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wilwheaton:Posted @withregram • @ava I’m told #BlackOutTuesday began to create space for white folks to learn/talk/read/think about racism? Okay. Add this to your agenda. Think about how you can actively work to dismantle the generations-old systems that encourage and protect police misconduct and murder. Actively. Work. To. Dismantle. Take cues from fellow white people who wanted tans and tattoos, so they marched on state capitols with their guns and wallah! States opened. Swagger into the halls of power that you have access to with an outrage on behalf of Black Life. Think about how to defend against police officers who murder us and get away with it. Actively. Work. To. Dismantle.https://www.instagram.com/p/CA87J_iD1mR/?igshid=1uokyx1t7tss7: wilwheaton:Posted @withregram • @ava I’m told #BlackOutTuesday began to create space for white folks to learn/talk/read/think about racism? Okay. Add this to your agenda. Think about how you can actively work to dismantle the generations-old systems that encourage and protect police misconduct and murder. Actively. Work. To. Dismantle. Take cues from fellow white people who wanted tans and tattoos, so they marched on state capitols with their guns and wallah! States opened. Swagger into the halls of power that you have access to with an outrage on behalf of Black Life. Think about how to defend against police officers who murder us and get away with it. Actively. Work. To. Dismantle.https://www.instagram.com/p/CA87J_iD1mR/?igshid=1uokyx1t7tss7

wilwheaton:Posted @withregram • @ava I’m told #BlackOutTuesday began to create space for white folks to learn/talk/read/think about racis...

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lotrlocked: weaselle: There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just “HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!” and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be.  I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere. I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down. : lotrlocked: weaselle: There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just “HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!” and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be.  I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere. I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down.
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officialromaniantranslatiuni: petruparcatoru: andiiwrites: dangerdwight: vrabia: officialromaniantranslatiuni: http://www.bihorcouture.com hey friends, if you care about cultural appropriation and the damage it causes, please check out this awesome project! in 2017 dior copied the design of a traditional romanian coat from the county of bihor and sold it for 30,000 euro, giving no credit to the local artisans. in response, romanian fashion magazine beau monde helped the community create their own brand, bihor couture, which sells the original coat, handmade to order, for 500 euro a piece. they also sell other traditional clothing and jewelry for much more accessible prices (5-45 euro). they’ve been hugely successful so far, and currently have enough pre-orders to cover 4.5 years of work, with 100% of the profits returning to the community.  it’s surprisingly common for big name fashion designers like dior, gaultier, tom ford and altuzarra to copy traditional romanian clothing and sell it for ridiculous prices, with minimal original input, while giving nothing back to the community where these designs originated. it’s completely unfair that a big name designer can just steal so much hard work and misuse it to make huge profits.  please support bihor couture, if not by ordering one of their products, then by spreading the news around. it’s really awesome to see a small community fight back against cultural appropriation so successfully. i hope they carry on for a long time! But like, when this is done to cultures of color, non-white, nothing happens. Like, I’m here for the people in Bihor, but it makes me wish more work was done just like this for African countries, Asian countries, Hispanic Countries, etc. The people of Bihor did this for themselves. With the help of a Romanian magazine, they support themselves. The Romanian community posted this, reblogged this, and you saw and reblogged.  But this wasn’t done ‘for us’, work was not done ‘for the people of Bihor’. White people didn’t see this other ‘white country’, and sad ‘yes, let us help our fellow white citizens on this Earth while continuing to ignore everyone else’. The people of Romania and Bihor saw this and said ‘we must act’ and acted. Take this US-born concept of ‘cultures of color’ away from multicultural continents like Europe, where this thing does not apply. This post gained traction on facebook in Romania, from romanian to romanian, and then on tumblr (as you can see, the tumblr that posted it is a Romanian tumblr). The tumblr explaining you this, vrabia, is a romanian tumblr. Nothing is ‘work done for’. We see it, we reblog it, we did it, we’re bringing it to light.  We are doing it. It is work by, not work for. No one gave Romanian and Bihor anything. They/we did it. You want this ‘done for’ other countries? Angelina Jolie is doing it through UN. Poeple are doing it. But work ’done for Bihor’ (done by) does not invalidate work ‘done for’ other countries and cultures. Let us have this at least, after all the world took Vlad the Impaler and vilified a national hero by making him a bloodsucker.  lol that’s my old blog bless :)))))))) @petruparcatoru I WAS ACTUALLY ABOUT TO MAKE A POST ASKING WHERE ANDIIWRITES WENT : officialromaniantranslatiuni: petruparcatoru: andiiwrites: dangerdwight: vrabia: officialromaniantranslatiuni: http://www.bihorcouture.com hey friends, if you care about cultural appropriation and the damage it causes, please check out this awesome project! in 2017 dior copied the design of a traditional romanian coat from the county of bihor and sold it for 30,000 euro, giving no credit to the local artisans. in response, romanian fashion magazine beau monde helped the community create their own brand, bihor couture, which sells the original coat, handmade to order, for 500 euro a piece. they also sell other traditional clothing and jewelry for much more accessible prices (5-45 euro). they’ve been hugely successful so far, and currently have enough pre-orders to cover 4.5 years of work, with 100% of the profits returning to the community.  it’s surprisingly common for big name fashion designers like dior, gaultier, tom ford and altuzarra to copy traditional romanian clothing and sell it for ridiculous prices, with minimal original input, while giving nothing back to the community where these designs originated. it’s completely unfair that a big name designer can just steal so much hard work and misuse it to make huge profits.  please support bihor couture, if not by ordering one of their products, then by spreading the news around. it’s really awesome to see a small community fight back against cultural appropriation so successfully. i hope they carry on for a long time! But like, when this is done to cultures of color, non-white, nothing happens. Like, I’m here for the people in Bihor, but it makes me wish more work was done just like this for African countries, Asian countries, Hispanic Countries, etc. The people of Bihor did this for themselves. With the help of a Romanian magazine, they support themselves. The Romanian community posted this, reblogged this, and you saw and reblogged.  But this wasn’t done ‘for us’, work was not done ‘for the people of Bihor’. White people didn’t see this other ‘white country’, and sad ‘yes, let us help our fellow white citizens on this Earth while continuing to ignore everyone else’. The people of Romania and Bihor saw this and said ‘we must act’ and acted. Take this US-born concept of ‘cultures of color’ away from multicultural continents like Europe, where this thing does not apply. This post gained traction on facebook in Romania, from romanian to romanian, and then on tumblr (as you can see, the tumblr that posted it is a Romanian tumblr). The tumblr explaining you this, vrabia, is a romanian tumblr. Nothing is ‘work done for’. We see it, we reblog it, we did it, we’re bringing it to light.  We are doing it. It is work by, not work for. No one gave Romanian and Bihor anything. They/we did it. You want this ‘done for’ other countries? Angelina Jolie is doing it through UN. Poeple are doing it. But work ’done for Bihor’ (done by) does not invalidate work ‘done for’ other countries and cultures. Let us have this at least, after all the world took Vlad the Impaler and vilified a national hero by making him a bloodsucker.  lol that’s my old blog bless :)))))))) @petruparcatoru I WAS ACTUALLY ABOUT TO MAKE A POST ASKING WHERE ANDIIWRITES WENT
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kradeiz: arrghigiveup: gale-of-the-nomads: notsomerryerry: chabbit: bulbasaur-propaganda: Growing up with your starters Artist:  esasi8794 / Twitter The captions are also really cute, although they mostly describe what’s in each photo: Bulbasaur: Somehow, nomming on my clothes… has become a weird habit of theirs. Venusaur: That hasn’t changed now that they’ve grown, but they’re very gentle. Charmander: It’s my first attempt, but I made a plushie so that he wouldn’t get lonely. Charizard: That plushie seems to be his favorite even now. Squirtle: Squirtle’s a bit timid and hides behind me at the smallest things. Blastoise: Looks like they’re scared of the first Pichu they’ve seen. You’re not really hiding! @noelle217 This is adorable They just posted some more! [source] And some more! : kradeiz: arrghigiveup: gale-of-the-nomads: notsomerryerry: chabbit: bulbasaur-propaganda: Growing up with your starters Artist:  esasi8794 / Twitter The captions are also really cute, although they mostly describe what’s in each photo: Bulbasaur: Somehow, nomming on my clothes… has become a weird habit of theirs. Venusaur: That hasn’t changed now that they’ve grown, but they’re very gentle. Charmander: It’s my first attempt, but I made a plushie so that he wouldn’t get lonely. Charizard: That plushie seems to be his favorite even now. Squirtle: Squirtle’s a bit timid and hides behind me at the smallest things. Blastoise: Looks like they’re scared of the first Pichu they’ve seen. You’re not really hiding! @noelle217 This is adorable They just posted some more! [source] And some more!

kradeiz: arrghigiveup: gale-of-the-nomads: notsomerryerry: chabbit: bulbasaur-propaganda: Growing up with your starters Artist:  es...

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one-time-i-dreamt: d00dlef0x: anetjay: one-time-i-dreamt: invisableeyes: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt: ???????????????????????????? this guy on Facebook randomly sent me a pic of me along with this message (my name is Tea in case that part is confusing) Huh. Scary. That’s not something I ever thought about. Why the anger? It’s just something that I’d also rather not think about, and because I am not self-absorbed, I never thought I was interesting/pretty/known enough to have it happen to me. I am aware these things do happen though. When I once reverse image searched some of the selfies I posted in the past, I found things like, people using them as their profile pictures on things like that Ask site but also LinkedIn (scarier), reposting them to Instagram, reposting them here. I don’t mind stuff like having them reposted, but claiming to be me is where I draw the line. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you at some point. SKELETON Even my skeleton???? Especially your skeleton He also called you a bollywood star wh I don’t think I know anyone who looks less like a Bollywood star than me 😂: one-time-i-dreamt: d00dlef0x: anetjay: one-time-i-dreamt: invisableeyes: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt: ???????????????????????????? this guy on Facebook randomly sent me a pic of me along with this message (my name is Tea in case that part is confusing) Huh. Scary. That’s not something I ever thought about. Why the anger? It’s just something that I’d also rather not think about, and because I am not self-absorbed, I never thought I was interesting/pretty/known enough to have it happen to me. I am aware these things do happen though. When I once reverse image searched some of the selfies I posted in the past, I found things like, people using them as their profile pictures on things like that Ask site but also LinkedIn (scarier), reposting them to Instagram, reposting them here. I don’t mind stuff like having them reposted, but claiming to be me is where I draw the line. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you at some point. SKELETON Even my skeleton???? Especially your skeleton He also called you a bollywood star wh I don’t think I know anyone who looks less like a Bollywood star than me 😂

one-time-i-dreamt: d00dlef0x: anetjay: one-time-i-dreamt: invisableeyes: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt: one-time-i-dreamt...

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audrey-hepbae: snacfu: liebgoth: weknowwearebeautifulanduglytoo: joekerspades: elitigre: frender: deadfoxforcutie: trashgender-neurotica: blueeyeddl: tikkunolamorgtfo: trashgender-neurotica: When you’re an adult man and you try to troll a little girl but instead she drags you straight to hell. (source) “I’m down with white nationalism but I will clutch my pearls if I hear an F-bomb.” White people in a nutshell. Is he calling her “young man” or “young ma'am”? I can’t tell. Considering it’s infowars, may be relevant either way….. He said “young man”, no doubt in an attempt to launch into anti-trans rhetoric with her as a prop. This is a good way to handle that. why is it that every reactionary white dude talks like this. “oh wow, oh my gosh!! oh golly!! oh jeepers!!” it’s actually a little bit horrifying that he would try to expose a child to the lion den of internet white nationalism by making her a prop to make fun of. but yeah, the little girl is “scandalous” because she rightfully called this grown man a fucking idiot Fun trivia fact: this single clip entirely ended this dumbass dude’s career in Infowars and alt right publication, because no one took him seriously anymore after a “little girl” called him a fucking idiot to his face and all he could do was say wow and oh my gosh. I’m glad. Fuck that guy. Hey that’s me in the 8th grade lol, I use they them pronouns now fank uuuu!!!! Also I still have those same glasses :0 how time flies!! Also if u were wondering how the altercation started I was at this defend DACA protest and my jewish ass was like is that FUCKING infowars harassing an old lady and so I posted the fuck up. Texas style. YOURE MY HERO Long live this hero. May they never need a new prescription. : audrey-hepbae: snacfu: liebgoth: weknowwearebeautifulanduglytoo: joekerspades: elitigre: frender: deadfoxforcutie: trashgender-neurotica: blueeyeddl: tikkunolamorgtfo: trashgender-neurotica: When you’re an adult man and you try to troll a little girl but instead she drags you straight to hell. (source) “I’m down with white nationalism but I will clutch my pearls if I hear an F-bomb.” White people in a nutshell. Is he calling her “young man” or “young ma'am”? I can’t tell. Considering it’s infowars, may be relevant either way….. He said “young man”, no doubt in an attempt to launch into anti-trans rhetoric with her as a prop. This is a good way to handle that. why is it that every reactionary white dude talks like this. “oh wow, oh my gosh!! oh golly!! oh jeepers!!” it’s actually a little bit horrifying that he would try to expose a child to the lion den of internet white nationalism by making her a prop to make fun of. but yeah, the little girl is “scandalous” because she rightfully called this grown man a fucking idiot Fun trivia fact: this single clip entirely ended this dumbass dude’s career in Infowars and alt right publication, because no one took him seriously anymore after a “little girl” called him a fucking idiot to his face and all he could do was say wow and oh my gosh. I’m glad. Fuck that guy. Hey that’s me in the 8th grade lol, I use they them pronouns now fank uuuu!!!! Also I still have those same glasses :0 how time flies!! Also if u were wondering how the altercation started I was at this defend DACA protest and my jewish ass was like is that FUCKING infowars harassing an old lady and so I posted the fuck up. Texas style. YOURE MY HERO Long live this hero. May they never need a new prescription.
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ryanthedemiboy: gahdamnpunk: The government does not care about minorities and poor folk. I understand why you’d caption it like that, but this is specifically about indigenous Americans and how the US treats them. The US hates other minorities and poor folk, but please don’t take attention from this. All those other people have a chance at being treated. But people on the reservations… don’t. They were literally given body bags. Here’s the Navajo and Hopi relief fund on gofundme You can also donate through here if you’d like to avoid supporting gofundme. Here is the official Navajo Nation relief fund, posted by their President on twitter (link to tweet). Oh, also, many of them don’t have running water (and never have). Link : ryanthedemiboy: gahdamnpunk: The government does not care about minorities and poor folk. I understand why you’d caption it like that, but this is specifically about indigenous Americans and how the US treats them. The US hates other minorities and poor folk, but please don’t take attention from this. All those other people have a chance at being treated. But people on the reservations… don’t. They were literally given body bags. Here’s the Navajo and Hopi relief fund on gofundme You can also donate through here if you’d like to avoid supporting gofundme. Here is the official Navajo Nation relief fund, posted by their President on twitter (link to tweet). Oh, also, many of them don’t have running water (and never have). Link

ryanthedemiboy: gahdamnpunk: The government does not care about minorities and poor folk. I understand why you’d caption it like that,...

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cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER : cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the g...

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