE? THEY JUST LOOK SO NONCHALANT ABOUT THIS.

One day, I want to be as dramatic as Ursula.

You can’t fight the law, Triton.

The law always wins.

Alright, cool. Steal his life force, kill him off, roll credits, we’re done! Happy ending for all!

Well, that’s definitely not how this works. Ariel has like 20 older sisters you gotta kill off first.

WHAT

Me running away from my problems

Well, duh, that’s gonna happen.

Still 100 times more sympathetic than Triton.

They just didn’t even bother to animate his dialogue here they were so done with this movie.

Cock blocked again.

She’s so cool, I love her.

I love these colors.

HE’S JUST LAUNCHED INTO THE AIR? OKAY, BYE ERIC.

I know I’m supposed to be doing some deep thinking, like, why do I think Ursula is so cool in these scenes where she’s literally trying to kill people, but…I don’t have an answer. She’s just so COOL. Look at her.

How does he magically have his crown back?

Oh, come on, we’ve been here before.

I hate you. I hate your weird old man buff body. I hate your beard. I hate your nonsensical eyebrows. Leave this movie.

BOO! BOO! BAD REDEMPTION ARC!

I’m confused about the dress but hey, at least she isn’t naked this time.

So…This is the second movie I’ve liveblogged where the prince wears capris, and I can only hope this trend continues with Cinderella.

YOU’RE KILLING HIM

A good surrogate father.

Aaand Ariel snaps his neck and the credits roll. The end.

That’s a nice “Part of your World” reprise tie in.

I’m like 90% sure they just reused the animation of them kissing from 30 seconds ago.

And now, officially, for real this time, roll the credits.

A nice movie! I love the scenery and soundtrack, and Sebastian and Ursula are two of my favorite Disney characters. Unfortunately, my disdain for Triton, Ariel, and Eric make this a kind of difficult movie to watch. Still, I’d probably watch it again.