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Liked: pencilscratchins: i always liked them together because the concept of two full ass countries being run by these two idiots is utterly golden to me
Liked: pencilscratchins:

i always liked them together because the concept of two full ass countries being run by these two idiots is utterly golden to me

pencilscratchins: i always liked them together because the concept of two full ass countries being run by these two idiots is utterly go...

Liked: cursed-40k-thoughts: randomnightlord: cursed-40k-thoughts: randomnightlord: a-40k-author: The new art of Warhammer 40000.  Blood Angels with a glowing coffin? Don’t tell me GW will bring back Sanguinius. I honestly would quite like that, providing they do a good job of narratively justifying and explaining it. The follow up potential of Roboute and Lion and even the traitor Primarchs getting to see/interact with the brother they all saw as the best of them would be super interesting. Providing, again it was done well.That said, I’m also kind of into the idea that the new C’tan-looking angel thing the Necrons have is some kind of AI replication of Sangy, given it has the wings and a big spear and we know Necrontyr would make AI personalities of dead people they deeply respected, and that Szarekh really liked Sangy and thought he would have been a good Emperor.Super unlikely, but I digress. If it’s done well, Sanguinius coming back would be pretty damned cool. I mean….I guess?I would just be kinda salty if the damn Angel would return before any new Night Lords content releases.Yes I know I am beating a dead bat at this point but still I mean, yeah, obviously loyalist Astartes oversaturation remains a pertinent and ongoing issue. I’ve been fairly vocal about that multiple times. I’m just saying that the narrative potential surrounding a Sanguinius comeback is promising. I’m intimately aware that Chaos and Xenos and Guard need more attention on multiple fronts. On all fronts tbh
Liked: cursed-40k-thoughts:

randomnightlord:

cursed-40k-thoughts:

randomnightlord:
a-40k-author:
The new art of Warhammer 40000. 


Blood Angels with a glowing coffin?
Don’t tell me GW will bring back Sanguinius. 

I honestly would quite like that, providing they do a good job of narratively justifying and explaining it. The follow up potential of Roboute and Lion and even the traitor Primarchs getting to see/interact with the brother they all saw as the best of them would be super interesting. Providing, again it was done well.That said, I’m also kind of into the idea that the new C’tan-looking angel thing the Necrons have is some kind of AI replication of Sangy, given it has the wings and a big spear and we know Necrontyr would make AI personalities of dead people they deeply respected, and that Szarekh really liked Sangy and thought he would have been a good Emperor.Super unlikely, but I digress. If it’s done well, Sanguinius coming back would be pretty damned cool. 


I mean….I guess?I would just be kinda salty if the damn Angel would return before any new Night Lords content releases.Yes I know I am beating a dead bat at this point but still


I mean, yeah, obviously loyalist Astartes oversaturation remains a pertinent and ongoing issue. I’ve been fairly vocal about that multiple times. I’m just saying that the narrative potential surrounding a Sanguinius comeback is promising. I’m intimately aware that Chaos and Xenos and Guard need more attention on multiple fronts. 


On all fronts tbh

cursed-40k-thoughts: randomnightlord: cursed-40k-thoughts: randomnightlord: a-40k-author: The new art of Warhammer 40000.  Blood Ang...

Liked: She said she liked dark humor…
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She said she liked dark humor…

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You bet I super liked.

Liked: I’m so disappointed! Her profile said she liked star wars
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Liked: I liked the “I Like Turtles” sign more by vMarble MORE MEMES
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MORE MEMES

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Liked: cruxismadoodles:I really liked this part╰(*°▽°*)╯
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Liked: [OC] Here’s another comic since you guys liked the last one so much
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[OC] Here’s another comic since you guys liked the last one so much

Liked: I super liked her, just for that awesome bio.
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I super liked her, just for that awesome bio.

Liked: 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
Liked: 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...

Liked: fuck-eater: bettagal: stickyfrogs: The Hand is here! Where is Voigt’s dinner? GUMBY IS HERE ALSO This video is so wholesome. I liked the part with the frogs
Liked: fuck-eater:

bettagal:

stickyfrogs:

The Hand is here! Where is Voigt’s dinner?
GUMBY IS HERE ALSO

This video is so wholesome.


I liked the part with the frogs

fuck-eater: bettagal: stickyfrogs: The Hand is here! Where is Voigt’s dinner? GUMBY IS HERE ALSO This video is so wholesome. I like...

Liked: if liked == True: upvote()
Liked: if liked == True: upvote()

if liked == True: upvote()

Liked: He asked if I do anal I don’t think he liked my response
Liked: He asked if I do anal I don’t think he liked my response

He asked if I do anal I don’t think he liked my response

Liked: sonneillonv: violent-cisbian: lesbianplayinanimalcrossing: violent-cisbian: thevirginmaryswomb: radcybergoth: blackswallowtailbutterfly: ryderdai: the-pump-king: morphimus: charlesoberonn: charlesoberonn: queen-of-dirt: charlesoberonn: notaboyscout: charlesoberonn: memory-thought: charlesoberonn: updogonline: It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong. I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. You can see the inside of the cardboard though. This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set. it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door. I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal. American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last. Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls. Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood. Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that. Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is. Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes. Read this article. https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality Then watch this video. Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️ I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself. It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,? No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on. Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily. why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood? I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam. Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it. You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.   Needless to say I’m having it replaced. -laughs in solid wooden door-
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updogonline:

It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong.



I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. 

You can see the inside of the cardboard though.
This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set.



it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. 




y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows

If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door.



I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal.



American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last.
Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls.
Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood.
Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that.
Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is.
Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes.
Read this article.
https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality
Then watch this video.



Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? 



It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️

I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself.



It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood



Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood



do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,?



No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on.
Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily.



why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood?

I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam.
Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it.
You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.  
Needless to say I’m having it replaced.



-laughs in solid wooden door-

sonneillonv: violent-cisbian: lesbianplayinanimalcrossing: violent-cisbian: thevirginmaryswomb: radcybergoth: blackswallowtailb...

Liked: bogleech: lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem. On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes. But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish. And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore. Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school. The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room. When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem. ~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy … I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
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movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

bogleech: lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“G...

Liked: chapter-master-darius: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: just-another-guardsman: wh40kartwork: Krieger by Rotaken The certified madlad Huh neatWaitThat gun looks familiarHmmm. Ah.Whack The Gatling MG42 is literally the worst fucking thing i have ever seen in my life of being interested in history and Videogames Worst design yes and I can name so much of the pointless bullshit with itHell. Only remembered the piece of shit weapon because I once spent half an hour staring at its stock for study Also didn’t it have like one or two mags? Those things only really held up to 100 shots at best. 200 shots for a Gatling gun mg42 that probably shoots even faster than the 1400rpm the original hasThat is no lmg. Thats a shotgun with a weight of like 40 kilos by the looks of it It had 1 magazine. No reloadability (also had no dust tray cover release thing or drum release). Some bs about balancing. 250 rounds in game for somme reason. Last I checked those kinds of drums could only hold a 50 round belt. Lowest firerate on any modern rotary barrel weapon is 1000rpm of the Gau-19, the same wepaon can achive 2000rpm. But thats 50cal/12.7. Assuming this uses the same ammo as the MG42, than that would be 7.92×57, the nearest weapons we have for that is the US M134 which has a firerate of 3000rpm to 6000rpm or the Russian GShG-7.62 (a 4 barreled one) which has 3500rpm to 6000rpm. So realistically the 50 round belt would be used up in 1 second to half a second. The 250 belt would be 5 seconds to 2 and a half seconds. Thats nowhere near enough. So again, bad design. Also if it uses a belt it would need a delinker.The barrel shroud was left on each individual barrel, forcing the barrels apart. More weight. Would also need a more powerful rotor to spin it. Gatling weapons forgo barrel shrouds because the multiple barrels are to help cooling.The foregrip was in the right place but wasn’t reinforced enough/where it connects with the weapon needed to be a bit more forward.The barrels had to “spin up” first. That would realistically waste ammo. Electric rotart guns start firing immediately and at a high firerate which climbs over like, a second or two as the motor warms up. Also upon the trigger being released they stop spinning immediatly. But that things barrels kept spinning, which would eject unfired rounds. Also the barrels never seemed to line up with any kind of breach, instead coming to rest in some random ass place, no sense whatsoever.IT HAS NO SIGHTSWHERE IS ITS POWER SOURCE That gun is a fucking mess and i hate it so much. The 1960 plasma one angers me more. (3 barrels that dont spin. Only one barrel is ever used. Why. Why then3 barrels. Somehow plays worse than that stupid ass gatling mg42/46. Bunch other reasons I’m too angry and tired for atm)Also as for the art that started this. 40k already has rotor cannons which normal humans can pick up, although thosw only got ised in 30k (and 40k as the soulfire cannon used by magnus’ lads) Aye. The only wolfenstein weapon i actually liked in the new Games was the Hatchet. Even the knife in New Order was a total nightmare You two are overlooking the fact that these weapons were used to brutally murder Nazis. Focus on the good things, yeah? True. I fully agree but technical nonsense makes me angery
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Krieger by 
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The certified madlad


Huh neatWaitThat gun looks familiarHmmm. Ah.Whack


The Gatling MG42 is literally the worst fucking thing i have ever seen in my life of being interested in history and Videogames


Worst design yes and I can name so much of the pointless bullshit with itHell. Only remembered the piece of shit weapon because I once spent half an hour staring at its stock for study


Also didn’t it have like one or two mags? Those things only really held up to 100 shots at best. 200 shots for a Gatling gun mg42 that probably shoots even faster than the 1400rpm the original hasThat is no lmg. Thats a shotgun with a weight of like 40 kilos by the looks of it


It had 1 magazine. No reloadability (also had no dust tray cover release thing or drum release). Some bs about balancing. 250 rounds in game for somme reason. Last I checked those kinds of drums could only hold a 50 round belt. Lowest firerate on any modern rotary barrel weapon is 1000rpm of the Gau-19, the same wepaon can achive 2000rpm. But thats 50cal/12.7. Assuming this uses the same ammo as the MG42, than that would be 7.92×57, the nearest weapons we have for that is the US M134 which has a firerate of 3000rpm to 6000rpm or the Russian GShG-7.62 (a 4 barreled one) which has 3500rpm to 6000rpm. So realistically the 50 round belt would be used up in 1 second to half a second. The 250 belt would be 5 seconds to 2 and a half seconds. Thats nowhere near enough. So again, bad design. Also if it uses a belt it would need a delinker.The barrel shroud was left on each individual barrel, forcing the barrels apart. More weight. Would also need a more powerful rotor to spin it. Gatling weapons forgo barrel shrouds because the multiple barrels are to help cooling.The foregrip was in the right place but wasn’t reinforced enough/where it connects with the weapon needed to be a bit more forward.The barrels had to “spin up” first. That would realistically waste ammo. Electric rotart guns start firing immediately and at a high firerate which climbs over like, a second or two as the motor warms up. Also upon the trigger being released they stop spinning immediatly. But that things barrels kept spinning, which would eject unfired rounds. Also the barrels never seemed to line up with any kind of breach, instead coming to rest in some random ass place, no sense whatsoever.IT HAS NO SIGHTSWHERE IS ITS POWER SOURCE


That gun is a fucking mess and i hate it so much. 


The 1960 plasma one angers me more. (3 barrels that dont spin. Only one barrel is ever used. Why. Why then3 barrels. Somehow plays worse than that stupid ass gatling mg42/46. Bunch other reasons I’m too angry and tired for atm)Also as for the art that started this. 40k already has rotor cannons which normal humans can pick up, although thosw only got ised in 30k (and 40k as the soulfire cannon used by magnus’ lads)


Aye. The only wolfenstein weapon i actually liked in the new Games was the Hatchet. Even the knife in New Order was a total nightmare 


You two are overlooking the fact that these weapons were used to brutally murder Nazis. Focus on the good things, yeah?


True. I fully agree but technical nonsense makes me angery

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Liked: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: randomnightlord: feniczoroark: just-another-guardsman: wh40kartwork: Krieger by Rotaken The certified madlad Huh neatWaitThat gun looks familiarHmmm. Ah.Whack The Gatling MG42 is literally the worst fucking thing i have ever seen in my life of being interested in history and Videogames Worst design yes and I can name so much of the pointless bullshit with itHell. Only remembered the piece of shit weapon because I once spent half an hour staring at its stock for study Also didn’t it have like one or two mags? Those things only really held up to 100 shots at best. 200 shots for a Gatling gun mg42 that probably shoots even faster than the 1400rpm the original hasThat is no lmg. Thats a shotgun with a weight of like 40 kilos by the looks of it It had 1 magazine. No reloadability (also had no dust tray cover release thing or drum release). Some bs about balancing. 250 rounds in game for somme reason. Last I checked those kinds of drums could only hold a 50 round belt. Lowest firerate on any modern rotary barrel weapon is 1000rpm of the Gau-19, the same wepaon can achive 2000rpm. But thats 50cal/12.7. Assuming this uses the same ammo as the MG42, than that would be 7.92×57, the nearest weapons we have for that is the US M134 which has a firerate of 3000rpm to 6000rpm or the Russian GShG-7.62 (a 4 barreled one) which has 3500rpm to 6000rpm. So realistically the 50 round belt would be used up in 1 second to half a second. The 250 belt would be 5 seconds to 2 and a half seconds. Thats nowhere near enough. So again, bad design. Also if it uses a belt it would need a delinker.The barrel shroud was left on each individual barrel, forcing the barrels apart. More weight. Would also need a more powerful rotor to spin it. Gatling weapons forgo barrel shrouds because the multiple barrels are to help cooling.The foregrip was in the right place but wasn’t reinforced enough/where it connects with the weapon needed to be a bit more forward.The barrels had to “spin up” first. That would realistically waste ammo. Electric rotart guns start firing immediately and at a high firerate which climbs over like, a second or two as the motor warms up. Also upon the trigger being released they stop spinning immediatly. But that things barrels kept spinning, which would eject unfired rounds. Also the barrels never seemed to line up with any kind of breach, instead coming to rest in some random ass place, no sense whatsoever.IT HAS NO SIGHTSWHERE IS ITS POWER SOURCE That gun is a fucking mess and i hate it so much. The 1960 plasma one angers me more. (3 barrels that dont spin. Only one barrel is ever used. Why. Why then3 barrels. Somehow plays worse than that stupid ass gatling mg42/46. Bunch other reasons I’m too angry and tired for atm)Also as for the art that started this. 40k already has rotor cannons which normal humans can pick up, although thosw only got ised in 30k (and 40k as the soulfire cannon used by magnus’ lads) Aye. The only wolfenstein weapon i actually liked in the new Games was the Hatchet. Even the knife in New Order was a total nightmare
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Krieger by 
Rotaken



The certified madlad


Huh neatWaitThat gun looks familiarHmmm. Ah.Whack


The Gatling MG42 is literally the worst fucking thing i have ever seen in my life of being interested in history and Videogames


Worst design yes and I can name so much of the pointless bullshit with itHell. Only remembered the piece of shit weapon because I once spent half an hour staring at its stock for study


Also didn’t it have like one or two mags? Those things only really held up to 100 shots at best. 200 shots for a Gatling gun mg42 that probably shoots even faster than the 1400rpm the original hasThat is no lmg. Thats a shotgun with a weight of like 40 kilos by the looks of it


It had 1 magazine. No reloadability (also had no dust tray cover release thing or drum release). Some bs about balancing. 250 rounds in game for somme reason. Last I checked those kinds of drums could only hold a 50 round belt. Lowest firerate on any modern rotary barrel weapon is 1000rpm of the Gau-19, the same wepaon can achive 2000rpm. But thats 50cal/12.7. Assuming this uses the same ammo as the MG42, than that would be 7.92×57, the nearest weapons we have for that is the US M134 which has a firerate of 3000rpm to 6000rpm or the Russian GShG-7.62 (a 4 barreled one) which has 3500rpm to 6000rpm. So realistically the 50 round belt would be used up in 1 second to half a second. The 250 belt would be 5 seconds to 2 and a half seconds. Thats nowhere near enough. So again, bad design. Also if it uses a belt it would need a delinker.The barrel shroud was left on each individual barrel, forcing the barrels apart. More weight. Would also need a more powerful rotor to spin it. Gatling weapons forgo barrel shrouds because the multiple barrels are to help cooling.The foregrip was in the right place but wasn’t reinforced enough/where it connects with the weapon needed to be a bit more forward.The barrels had to “spin up” first. That would realistically waste ammo. Electric rotart guns start firing immediately and at a high firerate which climbs over like, a second or two as the motor warms up. Also upon the trigger being released they stop spinning immediatly. But that things barrels kept spinning, which would eject unfired rounds. Also the barrels never seemed to line up with any kind of breach, instead coming to rest in some random ass place, no sense whatsoever.IT HAS NO SIGHTSWHERE IS ITS POWER SOURCE


That gun is a fucking mess and i hate it so much. 


The 1960 plasma one angers me more. (3 barrels that dont spin. Only one barrel is ever used. Why. Why then3 barrels. Somehow plays worse than that stupid ass gatling mg42/46. Bunch other reasons I’m too angry and tired for atm)Also as for the art that started this. 40k already has rotor cannons which normal humans can pick up, although thosw only got ised in 30k (and 40k as the soulfire cannon used by magnus’ lads)


Aye. The only wolfenstein weapon i actually liked in the new Games was the Hatchet. Even the knife in New Order was a total nightmare

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Liked: ironwoman359: 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 I love this
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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



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