#we should have never fished her out of the sea. literally drown

[freshgenshinmemes]

#do you think the only reason traveler lets paimon eat unsurmountable amounts of food is because they're fattening her up to finally eat her #this post has amassed so many paimon haters... thank you for supporting paimon hate. she contributes nothing to the story #we should have never fished her out of the sea. literally drown #genshin #genshin impact #i actually hate paimon so much please stfu and let me figure out if the story is still bad

[coralcatsea]

Literally though i cannot take the hc that Arthur cannot swim, like i get it sure whatever but c'mon!! In the UK you are never more than 2-3 hours away from the sea i dont get it. The UK is a swimming nation i know all of my friends in both public and private schools have at least one year of swimming lessons at their local swim bank. Plus the UK has that whole 'oh i do love to beside the seaside' ice cream/fish chips/caravan holiday culture that is so ingrained, like if anything Island Nations like Arthur and Kiku should be the best swimmers out of everyone. Although it is so funny to think about the idea that Arthur just told everyone he's a bad swimmer and nobody had the balls to call him out or just didnt question why a nation who spent half their time at the sea just cannot swim while japan is the only persons who's very much like 'we went swimming yesterday???'.

All excellent points!

If he did indeed claim he was a bad swimmer, I'll bet you it was just to avoid something he didn't feel like doing. 😆

I can't help thinking of that scene in Addams Family Values with Wednesday and the blonde girl pretending to drown and Wednesday has to save her but claims she can't swim, but with England and France instead, hahaha!

Also – England and Japan as swimming buddies, I like it! New headcanon, maybe.

#answered asks #hetalia #aph #hws #aph england #hws england #hws france #aph france

[shortguyswag]

HLS 12: Sea Fever

(read on Ao3 here)

ZELDA:

    Statement of Cahira Autumn, regarding…

Cahira:

    The sea. 

Zelda:

    Statement given April 3rd, 103 post-calamity, recorded directly from subject. 

Cahira:

    Before I begin, I want to make one thing very clear. I do not like talking about this. I haven’t even told my brother, and I tell him everything. The only reason I’m telling you this is because maybe if you guys know, someone will be able to do something to stop things like this from happening. 

    It happened when I was about 14, so 4 years ago, though it doesn’t feel like it’s been all that long since it happened. I was out on a fishing trip with my friends, our first one without any adults, we were 14, we could handle it. Our parents were hesitant, but we promised that we’d stay relatively close to the shore and they let us go. We kept that promise. We didn’t want to lose the chance to do this again. So when I jumped off the boat to get Leo’s fishing rod, it was more than a bit of a shock when literally everything was gone, and the boat was too. I mean I still had Leo’s fishing pole! I may have been stuck in a place a lot different than where I was, but at least I still had Leo’s fishing pole! I don’t know if my priorities were messed up, or if I was just trying to cling to the only positive that I could find, but that was what I focused on. There was nothing else around in any other direction, so it’s not like there was much else to focus on anyway.  

I don’t know why, and looking back, it was really stupid, but I started swimming. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Just… drown? Float there and hope whatever dropped me here had mercy on me and dropped me back home? No fucking thanks. So I swam. If I drowned, I was probably going to drown anyway and at least I did something. But I didn’t drown. I guess that’s obvious with the fact that I’m here talking to you but I shouldn’t be here. My arms should have given out. I don’t know how much swimming you’ve done, but it’s fucking exhausting. Especially for long distances, so I don’t know how far I swam, but I shouldn’t have been able to do that. Every time I started lagging something gave me just enough energy to swim a little longer. Eventually I just closed my eyes and let myself sink. I was never getting out of there, i figured i may as well accept it. And then as I sank, my feet brushed the bottom, and I realized that the water was shallow enough for me to stand again. I stood up and cleared the water from my eyes and I could see Lurelin. Bridgett saw me, and ran to give me a hug. I was really dehydrated at that point, so I think I said something really stupid like ‘I’ve got Leo’s fishing pole.’ and she just started crying and hugging me harder. Apparently they thought I was dead, which, honestly, I’m a little surprised I wasn’t. Bridgett’s hug was really warm though. 

Unfortunately, the ocean wasn’t comforting anymore. It felt like whatever decided to play with me for however long I was in that infinite expanse was always waiting. One wrong move, one moment of vulnerability, and I would be back there again! One misstep and I would be back in that… thing’s realm and I know that if I went there again, I would not make it out. 

[CHAIR SLIDING ON THE FLOOR]

Cahira: 

I hope you’re happy with that because that’s all you’re getting. 

[FOOTSTEPS, A SIGH] 

I do hope it helps. Really.

[DOOR CREAKS AND SHUTS]

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

Zelda:

I’m looking through some of the statements we salvaged from the old library, and I’m listening and thinking about this statement, and I can’t help but wonder why some of these things happened to these people. Is it just bad luck? Did they do something wrong? Were they in the wrong place? What was it that Miss Autumn did to get the attention of whatever was toying with her? Or was it just hungry, and she was just unlucky? [SIGH] I really don’t know. I’m staring in the face of things so much bigger than me, and I’m trying to understand, but I feel like I can never quite grasp anything more solid than air! Am I doing anything worthwhile, or is this just completely useless! I don’t know, and I don’t like that! [quieter] That scares me. Not knowing if I’m doing anything useful.

I think I need to get some food. Soup sounds nice.

[CLICK]

#Hyrule Library for the Supernatural #tma au #botw #ok i know it's probably not wise to post out of order #but consider #im tired and dont care #Orion is writin

[casseandra]

@thecodekeeper​ asked : What are Cassandra's feelings on humans? Has she ever had a close relationship with one? Has she ever been hurt or disappointed by a human?

okay this might be a bit long so let’s get right into this with necessary background on cassandra as her relationship with humans goes way back and evolves a lot after the event in damme.

you have to know that before the whole disaster of her cursing the harbour town of damme in flanders, cassandra had spent her whole life at the ( what is now the belgian & part of the dutch coast line ) coast line of flanders and in nearby river harbour towns. this was her home and because she was always near humans, mostly fishermen, she actually build up an extremely good relationship with the people of these parts. she looked out for them, she helped them with fishing and even warned them of oncoming storms and other dangers. in return she was left alone and no one bothered her, despite knowing the value she had should they catch her. it was an understanding based on mutual needs. in addition, cassandra was known to look out for the children who came close to the water & prevented them from falling in or instantly fished them out if they did when she was not around. even taught some how to swim here and there. so needless to say, cassandra had very positive and warm feelings towards humans & actually forged very close relationships to them throughout all her centuries spent in those parts. and those relationships went from platonic & familial ones to even some romances here and there, though those were rarer back then. 

cassandra was a benevolent & gentle presence, coexisting with humans, known to be the protector of fishermen and even sailors who went through her territory.

now this all changed near the end of the 13th century. 

this was when cassandra accidentally got trapped within fishing nets of fishermen from damme. at that time, she was actually laughing & expected them to laugh along, apologise and then throw her back into the water. the moment she realised they were not going to do that, that was when her heart first broke and her trust in humans slowly began to fracture. needless to say, their next actions  ( taking her onto land, locking her into a cage to parade her on the market square for money like some animal, neglecting her and leaving her to burn in the hot summer sun & causing lasting scars because of it ) completely shattered whatever trust she had in the people she had coexisted with for literally centuries at that point. it was the most painful thing she had ever experienced in her entire existence. it went far beyond humans hurting and disappointing her : this was an outright and horrible betrayal, something that never really left her.

we all know what comes next of course ; she’d been pleading with them for days, begging to release her and when they didn’t and mocked her, she cursed the whole town & silted up the harbour that had brought them prosperity. when she was thrown into the oubliette, she fully expected to die but she survived surprisingly due to the help of some younger children she’d played with and saved from drowning a few times. they gathered food at home and then dropped it down for her. that’s how she regained strength to get herself out of there. those children saved her from completely losing her trust in humans. fun fact is that she blessed those kids for what they did and they went on to thrive whilst the town fell into economic hardship.

after all this cassandra disappeared from the area & left the north sea to travel more. she had orginally settled down in that area & thought she’d stay there forever but it was quite ruined for her now and she’s been roaming the oceans & seas ever since. it took her a good two, three centuries to recover from the betrayal she suffered back then & has been a lot more cautious around humans since. the tale of what she did still follows her around at times, but she never did need to do something like that again. she’s since started contact with humans again but she’s gotten pickier about with which ones she wants to get in contact. for obvious reasons. 

she still forges friendships with humans she takes a liking to and has taken on a fair share of human lovers too despite her past. her trust in humans used to be greater, but now she limits it to single individuals rather than a community.

cassandra is doing great despite her suffering back then and she’s not afraid to go on land and mingle with humans superficially, causing some mischief here and there, and generally enjoying her life. ultimately, her connections to humans have not recovered to the degree they were before the disaster in damme as she was before that truly a part of whole communities. it’s a mistake she’s unwilling to make again.

#if u ask her if a human ever disappointed her she'll take out a list and it'll have the whole of damme on it except those kids #she's fine now tho but ultimately her relationship with humans changed which no one can blame her for #also i literally crawled back out of my bed to make this bc i was struck by inspo but rip me bc it's like nearly 3am now #all that i believe is true ( headcanon ) #thecodekeeper

[galactic-magick]

Oblivious: Tech x Reader

Request: Could u possibly do a Tech x Reader where the batch is on an ocean planet of sorts and tech and the reader are nerding out over something like tide pools and the rest of the batch is like “how are these two so smart yet so oblivious to their feelings?”

Summary: You and The Bad Batch settle on an ocean planet for the night, and you and Tech seem to know everything except your own feelings for each other.

Words: 1000+

Warnings: none

Author’s Notes: Had to do some research on tide pools for this one lmao, and I made up a bunch of fake star wars science that probably doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, earth science experts don’t come at me pls XD

-

-

-

Laying low has been incredibly difficult for you and The Bad Batch, none of you are exactly the type to “blend in.” You’ve been hopping all over the galaxy, until you come across a planet almost entirely covered in ocean. It’s habitable, but not many people live on it due to the lack of large segments of land.

Thankfully though, you find an island that’s big enough for your ship and make a landing. You run out into the fresh air, the smell of salt water and cool breeze filling your nose. Tech follows close behind, analyzing the planet’s climate and resources, and the rest soon after.

“The tides are going to get much higher over the next couple hours, we’re going to lose much of the land we have right now,” Tech says, moving down the beach. “Don’t set anything up past this point,”

“Can we build a fire?” Wrecker asks excitedly.

“Why would we need a fire? Our ship has a heating system,”

“Because I want to!” he crosses his arms. “And what if the ship runs out of heat?”

“I think that’s a great idea!” Omega pipes up. “I’ve never even seen a campfire before,”

“You haven’t?!” Wrecker takes her hand and points to the small forest of trees on the other side of the island. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Wait!” Tech calls after them, but they’re too fast. “Ugh. The wood is going to be too wet to use anyway, they’re wasting their time,”

“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to let them try,” you smile. “Besides, we’ll only be here a day or two at most, right?”

“I suppose,”

You skip across the rocks and sand, finding a couple tide pools with several sea creatures in them, “Look over here!”

“Careful, those are incredibly slippery,”

“I’ve never seen anything like these,” you poke at one. “Wait, didn’t you say high tide is later? That means the water will go even farther than this, we might be in trouble,”

“Not exactly. Tides are different depending on the gravitational pulls and phases of the moons, and this planet has three,”

“So?”

“So we’ll be fine,”

“This water is fresh, Tech. I don’t see how more moons changes the fact that these waves are going to drown us in a few hours,” you sigh. “Look, I get that you’re the intellectual around here, but I had ones like these back on my home planet, I know what I’m talking about,”

“Every planet is different, this one isn’t due for another tide that high for at least a couple weeks, the pools must just be deeper than average,”

“I guess you’re right,” you trust him, so you refrain from bickering any further. “Oh look! I think I’ve seen that fish before!”

“Really?” he cocks his head, looking towards where you’re pointing. “While interplanetary travel of non-sentient species is uncommon, it’s not impossible, although in most cases it’s considered an invasive species-“

“Nevermind,” you say as you lean closer. “It just looks similar,”

“Ah, I see,”

“You know, I love the kind of creatures in here, somehow they manage to survive despite the harsh conditions,” one of them crawls onto your hand. “They just stick to anything they can so they don’t get washed away by the water,”

“Especially somewhere like this,” he nods.

“What are you lovebirds going on about now?” Hunter exhales, walking up to you and barely holding back a smirk.

Both you and Tech immediately stop talking, avoiding eye contact. Sure, it’s true you fancy him a bit, but no way are you lovebirds of any sort. You bicker too much to ever admit your feelings anyway, and all your conversations are friendly or just exchanging thoughts and facts. Nothing special.

“You know,” Hunter continues. “You guys are the smartest people on the crew, but damn are you oblivious,”

He walks away, leaving you two in silence.

 -

 Against all odds, Wrecker and Omega actually do manage to make a fire for the evening. Omega’s eyes are glued to the flames, watching in awe and drowning out everything else.

You and Tech haven’t talked much since being called out by Hunter, not necessarily because you’re mad or bitter, but simply because you don’t know what to say.

Was Hunter right? Were you actually super into each other and you were just too stupid to see it?

Now that you think of it, Tech definitely treats you differently than everybody else. Not just because you’re not one of his brothers, but he genuinely goes out of his way to help and care about you. He’s super sweet when he wants to be.

As it gets later, most of the crew heads back to the ship to sleep. You’re honestly not that tired, so you stay by the fire, and Tech doesn’t leave either.

“Hey,”

“Hello,” he nods.

You scoot over until you’re sitting next to him, “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“Just…thinking,” he keeps staring forward at the fire. “For the first time in my life, I’m completely unsure about something,”

“How so?”

“Well, all my life, all our lives for that matter,” he gestures to the ship. “We’ve been born, raised, and trained to be soldiers. We’re literally created and grown for that purpose. We accept early on that we’ll probably never get the opportunity to live a normal life on our own terms. We don’t get the luxury of going where we want to go, staying where we want to stay. We don’t even get to choose our clothes or our food most of the time. We don’t get our own home, we don’t get to pick our jobs, we-“ he pauses. “We don’t get to fall in love,”

A quiet “oh” leaves your lips.

“Now that the Republic is gone, and we left the Empire, we’re not just soldiers anymore. We have the freedom to do all those things we couldn’t do. But how do I know what I should or shouldn’t pursue? How do I know what parts of normal life I should experience?”

You quickly lean in and kiss him, “You try it, Tech,”

He stares at you stunned, struggling to process what just happened.

“I…I think I should try it again. Just to be absolutely certain,”

“Of course,” you chuckle, kissing him again.

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch imagine #tech imagine

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 2: Birthday Boy

…in which Harry gets the birthday surprise he didn’t ask for.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Thank you for all the love for Harry and Ezi after chapter 1. Please let me know what you think about each chapter so I can be motivated to write faster 😆

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.

.

“Humans are so funny. You make up false stories about us and refuse to believe anything that isn’t the same as your imagination,” the siren said.

Harry tossed his head back and laughed. He held out a finger at her. “No, mermaids aren’t supposed to exist. You’re not supposed to exist.”

The siren narrowed her sharp gaze, and Harry quickly moved back a bit in fear of her grabbing his leg and pulling him into the water. To his surprise, she said, “And who are you to decide that? A useless human with a useless tail–”

“Okay, enough with the tail joke.”

“–can’t even survive the drowning deep. You don’t want to believe we exist, so you won’t have to carry the guilt of trashing our homes and murdering our kind.”

Baffled, Harry worked his jaw while silently cursing himself for never taking part in those debate classes back in school. Well, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that one day he would have to debate with a deadly siren in a cave on his goddamn birthday!

He shut his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Look, lady. I’m only one small human, with a bigger than average human tail, FYI.” The siren eyed at his crotch in disbelief, so he quickly crossed his legs. “But that’s beside the point! What I was trying to say was that, if you’re seeking revenge, I can’t satisfy you because I’m not responsible for trashing the ocean or shit like that. I’m a singer, alright? And I don’t even live here. I’m from London. A land far away. If you wanna murder a human, I suggest looking for Elon Musk.”

The siren stared at him like he was the mythical creature. “I’m not familiar with all the names you mentioned,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, which had been a big distraction for him. Good to know that he could still get horny while facing death.

“Don’t you guys have fish Wikipedia?” he asked, and she tilted her head, looking rather confused. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that you should know all the facts about humans. That sounded like discrimination against sirens.”

For the first time since Harry met this siren, she actually smiled at him. “You have a lot of funny words, you strange creature,” she said, her eyebrows knitted in fascination.

“You know what?” Harry exhaled sharply. “Since you’re my kidnapper, I’m gonna stop arguing with you in case you still wanna kill me. But today is my birthday, so I can’t be kidnapped. I haven’t posted a thank you message on Twitter yet, and I might get cancelled for that. Celebrities get cancelled for literally anything nowadays. It’s annoying.” The siren blinked at him, her pink lips slightly parted. “Right,” he breathed. “You don’t have a Twitter account.”

“You said you were a singer.”

“That’s all you got from my long speech?”

“What is it? Singer.”

Harry bit his dry lip and frustratedly combed his fingers through his damp hair. “I sing. Use my voice to entertain other people.”

“Oh, like sirens.”

“I guess.”

“Except that we use our voice to kill people.”

“What?”

“Sing for me,” said the siren despite Harry’s horrified look. She seemed excited as she rested her folded arms on a boulder and gazed up at him with a twinkle in her crystal clear blue eyes. “Let’s hear it. I didn’t know humans could sing. Let’s see if it’s good.”

“Fine.” Harry blew out his cheeks and cleared his throat.

He began to sing.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise–”

“What’s a rainbow paradise?” the siren asked, but he didn’t stop singing to answer her.

“–brown skin and lemon over ice.”

“Why are you singing nonsense words?”

Once again, he ignored her, this time, closing his eyes. “I get so lost inside your eyes. Don’t you believe it? You don’t have to say you love me.”

“Love,” the siren repeated the word as if she had never heard of it in her whole life.

Harry opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him as if she could see right through him. He went on, “You don’t have to say you’re mine. Oh honey, I-i-i-i walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you.”

“Why would you walk through fire for someone?” the siren wondered out loud as she stared off into the distance, her strong brows knitted. “That's stupid. Fire is hot. I saw the humans on the boats use it one night. I almost burned my fingers trying to touch it.”

“Yeah, don’t play with fire.”

“Then why would you walk through it?”

The siren pouted, and Harry caught himself smiling at her naivety. “It’s supposed to mean that you’d do anything for the person you love. Even risking your life.”

“That’s stupid,” the siren repeated her earlier remark. For a second, Harry saw a curious little girl and not a dangerous sea creature from earlier.

“Well, it’s just a song,” Harry told her. “I personally wouldn’t do that for anyone, either, but some people do love with all they have, and would sacrifice everything for the one they love.”

An angry frown had replaced the siren’s previous perplexed expression. “Some humans murder the ones they claim to love,” she said in a cold voice. Harry felt a chill running down his spine, but then the siren went on with a softened expression. “Sirens are not supposed to love. Love is a weakness for my kind.”

Harry nodded. “Bet you don’t even have a heart.”

The siren cocked her head; a corner of her mouth raised subtly. “Every living and breathing thing has a heart. Sometimes it’s valuable. Sometimes it's not.”

“Only valuable if it’s the heart that you want,” replied Harry.

For a long moment, the siren looked into his eyes as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Could she do that? Read his thoughts?

Beads of sweat were trickling down his back as his heart began to race; he could hear it in his ears. Suddenly, the siren was pulled beneath the water. Harry stiffened at once. The ocean was still for a moment, then two sparkling tails burst through the surface. Harry’s jaw fell slack with a soundless scream when he saw another siren sinking her fangs into the first one's neck.

The other siren had bright red hair and a silver tail. There were visible scars all across her pale, lanky arms, and he couldn’t see her face. Legs too stiff to run and hide, he stood on the edge and watched in absolute terror. The scene in front of him was madness as the sirens screeched, their tails flapping, creating violent waves as they sank their claws and teeth into each other’s flesh. Harry could see blood. The first siren was not as strong as the one that was attacking her. He must save her. Maybe a part of him knew that she wasn’t entirely evil. Maybe because she was the only hope for him to get home. Either way, he couldn’t just stand by and watch her die.

Before Harry could even think of a way, a bony hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him into the sea.

.

.

.

Harry’s dreams were thick with blood and haunted by the siren’s face. He’d been in the dark water, drowning, and the last thing he’d seen was her sapphire eyes glowing with the sunlight above as she’d stretched out her arm to grab him before he sank deeper. He woke up gasping, still feeling the saltiness of the ocean on his tongue and the pressure of water on his lungs.

He found himself lying on his bed, fully naked under the covers. Had he been dreaming?

Kneading his temple to chase away the headache, Harry scanned his sore eyes around the room and screamed when he saw her sitting in the corner. Naked. He looked away as soon as he caught her ocean blue eyes staring back.

The siren was in his room. And she had legs!

“You’re alive!” she exclaimed.

He heard her standing up but couldn’t bring himself to look. She sat down on the edge of his bed, smelling like the ocean. Not the fishy kind of smell; one that was unique, and Harry liked it even though he shouldn’t.

“This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” he mumbled to himself while clutching the duvet to his chest.

The siren, now a human girl, let out a sigh. “It’s not. This is real. I’m real.”

“You’re not.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re...naked.”

Even though Harry wasn’t looking, he could feel her questioning gaze pinning on him. He grabbed the covers and shoved them at her. “Cover yourself.”

“Oh...okay.” The siren did as she was told as Harry quickly placed a pillow on his private part. He finally looked at her, and she smiled while covering her upper body and the area between her legs with the duvet.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Better. Okay, why are you here?”

The siren’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember?”

Harry shook his head.

“We were talking when my sister attacked me, then dragged you into the water. You were lucky I saved you twice and brought you back to where I’d found you. This is the only palace on this beach, so I assumed it was yours.”

Harry sat and stared her face, trying to detect a lie but failed.

The siren rolled her eyes. She seemed disappointed as she swept her long black hair over her shoulder, exposing the huge bite mark on her long pale neck. The skin had healed, and the blood had dried, but the area was still bruised. Harry fought the urge to touch it. There was no way this was really happening.

The siren shot a glance at his ankle. And that was when Harry noticed the red claw mark around it. He shivered at the flashbacks of a siren with red hair and a silver tail charging straight at him with her mouth wide open, her sharp teeth ready to tear off his flesh.

“Sorry about my sister. She could be very...deadly,” the siren in front of him said, looking remorseful.

Harry eyed her up and down once again. Finally, he broke his silence, “What happened to your tail?”

The siren refused to look him in the eye as she said, “My mother found out that I saved you, a human, so she cursed me.”

“Cursed you?”

The siren said nothing; the corners of her mouth lowered as she stared down sadly at her legs.

What kind of The Little Mermaid plot is this? Harry thought to himself, yet didn’t say it because it shouldn’t be a joke. She’d lost her tail, which meant she couldn’t go back to the ocean. Ariel from The Little Mermaid had wished to become a human. This girl had been cursed with the life she never wanted just to save him twice.

Harry buried his face into his palms. “Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“It is your fault.”

His head whipped up at her honest response. “You always say what you think, don’t you?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Harry sighed and ran his palm over his face. “Never mind. How...how do I get you back to your mermaid form?”

“Siren.”

“Sorry, siren. How do I help turn you back?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly, clutching the duvet to her chest. “But I need a place to stay until I figure it out.”

Harry thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ll pay for your hotel room.”

“What’s a hotel?” the siren asked, her eyes round. “And why can’t I stay here in your palace? It’s big and you live alone.”

“This is a house, not a palace,” Harry said. “But I’m going back to London tomorrow, and I can’t take you with me.”

“Where is London? I want to see London.”

Seeing her so excited made Harry laugh. “No, you don’t; trust me. It’s not sunny there. Always dark and gloomy and raining.”

“It’s not sunny underwater, either.”

Harry held up a finger and kept his mouth open for a moment as he pondered over what she’d said. “Good point. But I’m still not taking you to London. That’s not a good idea.”

The siren’s eyebrows drew together. “It was your fault I’m in this situation.”

Harry gasped. “You’re so manipulative!”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“It means you say things like that to get me to feel sorry for you, and so I have to help you.”

“Oh, then, yeah, I’m manipulative,” the siren said. “Take me to London with you, or I’ll find you in London and make your life hell.”

Harry tossed his head back and groaned. As if he hadn’t been traumatised enough by all the events that had happened today, now he had to take responsibility for the life of a mythical creature. If he had been a bad guy, he would have just let the government have her and keep her in a lab like that Oscar-winning movie about the dead girl and her fish lover. But Harry wasn’t a villain. Sure, he could be an asshole, but he couldn’t betray someone who’d risked her life to save his. Twice.

Maybe if he’d just say yes and then leave quickly in the morning, he wouldn’t have to deal with her. He’d ask someone to take care of her, pay for a place for her to stay and her food. Her mother would have to take her back eventually. He didn’t know about sirens, but even in the animal kingdom, mothers never abandoned their children.

“Fine, I’ll take you to London,” he said. Seeing the smile on her face, he was lowkey thankful that he was so good at lying. “First, you have to put some clothes on. Wait here.”

Carefully, he slipped out of bed, holding a pillow in front of his crotch and one behind him to cover his butt, then padded awkwardly to his closet to change and get her something to wear. When he returned, she was still sitting on his bed, humming a familiar song and kicking her feet as if testing out her new body parts. He found it endearing, but of course, he wouldn’t tell her.

He handed her a bathrobe. “Put this on. I’ll find some real clothes for you later.”

The siren accepted the bathrobe and stared at it as if she’d been told to put it in her mouth and chew. She glanced up at him. “I don’t understand the purpose of this.”

“To cover up your private parts.”

Suddenly, she seemed sad. “I think I’m broken.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

She looked at him again, pouting. “I don’t have a tail.”

“I can see that.”

“No, I mean, a tail like yours.”

When Harry realised what she meant, his face burned, and he cleared his throat into his fist. “You’re not supposed to,” he said awkwardly. “You’re...a female. I bet male sirens don’t look the same as you, right?”

“There’s no male sirens,” she told him.

Harry cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes. “Huh? Then how do you guys...you know?”

She blinked innocently at him. She didn’t know.

“Mate.” The word made Harry cringe. “How do you mate?”

“Sirens mate with mermen. We only need them for children.”

“Okay, that’s...new…”

Harry would be glad to find out more, but this was definitely not the right time. He waved his hand, urging her to hurry up. Clumsily, the siren got to her feet. Harry didn’t intend to stay here while she changed, but since she could barely keep her balance, she had to hold onto his arms. He stood there, staring at the ceiling as the duvet dropped. She was completely naked in front of him now and so dangerously close. The voice inside his head was telling him not to peek. Fuck. Why did she have to be sexy?

“Do you...um...do you need help?” he asked as she seemed to be struggling with the bathrobe.

“No, thanks. I got it!” she said between ragged breaths, then, “Hey your tail is growing!”

Harry’s eyes dropped to the front of his boxers, his face heating at the sight of his erection. He gently pushed her back onto the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” she shouted after him. “I need to see it in its full form!”

“This is its full form!”

“It’s still small.”

“Shut up! It’s not!”

.

.

.

Ezili felt bad for lying to this human.

Well, lying was the whole point of her mission, but he had been so nice to her when he found out she couldn’t return to the ocean. She blamed her new human heart for these emotions. Siren Ezili would never feel sorry for this ugly creature. No, wait, this one wasn’t ugly. The mermen were ugly. As much as she despised humans, she must admit that most of them were beautiful.

When this human wasn’t looking, Ezili would regard him with as much curiosity as he had regarded her in secret. The way his brown curls swept back messily. His defined jawlines. The deep dimples in his cheeks. The look of wonder in his eyes. He looked about her age, but his eyes were innocent, greener than seaweed.

She looked away as he caught her gawking. They were sitting at a small table on the floor. The room was darkly lit by the light in the corner. On the table was a mushy pile with little fire sticks on top.

“What is this?” Ezili asked, inspecting the object.

The human smiled at her, the firelight dancing in his leaf-green eyes as he said, “It’s a cake. We’re celebrating my birthday.”

“You told me not to play with fire.”

“We’re gonna put it out anyway.” He winked at her. “A little fire won’t hurt.” Ezili watched the human take out a little black thing and flick his thumb. Fire flared out, making Ezili flinch. “Relax,” he chuckled and the fire vanished. “This is called a lighter. It makes fire. This is a cake. These are candles.”

“What do we do with the cake?”

“We eat it.”

“You eat fire?”

The human laughed at Ezili’s distressed look. “No, silly. We blow out the candles, then eat the cake.”

“Oh,” she said, making him laugh harder. She found it disrespectful and annoying. Was this creature making fun of her? “What’s so funny?” she asked through gritted teeth.

The human stopped laughing, yet his dimples were still visible. “I can’t believe I’m celebrating my twenty-fourth with a siren,” he said.

“Who do you usually celebrate with?” Ezili asked.

“My friends or family,” the human said. “My friends were supposed to be here but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather.” The sadness in his eyes disappeared as he gave a dismissive wave and laughed. “Oh well, it’s not bad being alone. In fact, I’ve been alone my whole life.”

“That’s sad,” Ezili murmured, mesmerized by the candles.

“It’s not,” replied the human. “Some people live their whole life surrounded by others, and yet, they’re still lonely.”

As he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, smiled, and blew out the candles, Ezili sat there and pondered over his last words.

They didn’t eat the cake right away, because the humans said they ought to eat it after dinner. Apparently, humans ate three main meals a day—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sirens ate when they were hungry, so this was very new to Ezili. She picked up the small shiny thing that shaped like her mother’s trident and pushed around the foods on her plate. “What is this?”

“Fish,” the human said with a smile.

“Dead?”

“You expect me to eat alive fish?”

Ezili scowled at him. “That’s what we eat.”

“You’re human now. Try cooked fish.”

When she didn’t do anything but stare at the plate, the human nudged her hand with his knuckles. “Come on. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you the raw fish in the fridge.”

Ezili doubted that this imbecile creature would poison her with these colourful foods to get away with his responsibility, but at the same time, nothing was impossible.

However, she would probably faint if she didn’t eat. This dinner actually smelled good, and her stomach was rumbling because she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. And so she stabbed the fish’s burned flesh with her little trident, closed her eyes and put it into her mouth. It was soft, salty and a bit spicy, and...surprisingly delicious. She quickly took another bite, and another, and another.

“Wow, you’re really hungry, huh?” The human chuckled. “You like it?”

Ezili nodded fast, unable to answer because her mouth was full.

The human seemed satisfied. “Good. Means I’m a great cook.”

Ezili chewed fast and swallowed as the human began to eat. She tried to copy the way he held the little trident and the knife, and felt like she’d changed. Her mother would hate her so much for enjoying this. And Koa would make sure everyone in their kingdom knew and turn her into a laughing stock.

“Do you have any questions for me?” she said, breaking the silence, mostly to distract herself from thinking about the mission and her family.

The human thought for a second. “Hmmm, I have a bunch so I don’t know where to start.” Then, after a pause, “Why did your mum do this to you? Doesn’t she love you?”

Ezili wished she could stab him for bringing up the topic she’d been trying to avoid. Instead, she sucked in a breath. “She does. It’s just...the way sirens show love is different from humans. We teach our children to be strong from the moment they are born. Sirens live dependent on one another to survive, and so we always have to look out for one another. I guess that’s love for us. My mother is the Sea Queen. She’s very powerful, and so she has high hopes for my sister and I. My sister is better than me, though. I’ve always envied her.”

“Your sister is scary as hell,” the human remarked. “But if your mum is the Queen, you must be a princess.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, so does that make me Prince Eric?”

“Your name is Eric?”

“No,” the human chuckled. “It’s a reference from The Little Mermaid. You should watch that film. You’d probably hate it though. Anyway, it’s so weird that we don’t know each other’s name. I’m Harry.” The human, well, Harry, put his hand across the table. Ezili didn’t know what to do with it so she just stared.

“I’m Ezili.”

Harry smiled, picked up her right hand and shook it. His hand was bigger than her and warm. She liked it.

“Cool name. Can I call you Ezi?”

Ezili instantly pulled her hand back. “No, you filthy creature. That’s not my name!”

“Ezi is short for Ezili.”

“What?”

Harry ignored the look of confusion she was giving him. “Or I could call you Bubbles. That’s a cute nickname.”

“Why Bubbles?”

“Because…” He tossed his head back and groaned. “Damn, woman, you gotta read the story, too. I can’t make these jokes if you don’t get the references.”

Ezili had so many questions. Just as she was about to ask, the black thing on the table lit up and started playing a song that startled Ezili.

“Sorry. My mum’s calling,” Harry said as he picked up the thing and swiped his fingers across it. “Right on time.”

“Is your mother trapped in that thing?” Ezili asked, clutching the hem of the shirt Harry had told her to wear. It was too big on her but she loved that it was comfortable and kept her warm.

“No, this is a phone,” Harry said, shaking the magical device with light coming out of it. “So my mum’s in London, and when she calls me on the phone, her voice gets transferred through it, and I can hear what she says.” He pushed himself up and told Ezili, “I’ll be right back.”

Once Harry was gone, Ezili sat there and tried her best to process all the new information. It was only her first night on land and she was already going through it. This mission was harder than she thought. Still, she had no choice but to continue. She must have that heart, and her mother would be so proud.

.

.

.

When Harry woke up this time, he was on his private jet.

“Hey.”

He screamed, causing Ezi to fall back into her seat in front of him. He whipped his head around and saw that they were the only two people in this cabin. Before he could even come up with a question, Ezi got up, her hand resting on either side of his seat as she leaned forward, until her face was so close to his that he could smell the vanilla scent of the cake in her breath.

Her eyes sharpened at once. “I know you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No...I didn’t.”

“You did, Harry. You were going to leave me at your beach house. I heard you talking on the phone last night with someone else after talking to your mum. You mentioned a hotel room.”

Harry had booked a room for her on the phone last night. He should have done it on the website.

“But guess what?” A corner of her mouth lifted. “I might not have the ability to control tides anymore, but I still have my voice. And so I can control humans with it. I sang you to sleep last night. Then when your servants came to take you to this metal bird, I made him carry you to the magic black carriage and I came here with you. You think you’re one step ahead, you’re wrong. Try that again. I dare you.”

Harry swallowed hard. He could feel his palms sweating as he rubbed them against his thighs. “Okay, I’m sorry for that,” he said.  “But you can’t control people like that. If someone found out what you’re capable of...what you are...you’d be in big trouble.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow as she slowly backed away and stood straight with her arms across her chest. Thank God, Harry’s mother called just in time. He immediately got up and excused himself to answer the phone. He left a pouty Ezili in the cabin and went to the exit to talk to his mother.

“My precious boy, are you on the plane right now?”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry sighed.

“Good. I just need the name of your date for the seat arrangement.”

Harry stiffened for a second then quickly glanced over his shoulder to check if Ezi was eavesdropping. Fortunately, she was distracted by a magazine.

“Like now?” he asked his mum.

“Yes. Last night you told me you found one.”

Yes, Harry remembered that part, but he’d only said that so his mum would stop pestering him.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.”

“Her name?”

He hesitated before saying, “Ezili Hans.”

Hans as in Hans Christian Andersen. The writer of The Little Mermaid. If he had the energy to be happy, he’d give himself a pat on the back for the creativity.

“Great,” his mother said, sounding as if he’d just told her he was getting married. “I’m so excited to meet this girl.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I-I said ‘Well, of course’,” Harry said and covered it up with a nervous laugh.

When he got off the phone with his mum, he felt a light tap on the shoulder and turned around to see Ezi. Shit, had she listened to–

“I promise I won’t use my singing voice to control you again,” she said, to his surprise. "Please. I cannot survive on my own." She twisted the hem of his band-tee uneasily. Even though she looked super cute in his t-shirt and joggers, she was still too underdressed for someone that was travelling on a private jet.

“Fine. You can stay,” he heard himself say while trying to imagine her with actual clothes that fit her.

Ezi’s blue eyes lit up, and the smile that rarely showed up on her face caught Harry off guard. He almost forgot what was happening.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “But we need to set up some rules.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles wrting #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Bones in the Ocean

Aaaand three years since I've written anything for this bastard, and now he's back in my head. I knew this would happen. It's sort of a companion piece to Captured, although they're not really necessary to read together. I just used the same shieldmaiden construct for the basis of my reader-insert. Will eventually feature some rough smut/hate-fucking, but this is just the introductory part, really.

TW for choking and Ivar literally being on a suicide mission (nobody actually dies, though!)

Ivar x Reader.

Ivar is convinced the gods made a mistake when they let him survive the shipwreck he got into when he accompanied Ragnar to England.

You are Ivar's most prized shieldmaiden, and even though you seldom get along, there is nothing you wouldn't do for him. Including accompanying him into Rán's fishing nets, if that's what he needs of you.

AO3, if you prefer

You secure the final knot, satisfied as the sail snaps above you. Your hands burn just a little from the way the rope had slid through your fingers, the ship eager to be on her way as a prancing yearling. “This really is Floki’s best work,” you muse, not bothering to look down at Ivar. You’d just as soon talk to yourself, anyway. At least you aren’t a dick most times.

“A boat and a shieldmaiden worthy of the gods,” Ivar answers darkly, and although you feel his heavy eyes on you, you fight the urge to meet his gaze.

“And a warlord descended from Odin himself,” you finish softly, ignoring the goosebumps that rise on your arms and the back of your neck. You swear you almost feel the one-eyed god here, but you are not Floki and you cannot commune with gods, no daughter of legendary warriors worthy of their halls. Only the most loyal battle-companion of Ivar the Boneless, the shield at his back and the sword at his side in battle after battle; the one he conquers when victory on the battlefield is simply not enough; the one he always threatens to sacrifice to the gods before every battle.

“Warlord,” Ivar spits bitterly. “I am not worthy of the title.”

The mood on the small vessel is tense, even the wind itself suddenly goes still. It wants no part of this madman’s errand. You reach for the rope, thinking maybe you should reef the sails and start rowing, but the wind picks up and the sails swell again.

You finally look over at Ivar for the first time since you lost sight of land, and immediately wish you hadn’t. He’s gazing toward the horizon, a faraway look on his beautiful face, icy eyes the softest you’ve ever seen them, the same perfect blue as the ocean beneath the ship. The wind plays with a wisp of hair that’s come loose from his elaborate braids, and your fingers itch to tuck it behind his ear.

You don’t dare touch him, with that faraway look in his eyes and a madman’s quest on his mind. For what must be the thousandth time since you swore yourself to Ivar, shield and sword and soul, you ask yourself what you were thinking, but you already know the answer. Any warrior can serve an easy lord, but  an easy lord will not get a warrior into the halls of the gods.

And just like that you’ve made your choice, drawing your axe on instinct alone in the half-dozen steps it takes you to cross the small vessel. He hears your footsteps and unsheathes his sword, full lips curling into that smirk you know so well, the one you love and hate, that makes you want to worship him and kill him all at once.

“Warlord,” you answer him, fierce and low, as his sword brushes your blow aside. “Son of Ragnar.” You chop toward his sword-arm, he dodges quickly. “Ivar the Boneless.” Your swing glances off the shoulder of his leather armor, but you don’t have enough force behind the blow for it to sink into flesh.

Ivar, however, is not so considerate. Quick as lightning, his arm twists up and his fingers clamp around your wrist. Before you can even react, your axe clatters to the ship’s belly, your wrist twisted and fingers useless. “How am I supposed to sail this boat if you break my arm?” You bite out, trying in vain to pull your arm from his merciless grasp.

“And how am I supposed to right the mistake of the gods if you kill me before we reach our destination?” He retorts, voice low and silky.

“Mistake! They didn’t want you, Ivar! The gods don’t make mistakes.”

He yanks you even closer, pulling you off balance and increasing the nearly unbearable tension in your wrist, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of flinching. His face is an inch from yours; his breath ghosts over your skin as he chuckles softly. “Not a mistake, then. A punishment, to leave me behind, since now I must suffer the arrows that fly from your tongue.”

“Punishment for what?” His eyes are unfathomable, holding all the secrets of the sea, and you know without a doubt you’ll drown if you don’t force yourself to break his gaze.

“For not sacrificing them to you the first time I saw you,” he breathes, his other hand moving up to rest on your throat, just below your chin. His thumb strokes over the pulse-point there, and he chuckles at how frantically your heart is racing. “The instant I saw you across that battlefield, dealing death to Saxons, I knew you would deliver me victory after victory. I knew I had to give you to the Valkyries, to earn those victories myself, and yet.” His grip on your throat tightens, the edges of your vision darkening. “And yet I could not. You are my downfall, Y/N.”

“And you are my victory,” you rasp around his iron fingers, barely a gasp. You fight his grip on your arm and neck to lean toward him, and he relents just enough. The kiss is all teeth and the taste of blood; the giddiness of air when Ivar releases his grip on your throat.

He tangles his fingers in your hair to tilt your head back and inspect the marks of his fingers, and his smile is something feral, his eyes hard and hungry. Your cunt is throbbing as he inspects you, and he must see the want in your eyes because his smile shifts into a cocky smirk. “This is not the proper time, Y/N.” He releases your hair and plants his hand in the center of your chest. You stumble as he pushes you toward the steering oar in the rear of the ship.

You grab the oar, and the ship turns to your lightest touch. If you weren’t so worked up, you would be able to admit that it is the most responsive ship you have ever steered. As it is, all you do is glare at Ivar, and his laughter fills you with fury. You should have never looked at him to begin with.

#vikings #vikings fic #ivar's heathen army #ivar x y/n #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #vikings imagine #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson

[twsty-lav]

@Yuus I heard rumors that the Leech family is probably involved in some sort of mermaid mafia stuff because of the twins’ birthday stories. Relatives and family friends giving them gifts to get on their family’s good side and signing contracts with their dad to say that giving them gifts do not have any hidden agenda??? Suspicious

Floyd’s cute though ngl even though he acts like a very clingy and moody cat. Also the nickname giving is kind of cute. Still an a**hole though. Jade??? He’s “nice” I guess. His mushroom hobby is adorable. Not as cute as Floyd though. Also an a**hole.

Also does Floyd all call you guys Shrimpy??? I was expecting more variety especially with promised twst! Yuu. Shrimpy sounds a bit TOO casual you know what I’m saying?

“The Leech twins? Again? Urgh.”

“Aw, c’mon... At least we get to talk, right?”

“Yeah, yeah! I can’t wait! It’s gonna be so cool!”

“... Yustine, can you be a little bit quieter...? My eardrums...”

“Please be a little quieter.”

“Now, now. We’re about to start. Line up, everyone.” 

1. Quinn Yu (LB! Yuu)

“What? Seriously? I couldn’t tell what was going on at all! Is that what he said, for real? You’re not pulling my leg, right?” Quinn says, face scrunching up in confusion. It appears as if they don’t really know how to feel about it in the slightest. “... I mean, even if it’s real, maybe they’re just careful... Or something. Besides, doesn’t Azul do the contract thing too? Well, as long as they don’t try and do something with me, I don’t really care... I think. Probably. I’ll just be careful around their parents, if I ever meet them.” They nod to themselves reassuringly.

“I mean, I like them! They’re not that bad. Floyd is fun to hang out with, although that might be because I just go along with whatever he’s doing. Jade... Is kind of scary, but I don’t think I’ve gotten on his bad side just yet. Also, I don’t know anything about shrimp, but Floyd always calls me ‘koebi-chan’... Rude. At least use ‘san’ at the end instead...” Quinn huffs in indignation. “I’m not short!”

(”... Should we tell them that ‘shrimp’ and ‘koebi’ mean the same thing?”

“Nah, nah, it’s funny.”)

.

2. Yustine Gibson (Protag!Yuu)

Yustine shakes their head, frowning. “Whaaat? Really? No way, he never said anything about mafia! I’m sure their dad’s just paranoid! Or maybe they just wanna be real clear about it!” They insist in earnest, practically jumping up and down. “You shouldn’t listen to rumors like that, you know! It’s no good to speak bad about people behind their backs! ‘Sides, Jade’s pretty nice, so I’m sure their parents are good folk, too.”

(In the distance, Jade... feels oddly guilty about something. Haha, just kidding.)

“See? You agree with me! Jade’s nice! And if he’s nice, he can’t be a meanie, right...?” A pause. “Wait--Um, I don’t get what you’re saying anymore...” Yustine blinks at you in confusion, looking somewhat like a lost, forlorn little puppy. 

How could you do this to them. 

... You tell them not to think on it too hard. “Oh, okay!” They perk back up happily. “Does Floyd call me shrimp? Nop-e! He usually calls me flying-fishie, or something like that. He says it’s ‘cause I jump around alot! Which is true! Cause it’s fun!” Yustine laughs brightly. “Hmm... Maybe I should give him a nickname, too?”

(”Please don’t.”

“... Like Yuuya said, it’s probably better if you don’t.”)

.

3. Yuuya (NoRES!Yuu)

“Remind me to never go underwater. Not that I was planning to, but... Double remind me to never go underwater.” Yuuya sighs. “I’m not risking my skin any more than I have to already... Well, even if they are doing something weird, I’ll just keep my nose out of it. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine! Haha! Hahaha! Ha!” 

You give them a moment. 

Eventually, the (only slightly) hysterical laughter stops. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. Cute? Nice? Ugh... I mean, they act nice... But I don’t like being near them any longer than I have to... Well, I guess there was that one time they had to throw me off the nearest bridge, cause of Jamil? So I’m grateful. I think.” Yuuya pulls a face, face twisting. “Anyways, whatever. As for nicknames? They just call me shrimpy. Yep.”

.

4. Yulia (Mama!Yuu)

“Oh, really? Fascinating. I might have to look into it. Thank you for the information.” Yulia smiles gratefully, dipping her head in a half-curtsy. “Oddly enough, I never heard of it before. But then again, perhaps the Leeches are more on guard with me than the others.” The ‘others’ being the Yuus, that is. “Well, as long as they’re not in power aboveground.” Or dealing with human flesh. 

Then they might have problems.

Yulia seems a little surprised at your description of Floyd. “Clingy? I suppose his squeezing could be interpreted that way. He is rather moody, though. Is that something that is considered ‘catlike’? I’ve only met one cat in my life--And Grim doesn’t seem like the typical feline.” She admits. “Leech Junior... I like dealing with him more, but I like him less as a character. Adorable is not exactly the word I’d use for him.” 

“The nicknames? Oh, I’ve heard him refer to me as a ‘sand tiger shark’... But not particularly to my face, actually. A shark... I can’t help but feel a little pleased.” Yulia giggles, eyes curving in humor.

You wonder if either of them know that sand tiger sharks are known for fraternal cannibalism.

... 

(You decide not to ask.)

.

5. Yuel (Yancheck!Yuu)

Yuel squints at a blade of grass by their feet, clearly disinterested. “Huh? Oh, that... I mean, I guess it’s sketchy, but they also break into my bedroom every other weekend... So it’s not exactly alarming. Or suspicious. At least, not in comparison.” They shrug lazily. “I don’t really have an opinion on them by themselves, either. Sometimes I mix them up... They don’t like it very much. They’re just... Kind of a set, aren’t they? Mushroom man and Squeezy.” Jazz hands.

“Oh, they just call me Angelfish... Cause y’know... Angel. Fish. Not really creative, if you ask me.” 

They... Seem a little disappointed. Hmm.

(Yuuya gags. “Oh, god, I think I’m gonna vomit.”

“It’s not that bad. I think it’s sweet. Um, without the kidnapping part! Kidnapping is illegal, kids!”)

.

6. Yukio (Magirl!Yuu)

“I remember that. I’m concerned, honestly.” Yukio grumbles, twirling a lock of pink hair between their fingers, “Their parents are mafia... Seriously, is everyone related to NRC doing something shady?” 

A pause. 

Yukio coughs. “Don’t answer that. Anyways, it’s totally suspicious! And it’s crazy that nobody else in this room is worried about it! I’m not being paranoid, right? Right?” They look pleadingly to you for support, now tugging at the strands curled around their hand. “They’re so scary... I don’t wanna be drowned under the sea... One time, when they got summoned instead of Azul? Jade gave me a look, and I swear... My life flashed before my eyes! Ah, I want to cry...” Yukio buries their face in their hands.

“Ah. I just remembered. Floyd calls me pygmy. Like the seahorse. Cause they’re pink. And small. Ah. Ah. I seriously gonna cry...” 

#twst #twst oc #oc interaction #twst yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #floyd leech #jade leech #yuuniverse #promised twstland au #no res au #twst language barrier au #pretty twst au #yandere vibe check au #protag!yuu #azul ashengrotto

[ayliamc]

Kauai Trip

Day 2

Steps: 10,670

Notable Discoveries: a mother fracking sea turtle!

What a day! Dan and I woke early, taking advantage of our still being on California time, to walk along the coastline outside our rented condo to see the sunrise. A beautiful view but a slightly underwhelming sunrise. Still it was nice. We got to see a lot of nenes (Hawaiian geese) and those roosters who only stop crowing from between about 8pm and 1am. Not sure why they feel the need to crow in the dead of night but I suppose they really want people to know they’re there.

Then breakfast with a beautiful view! And Dan, dad, and I went for a hike to Queen’s Bath, ignoring all the numerous signs saying we should definitely not be doing what we were doing - except all these other people were doing it so like… Seriously though there was a locked gate with a sign saying to use the public access trail (nonexistent as far as we could tell) but the gate was so short we just… walked around it. Literally. The hike was not strenuous, but a little precarious. Slippery and numerous footfalls, but absolutely beautiful.

When we got down to the bottom, we found ourselves at a lava rock field on the shore where we could skirt our way along the coast for maybe half a mile and marvel at the view, the breaking waves, and even more signs warning us against doing what we were doing. There were some pretty impressive waves that made me grateful it wasn’t worse or we could have gotten swept out to sea and never heard from again. Which has happened to a few people. Hence the signs.

We got back in time to pack an early lunch and head back to Anini beach where we set up camp with some overpriced snorkeling equipment Dan and I got (two stores away from where the literal same brand was 30% cheaper). We ate half our lunch and went into the ocean.

A note on Aylia and the sea: she hates it. It’s cold and scary and filled with creatures who belong there while she does not.

A note on Aylia and snorkeling: she panics. It is unnatural to breathe underwater! So when she puts her head under the surface it’s near impossible to take a steady breath without being convinced that she will I hale water and drown.

Ok, so my first attempt at snorkeling was a failure. I did fully submerge into the ocean which in and of itself was a victory because of my relationship with the ocean and cold water.

Dad was way out there, floating peacefully, for a very long time. We couldn’t imagine what he was seeing out there, which is why none of us tried to join him. But when we got back to shore to eat the rest of our lunch, he told us, with shiny wide dreamy eyes, that he saw two green sea turtles!

We stayed on the beach for a while, jealously imagining the turtles who may or may not still be out there, and people watching, when dad decided he was going to go back in to see if he could find them again. I really didn’t want to go back in the water. I have no real way of describing how unappealing it was to me. To get wet again, have to go through the whole painful process of submerging in the cold ocean, to try my hand at snorkeling again - which I had failed so spectacularly before, hyperventilating and flailing every time I put my head under - but the draw of the turtles was great, as was my fear of regret if I didn’t try.

So dad and I went back, snorkeling gear on, hand in hand, and he slowly led me out into the open blue. I couldn’t have done it without him. He held onto me and periodically checked if I was ok while I put al my focus on breathing steadily and swimming.

We saw some fish.

This wasn’t even my first time snorkeling! Dan and I did it together in Cancun where I was able to find my zen and watch the fishes with him. I wasn’t quite at that place of calm, partly because I didn’t have a life vest on this time so I needed to rely on myself more. At one point we turned around to see Dan was joining us! While both of the boys could stand up where we were - as far from shore as it was - I could not. And I was tired. Dad said he was going to head back after a while and I was relieved because I didn’t think I could stand it out there much longer. I was really struggling. I had to get a koala hold on Dan a few times in order to avoid drowning. But then dad didn’t go to shore. He just went farther out then started frantically gesticulating at us to join him.

He found the turtle.

Well damnit I have to go see the turtle! I can’t have come all the way out here not to see them so I start flailing to get toward him but my body is failing me and I’m drowning. For all intents and purposes. Dad recalls what he saw when he looked to see if we were joining him as hilarious after the fact - I imagine it was. Because it didn’t feel like we were actually getting closer to him. I just felt like I was drowning.

I don’t know how we did it but somehow we got to him and there, materializing out of the murky water before us, not far away from us on the ocean floor, was an enormous green sea turtle, peacefully munching on things buried in the sand, using their giant flippers to gently pull themself along. We floated there for a while, marveling at being able to see such a beautiful creature in their natural habitat, before heading back to safe land. I’m sorry we couldn’t take pictures, but it’s hard to imagine I’ll forget that anytime soon.

So take two of snorkeling was a raging success!

After a well earned nap on the balcony of our condo, Dan, dad, and I went for a drive along the north shore, taking in the landscape, and stopping at Tunnel’s Beach where we got to see a little cave, then did some more overpriced grocery shopping, and came home for dinner.

We had Mai Tais and played a silly game where you put dental mouth spreaders in (dad is blurry because of the uncontrollable laughter that was raking his body) and laughed and drooled a whole lot before turning in. A wildly successful day, I would say. And I can’t wait for tomorrow.

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Lost in Translation EP03

The saga continues: part three in a series in which my sister and I pick our way through all the (mis)translations, humour, and cultural subtext that dropped from the fan-subbed version of TotNT. Thank you so much to everyone who bought us coffee - this one’s for you. ;) 

Before we begin, for anyone just joining us: EP01 / EP02. 

We pick up back where we left off last episode with Yeon dressing Ji Ah’s wound. 

Yeon’s line that’s subbed, “Stop being a crybaby” can be a bit hard to translate. The word he uses is ‘eomsal,’ which literally means, ‘the exaggeration of pain; feigning pain; a great fuss about nothing.’ So he’s essentially saying she’s overreacting. I'm not a fan of the use of the word ‘crybaby’ here though personally.

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” > > > 12 Hours Earlier.

We see Thirsty meet his ignominious end in a toilet (we never got character names for these guys so I’m just going to call them ‘Thirsty’ and ‘Hungry’).

Elsewhere on the island, Rang fishes a curse doll with the man’s picture on it out of the surf. That’s quite the atmospheric shot. Point to the director.

Episode 03 Title Card: The Secret of the Dragon King 

We open the following morning as Ji Ah and the man who found the body (who Ji Ah refers to as ‘Captain’) examine the scene.

Sub: “Being at sea wasn’t enough and he drowned himself to death.” I’m not sure that sentence even makes sense. I would have translated the man’s line as: “Ho~ Let no one say he wasn’t a seaman. He managed to kick the bucket by drowning [even on dry land].” 

Sub: “Talk about it being all for nothing. This is what he gets after throwing himself at his life.” Um, what now? The line is: “Human lives are so futile. And after he clung so viciously to life, too.”

Lol Yeon. “I see someone threw a party.” I like this sub. What he literally says though is: “Oh~ Looks like it was a really special night.” (‘special’ here is in English). 

Sub: “He smells like a stinky fish.” What Yeon literally says is: “Ugh, a smell like rotting fish is coming from this kid!” Yeon refers to the man as ‘yae,’ which literally means ‘this kid,’ but can also be used to refer to inanimate objects. So, either way...pfft

Appropriately, the BGM playing as Pyung Hee casts her curse is ‘Shaman.’

Back over to Yeon and Ji Ah as they investigate the body. The chyron on the screen reads: ‘The first survivor of the Milky Way (Deceased)’ Irony-(probably)-not-intended. 

We get another chyron not long after, over a shot of Pyung Hee’s father’s head being returned to shore that reads: ‘Seo Gi Chang (Died aboard the Milky Way)’

Lol None of this has stopped Yeon from nomming on his banana milk. I had thought the milk made him seem like a little kid, but according to Korean fans, it’s also, apparently, commonly enjoyed by old men. heh

Sub: “Besides, they’re not good looking enough.” This is a mistranslation. Yeon’s line is literally: “And besides, I don’t like the look of their faces.” What he means, though, is the feeling they give off, rather than their actual ‘looks.’ It’s a common expression in Korean. If I was translating instead of explaining, I would probably render this as, “I don’t like the look of them.”

As Ji Ah drags him out, however, Yeon can be heard saying, “Ah~ I judge people by their looks~!” I’m 98% sure this is another LDW ad lib. Basically, LDW made a joke of his previous line, as if to say Yeon cared about the look of them because they weren’t attractive enough, when really his line meant they seemed shady. It’s almost as if he predicted the bad sub...

We get a brief scene featuring the second (and only named) survivor of the Milky Way, Jin Shik. Oh, and his headless ‘visitor.’ Creepy.

The music underscoring Hungry gorging himself on raw meat is making everything worse (or possibly better, if disturbing is your jam)

I’ve said it before, but I would watch an entire series of Yeon and Ji Ah being a supernatural investigative duo.

Pfft Yeon refers to Seo Gi Chang as ‘the head’ (mogaji). I’m not sure if I should call that indelicate or irreverent. It’s a bit of both, really. 

Yeon’s line here is subbed as, “What happened on the boat?” but it should more properly be: “What did you do on the boat?” He’s not just asking after the sequence of events; the line is a clear accusation.

Sub: “We met an unexpected storm that day.” Actually: “Rough wind and waves hit the side of the fishing boat.” (i.e. causing it to capsize) 

I appreciate that Yeon sits back here and allows Ji Ah to take the lead. 

So, as it turns out, the 11th hell is actually a fishing boat (I’m sure the cast of 1N2D will back me up on this).

Fun fact: This sequence was filmed in a green screen pool and then made to look like the middle of the ocean with CG.

As an aside, I love that Ji Ah deduced the whole story on her own and that she uses that knowledge to corner Hungry psychologically. Also, that her strategy proves more effective than Yeon’s threat of violence. It’s not so much a ‘you catch more flies with honey,’ as a ‘brain over brawn’ sort of deal. 

Ji Ah: You were frightened, weren’t you? Twenty-eight days straight on a perilous life boat without water or food. They’re the perfect conditions for a person to go mad, aren’t they? First-degree burns from the hot August sun striking your body mercilessly, the boat pitching about all day; despite not having eaten, you feel as if you’ll throw up. Clenching your teeth and waiting to be rescued only works for a day or two. The more you think about it, the angrier you get. ‘Why, me? Why?!’ Around the fifth day was the crisis point. Since, in that time, not a drop of rain had fallen. Dehydration would have set in first. [...] But it’s odd, isn’t it? For having starved for 28 days, you lost too little body mass. [...] What did you eat?

Meanwhile, Yeon’s contribution to all of this is: “And you couldn’t have used a delivery app in the middle of the open ocean where there’s no wifi signal.” Pfft He has, of course, caught on to her strategy. As usual, though, he decides to take the cheeky route. 

Side note: I find it interesting that, in this universe full of monsters, the first incident Yeon and Ji Ah end up investigating together turns out to be an entirely human horror. 

Yo. Hungry deciding Ji Ah is food is just...ugh. Never trust a cannibal. 

Luckily for Ji Ah, her guard dog fox is on the job. 

Over to Rang, who asks a weeping Pyung Hee what she’ll give him in return for granting her ‘wish’. We don’t get to see her answer him, but it was included in the backstory collection.

It’s unclear to me just how much Rang is involved in ‘granting’ Pyung Hee’s wish. Like, is he the one fueling the curse somehow, or did he just teach her what she needed to know? I’m inclined to believe it’s more the latter. 

We cut to Taluipa at the Afterlife Immigration Office, who’s pissed that someone’s messing with her Death List. There’s a fun mythology-related chestnut in this scene: when Hyeonuiong comes running in, he’s carrying a watering can. Taluipa accuses him of having been watching dramas, but Hyeonuiong insists he was watering the Uiryeongsu. 

The chyron for it reads: ‘The Uiryeongsu. A tree that measures the sins of the dead by the weight of their clothes when they’re hung on it.’ The hanja for ‘Uiryeongsu’ (衣領樹) literally mean ‘clothing-amount-tree,’ so its name is essentially its function. In traditional mythology, it grows on the near bank of the Samdocheon. This is also the same tree that the Uiryeong’geom (geom = sword) mentioned in EP13 is made from.

“You watered a tree for 3 hours?” Pfft Hyeonuiong and watering can, exit stage right. 

Minor detail: I just realized I can actually see from Taluipa’s List in this scene that one of the two fishermen is named Kim Gil Sang. Still not sure which one though, so I’m going to stick to calling them Hungry and Thirsty. 

The Dragon King Scroll

Back over to Ji Ah, who examines a creepy scroll hanging in Jin Shik’s vacant quarters. Once again, the show cuts into its own dramatic tension with a moment of levity as Yeon startles both Ji Ah and me by popping open his bag of snacks with a massive bang. The contrast between Ji Ah, who’s in serious investigator mode, and Yeon, who just continues his one-gumiho snack parade, blasé as can be, adds humour to an otherwise grim situation. 

Yeon’s response of, “Oh. Sorry.” is in English, making it sound, if possible, even less sincere.

On the off chance that anyone was wondering, the snack Yeon claims as his favorite here is 솜짱 (somjjang). According to the Korean fans again, this is also a food commonly enjoyed by elderly people.

Subs: “Do you know how many people in Joseon died during the 50 years of war? 3.5 million. I’ve seen more deaths than all the funeral companies in this country.” This is another case of diagonal translation. Yeon’s line is more properly: 

Yeon: Between the Imjin War and the Manchu War, do you know how much of the population of Joseon-era Korea was lost in just 50 years? 3,500,000. I’m a guy who’s seen more funerals than all the funerary companies in Korea put together.  

[Note: Yeon is talking about The Japanese Invasions a.k.a The Imjin War (1592-1598) and The Qing Invasion of Joseon a.k.a. The Manchu War (1636)]

As a linguistic aside, Yeon refers to himself here as a ‘nom’ (rhymes with ‘home’). If you read the breakdown of EP02, you’ll recall that ‘nom’ can mean anything from ‘guy’ to ‘bastard.’ It’s not that Yeon means to call himself a bastard, though. It’s only that the typical alternative here (i.e. ‘person’) carries the implication of 'human.’ Since Yeon is, of course, not human, he opts for ‘nom’ instead. The word gets a lot of mileage in this show in relation to all the supernaturals for that reason. 

Lol This exchange about the Dragon King was great. Point to the writer. I would translate it as: 

Yeon: You’re right, but it looks nothing like him. 

Ji Ah: You’ve...seen him? 

Yeon: Back when I was a mountain god. Well, in today’s terms you’d say we attended a leadership conference together. They over-glamorized him. He’s not this good looking.

Ji Ah’s reaction is perfect too. Her, ‘I don’t even know where to begin with that statement so I’m just going to move on’ look came across loud and clear. 

Yeon’s line as he leans over Ji Ah’s shoulder is subbed: “This is just like ‘Where’s Wally?’” In Korea, the game is called ‘find the hidden picture’ (‘sumun keurim chatgi’). So the line is actually: “What is this, ‘find the hidden picture’ or something?” I’d say there’s a 50/50 chance this line was another ad lib by Lee Dong Wook.

On an entirely different cultural note, ‘Where’s Wally?’ is know as ‘Where’s Waldo?’ in North America and exactly nowhere else. Don’t ask... 

This scene features the first mention we get of Imoogi. Imoogi are among the most famous Korean mythical creatures. In most tellings, they are essentially proto-dragons, though occasionally they can be baby dragons. For example, one imoogi tale claims its imoogi was the son of the Dragon King (the same one Yeon attended a ‘leadership conference’ with). Most of the lore agrees that if an imoogi stays submerged in deep water for a thousand years, it earns the chance to become a dragon, though the caveats vary widely, and many imoogi fail. Finally, while the imoogi in TotNT is evil, imoogi aren’t categorically so; some are good, some aren’t.

Rang and the Mudang

Fun fact: Kim Beom explained in his Instagram LIVE that he chose to wear a red suit partially because the color gave off the feeling of a villain, but also because it contrasted well with the green of the forest. He also named this as his favorite Lee Rang outfit.

For anyone keeping track, Rang speaks to the mudang in banmal. She, in return, addresses him as ‘Lee Rang-nim’ and speaks very respectfully.

Okay, there are a couple of things to unpack in Rang’s following exchange with the mudang: 

Mudang: The Corrupt God, King of the Wicked. He is Lee Ryong-nim.

Rang: [Laughs] What’s with that? Ugh, I seriously just cringed! If you slap a fancy title* from the next world in front of its name, does a snake become a dragon?

First, the mudang’s line here is said in an archaic cant. Second, ‘Lee Ryong’ (properly pronounced, ‘i-ryong,’ since there’s actually no ‘L’ in ‘Lee’), is another name for imoogi.

Finally, when Rang says ‘a fancy title from the next world,’ he’s referring to a posthumous name/title. Nearly every kingdom to have occupied the Korean peninsula has used posthumous titles (시호), most often for deceased royalty. By giving one to Imoogi, the mudang is venerating him. Rang mocks this, seizing on Imoogi’s failure to become a dragon. (Let no one say he and Yeon aren’t brothers).

The subs have Rang referring to Yeon as just ‘Yeon,’ but he actually calls him ‘Lee Yeon.’ That’s a very impersonal way to refer to one’s older brother, which is, of course, intentional on Rang’s part. It serves as another linguistic cue to the audience as to how Rang regards Yeon at this point. 

A note on the evening primrose: tvN released a short blurb about it, since, as far as I can tell, the mythology was invented for the show. It reads: 

Evening primrose that has grown while feeding on the blood and flesh of corpses is the same as poison to gumiho; if they so much as touch its powder, their bodies catch flame.

While the subs consistently just say ‘evening primrose,’ this should more properly be ‘burial ground evening primrose,’ which is how the various characters refer to it. 

Fun fact: ‘Evening primrose’ in Korean is ‘dalmaji-kkot’ (달맞이꽃), which means ‘flowers that welcome the moon’. 

Sub: “Half-brothers, to be exact.” The term Rang uses in Korean is quite literally, ‘brothers from different stomachs,’ so it refers specifically to half brothers who share a father but who have different mothers. I mention it only because Korean viewers will have been given slightly more information about their familial relationship here than was provided in the subs. 

Back over to our leads, as Yeon urges Ji Ah to leave the island post-haste. His line is subbed: “I’m saying you may die if you stay here.” That’s a perfectly fine translation. For anyone curious, though, his line is quite literally: “I’m saying if you stay here, [the conditions are] perfect for dying.” 

Sub: “That’s none of your business.” Yeon’s line is more properly: “That’s not for you to know.”

Ji Ah’s response to this is very literally: “I have no intention to go home for a reason I don’t know. So Lee Yeon should find the person Lee Yeon came here to find. I have to know why my parents came to this island.” This is the first time Ji Ah uses Yeon’s full name as a second person pronoun (so basically to mean ‘you’) when speaking to him. It’s hard to make generalizations about any form of address that don’t have multiple exceptions, but in this case, using his name is a more neutral, and somewhat more familiar, alternative to some of the other pronouns she’s been using when speaking to him. To my sense, it softens her rejection of his advice a little bit.

Back to Rang. His line is a bit awkward to translate, but essentially what he says is, ‘Calling my brother a ‘mountain god’ is an overstatement/ putting it nicely.’ I might approximate this as, ‘Sure, my brother was called a mountain god.’ This is the only time in the entire drama that Rang refers to Yeon as ‘uri hyung,’ and it kills me a bit that it’s not out of fondness, but rather derision. ㅠㅠ

Similarly, when Rang says, “I’m a fox, after all. I have to repay eunhye properly,” he is, of course, using eunhye sarcastically.

The subtitle here once again says ‘the underworld,’ but Rang’s line is actually: “I’m going to go to hell, without fail. Together with Lee Yeon.” The subs really need to do a better job of distinguishing between hell and the afterlife. 

We see Ji Ah instruct Jae Hwan over the phone as to what to search for in the library records. She’s split off from Yeon since we last saw them. 

Elsewhere on the island, Yeon also makes a call, only his is to Halmeom (Taluipa) to ask about Imoogi. When this episode first aired, I thought it was odd that Yeon was using ‘Imoogi’ as if it were a name, since this would be like referring to Yeon as ‘Gumiho.’ He later taunts Terry-Imoogi about just that though (i.e. not even having a proper name), so obviously it was an intentional decision on the writer’s part. 

Sub: “If by chance Ah Eum was born again into this world, I can’t let that thing coexist with her.” This sub went a bit sideways. The ‘by chance’ has been mis-attributed. The line is properly: “There’s no way I could possibly (i.e. by any chance/under no circumstances can I) let such a thing exist in a world in which Ah Eum has been reborn.” Yeon is already sure that Ah Eum has been reborn at this point. He’s saying that because she’s been reborn, he can’t allow Imoogi to coexist with her under any circumstances.

Rang vs Ji Ah

Ji Ah returns to Pyung Hee’s to find ‘Pyung Hee’ reading Moby Dick. This is an ironic enough choice of literature to clue her in to the fact that this isn’t really Pyung Hee. Smart cookie. 

On a character note, I loved that Ji Ah’s knowledge of, and love for, world literature was threaded believably throughout the drama in a way in which it feels natural that she caught on to Rang’s hint here. Point to the writer. 

Again, for anyone keeping track, Ji Ah and Rang speak to each other in banmal, as has been the case since Rang revealed himself at Ji Ah’s house in EP01. Not because they’re close, obviously, but because they have zero respect for one another. It’s a bit of a power play on Ji Ah’s part, too, since she’s (hundreds of years) younger. 

Over to Yeon, who barges into the local market owner’s personal quarters to interrogate him. His line when he catches sight of the scroll on the wall is subbed: “Look at this.” This should more properly be: “Check these people out. There’s one here too.” The word he uses that I translated as ‘these people’ is ‘i-geot-dul,’ which is very literally ‘these things,’ so I sort of understand the confusion in the subs. He means the islanders though, not the scrolls. In contrast, ‘there’s one here too’ does actually refer to the scroll.

The knife Yeon throws hits directly over the slit pupil of the scroll dragon’s eye. Nice aim.

Back to Ji Ah and Rang. When Ji Ah accuses Rang of orchestrating the deaths of the Milk Way survivors, ‘to distract us,’ what she says quite literally is ‘to cover our eyes and ears.’

When Rang applauds Ji Ah’s deductive abilities, his line is subbed, “Awesome.” This should more properly be, “Outstanding,” or, “Exceptional.” I honestly believe he’s being sincere in his praise. Being Rang, though, he’s probably just delighted this makes her more challenging to toy with.

Having completed his interrogation, Yeon’s eyes change as he erases the man’s memory of the event. I suspect the reason Yeon is so cavalier about revealing he’s a gumiho is because he can basically ‘undo’ it whenever he wants using this power.

Ji Ah’s quiet, “I decline” is so satisfying. Also the way Rang pulls back in surprise haha I guess he’s not used to being turned down. 

Rang’s exchange with Ji Ah is subbed as: “Loosen up. Why be so stiff when it’s just good old me?” / “Let me give you some advice since that’s how you feel. Don’t gamble with another’s tragedy just for kicks. There’s a word for people like you, you know. A colossal jerk.” This is difficult to translate, and I think the subs have done a pretty good job, but a closer translation would be:

Rang: Augh— So uptight! Are you going to keep acting this uptight, just between us* (literally, ‘between you and me’)? 

Ji Ah: Between you and me, then, I’ll give you just one word of advice: Don’t carelessly role the dice atop others’ misfortune. People call jerks like you ‘sleazy bastards.’ 

[*Note: Rang’s phrasing implies that they’re somehow close/on good terms, but he’s being sarcastic, of course.]

First off, the word Rang uses for ‘uptight’ (빡빡하다) means ‘stiff; uptight; rigid; inflexible; strict.’ By this, he’s referring to how she never lets her guard down. I don’t know that any of those words properly conveys that, though. 

Second, while I translated Ji Ah’s line about the dice very literally here (in keeping with the spirit of this post), I actually like how the subs handled it from a translation/subtitling standpoint. 

Finally, the subs have Ji Ah calling Rang ‘a colossal jerk,’ but the term she actually uses (‘yang’achi saekki’) is a much stronger expletive. ‘Yang’achi’ is a term for a thug, gangster, or hoodlum. ‘Saekki’ literally means ‘child of.’ In practical use, though, it’s close to ‘bastard.’ (I really didn’t think I’d be explaining the finer points of Korean expletives when I started this series, but here we are). I approximated this as ‘sleazy bastard’ above. 

Pfft Rang being genuinely offended at Ji Ah’s language. Jo Bo Ah talked a bit about what she thought of all the explicit language Ji Ah uses towards Rang in her wrap interview. 

Subs: “When he finds what he wants, you’ll be begging for mercy.” No idea where they got 'begging for mercy.’ What Rang actually says is, “When he  finds what he wants, you’ll see hell.” Unlike in the subtitle, Rang’s warning actually has substance to it, since he’s referring to the fact that, once Yeon identifies Ji Ah as Ah Eum’s reincarnation, their fate with Imoogi will repeat itself. 

By the time Yeon rushes back to Pyung Hee’s, Rang is long gone. His line subbed as: “What did he say?” is, quite literally, “Lee Rang, that nom, what’d he say?” This use of ‘nom’ manages to come off as fairly mild. (He may be a jerk, but he’s Yeon’s jerk). 

Ji Ah’s response has undergone cultural translation to become: “Even when I order pizza, I never go for half-and-half. I always choose just one.” Honestly, though, I don’t know that it was necessary. What she actually says is: “Even when I order chicken, I don’t go for half-seasoned, half-fried; I’m the type to just pick one.”

This scene was originally longer but part of it got deleted. They released the clip, though, so I’ll translate the full exchange here:

Ji Ah: I'm saying I turned him down, your younger brother. Since I bet on this fox.  

Yeon: Let no one say you aren’t a learned (wise) woman. Is that all?  

Rang (voiceover): Don't trust Lee Yeon too much.  

Ji Ah: That's all. But...you said the two of you are brothers.

Yeon: Yeah. We’re brothers. 

Ji Ah: Why are you so hellbent on destroying each other? 

Yeon: It seems like you don’t know since you’re an only child, but, as a rule, the relationship between siblings is a lot like noir, just without the guns.

Ji Ah: There you go, deflecting the question again. Is that a secret, too? 

Yeon: If you ever happen to run into that guy again just the two of you, no matter what, run fast. That kid* despises humans. Especially humans that look like you. 

Ji Ah: Why do you keep taking cracks at people's faces?

Yeon: ...I'm hungry.  

Ji Ah: Why don’t you take the opportunity to pack up and leave while you still can? Your younger brother...it seems he’s preparing some sort of special event. 

Yeon: That’s what I’m waiting for.

*Note: The word Yeon uses that I translated as ‘kid’ is ‘jashik.’ This is another word that, depending on how it’s used, can either be fond or rude. ‘Jashik’ literally means ‘[one’s] child,’ but it’s also commonly used in the sense of ‘punk.’ It’s a bit softer than nom. You wouldn’t use it to refer to yourself, though. 

Ji Ah’s “Why do you keep taking cracks at people’s faces?” (meaning he’s insulting/taking issue with how she looks), is referencing their exchange the previous night when he told her not to smile because she was ugly.

We cut briefly to Shin Joo eating at the Snail Bride as he sizes up Yoo Ri from a distance. Come to think of it, we never got this BGM for the Snail Bride, either...

Ramen Heart-to-Heart

Lee Yeon’s one-gumiho meokbang continues. I feel like Yeon has been nomming on something in nearly every scene this episode. 

The BGM while Yeon and Ji Ah eat is a remix of Yeon’s theme, ‘The Fox’s Wedding Day.’

Sub: “Just because these ladies wear baggy pants in floral prints doesn’t mean they have kind hearts. Get digging, and you’ll find all sorts of dirty secrets.” Yeon’s line is more literally: 

Yeon: Living is all the same [everywhere]~ Just because grannies in the countryside wear flower-patterned pants doesn’t mean that even their insides are flower-patterned. If you start digging, venomous and insidious years come pouring out. 

Ji Ah’s response then plays off of Yeon’s turn of phrase: “Is that the case for you too? I just wondered, ‘With what pattern did you live all those long years?’” (referring to the ‘pattern’ of his heart).

On a minor cultural note: the word Yeon uses is ‘mombbae pants’ (몸빼바지), which are a fashion(?) staple in the countryside. You’ll know what I mean if you run the hangeul through a google image search. That’s where the subs got ‘baggy’ from even though Yeon doesn’t explicitly say it. 

Sub: “Why have you been searching for your parents all this time?” Yeon’s line is more properly: “Then what about you? What has made you wait for your parents for such a long time?” 

Sub: “I’m the same. I’m waiting for the one I miss.” I would have translated this as: “I’m waiting for someone I miss,” which is literally what he says. 

Sub: “Why did you part ways when you still miss her this much?” This is a bit hard to translate into natural-sounding English. The word Ji Ah uses is ‘mi’ryeon,’ which means ‘lingering attachment.’ So her line is quite literally: “Your face is so full of lingering attachment, how did you come to part ways/break up?”

Sub: “The first being I loved was a human girl who ended up dying. It’s why I’m still hung up on her. Happy now?” Hmm... I would translate Yeon’s line as:

Yeon: My damn* first love was a human of all things, but she died, so I’m foolishly unable to let go of my lingering attachment. Happy now? 

[*Note: Yeon is cursing is the phenomenon of first love itself, not Ah Eum.]

His statement is witty, because the word he uses for ‘foolish’ is also pronounced ‘mi’ryeon.’ In this case, though, 'mi’ryeon’ means, ‘foolhardy and dense enough to be stubborn to a preposterous degree.’ Which is probably a fair assessment given he’s been waiting 600 years. The sub for this line made it sound like he’s saying, ‘I’m hung up on her because she’s a human girl who died,’ which would just be weird. 

Shin Joo Meets Yoo Ri

Okay, minor detail, but what exactly was Yoo Ri trying to accomplish here before Shin Joo stopped her from entering an off-limits area of the Snail Bride?

The BGM here is called ‘Skip a Beat’ (‘Kanju Jump’). I found the track title slightly surprising since it’s actually taken from an ad lib made by Kim Yong Ji (Yoo Ri) in a later episode. 

For anyone keeping track, Shin Joo and Yoo Ri are speaking in a mix of banmal and jondaetmal in this scene.

We next see Shin Joo on the phone with Yeon, whining about the whole ordeal and asking an unsympathetic Yeon to come back and retrieve his necklace for him.

Yeon’s line that’s subbed as, “Deadly?” could mean more than one thing. The line is literally, “What? The thief was deadly?” The word for ‘deadly,’ though, could equally mean that she was a knockout (i.e. gorgeous). It’s probably a bit of both.

Subs: “There’s nothing more pathetic than being blinded by a woman’s beauty...” / “But you also ruined your life by falling for beautiful woman.”  For the record, neither of them actually uses the word ‘beauty/beautiful’ here. I would translate this exchange as: 

Yeon: You... The most pathetic thing in the world, is being blinded by a woman, and... 

Shin Joo: But being blinded by a woman and wrecking your life is something Lee Yeon-nim did too, isn’t it? 

Yeon: What, you punk?!

Lol Yeon’s “What, you punk?!” is a familiar refrain whenever Shin Joo unwittingly(?) insults Yeon. The word is ‘imma’ (임마) or sometimes ‘inma’ (인마). Yeon consistently uses the former.

‘Bad Fate’

Subs: “Why is that branch broken? It must’ve hurt.” Yeon is actually personifying the tree here, which makes sense seeing as he can communicate with it. So his line is more literally: “Now why has this kid gone and made a fuss breaking [his] branch? It must’ve hurt.” Which is cute.

I actually really appreciated this short scene of Yeon healing the tree. Yeon may no longer be the master of Baekdudaegan, but this scene showed that it’s still very much a part of who he is; not just his powers, but the care he has for the forest. 

Fun (?) fact: It turns out this simple scene was actually a huge pain to film. 

Subs: “I hope you grow well.” Actually: “Eat well and grow well.” I realize that sounds awkward in English, but the line is a directive. He’s once again speaking to the tree. 

Sub: “The wind is blowing from the northwest. Something is coming.” I would have translated this as: “A northwest wind blows... Something is coming.” That’s partly a tonal choice, but it’s also a more literal reflection of the original Korean. 

We finally catch back up to the end of EP02, as Jae Hwan calls Ji Ah from the library to tell her what he’s found. This time, we see her connect the first dead body in 1954 to what the forest spirit told them more explicitly. 

The dates of the four incidents are: August 13, 1954; August 25, 1961; September 6, 1979; and September 7, 1987. Ji Ah quickly deduces that these all work out to be the same date on the lunar calendar: July 15th. In 2020, that works out to be Wednesday, September 2nd. If you’ll recall, the wedding at the start of EP01 was held on August 29, so it’s only been 3 days since Yeon and Ji Ah crossed paths at the wedding hall. 

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” What is it with Imoogi and choking Yeon?

Subs: “You should’ve let me go.”  More precisely: “I know, right? You should have let me go.”

Yeon’s final “What are you?” should probably have been subbed as: “I’m asking what you are!” since both his tone and phrasing have grown more insistent. 

Subs: Our ill-fated relationship would’ve ended if you hadn’t stopped the boat from crossing the Samdo River. More literally:

Jimoogi: Our ak’yeon should have ended. That is, if only you hadn’t stopped the boat from crossing the Samdocheon. 

The word the subs translated as ‘our ill-fated relationship’ is ‘ak’yeon’ (悪縁), which literally means ‘bad fate.’ In contrast to the broader, ‘destiny’ sort of fate (‘un’myeong’) however, ‘yeon’ (縁) is inherently relational. It refers specifically to the fate between two people (or even between a person and a place). ‘Ak’ (悪) means ‘evil.’ So 'ill-fated’ is a bit misleading as a translation since the word actually refers to the relationship between Yeon and Imoogi (i.e. mortal enemies), rather than the fact that Yeon and Ah Eum’s story ended tragically (as in, ‘an ill-fated love’). 

WAIT. Subs: “No. That woman is born with a face that only I can recognize. And I don’t see it in you.” What?? That doesn’t even make sense. Yeon’s line is: 

Yeon: No. That woman is born carrying a sign that only I can recognize. You don’t have it. 

Obviously, Yeon is referring to the fox bead, and I’m fairly sure that was apparent since the line was intercut with the scene in which he imparts the bead to Ah Eum, but that seems like a pretty critical line to fudge up. 

Jimoogi: “You really don’t know anything, do you, Lee Yeon?” It’s weird to me that they have Imoogi addressing Yeon as just ‘Yeon’ in the subs. That makes it seem like they’re friends or something...

Subs: “The scar is gone.” Actually: “The wound disappeared.” 

Deadball

Subs: “We hate each other too much to play catch. I actually meant to kill you.” Wait, WHAT?! Yeon’s line is: 

Yeon: Our relationship is too makjang for that. That was meant to be a deadball, actually. 

Makjang, for the uninitiated, is a slang word taken from the phrase ‘the final scene’ (‘majimak jangmyeon’) that has come to refer to an entire genre, as well as particular dramatic elements or conventions of Korean storytelling. Dramabeans explain the term here. When Yeon says his relationship with Rang is ‘makjang,’ he’s essentially saying it’s overly fraught, not that he hates his brother. 

He also doesn’t say he meant to kill Rang. ‘Deadball’ is a Korean baseball term for a pitch that hits a player (typically causing the game to be paused). So Yeon’s just saying he meant for the ‘ball’ to hit Rang, rather than for Rang to catch it. 

On a personal note, it really bothers me when the subs spread all over the internet and they’re wrong like this. I don’t mind slight changes in phrasing or wording, but when they grossly misrepresent the characters like this it can be a bit upsetting. It’s no wonder I sometimes feel like I watched a completely different drama. ㅠㅠ

Yeon’s cheeky smile™ XD

The BGM in this scene is actually ‘The Forest of the Agwi.’

Subs: “Run away.” Yeon’s line is quite literally: ‘Get away from here,’ or even, ‘put distance between here and you.’ I mention it because I really appreciated that, despite all the danger she confronts, Yeon never once tells Ji Ah to ‘run away’ (‘domang ga’). His second ‘run away’ in the subs is also just him telling her to hurry up (literally ‘go quickly’).

The following banter between the brothers is something I mentioned in an ask a while back because all the humour had been lost in translation. To recap, though, one recurring joke the show uses plays off the word for ‘bastard/son of a bitch,’ which translates literally as ‘child of a dog’ (kae-saekki). As you might imagine, this gets a lot of mileage in relation to Rang, our resident ‘baby fox’ (agi yeou) a.k.a. ‘child of a fox’ (yeou-saekki):

Rang: This is domestic violence, you know?

Yeon: (Nodding) They say you’re supposed to raise wild children* with a firm hand (literally: hit them as you raise them), but I couldn’t do that, so I ended up raising a fox child into a dog child (son of a bitch), didn’t I?

Rang: And who was the jerk who kicked that child (saekki) to the curb? You treat me like a stray dog any chance you get. 

Yeon: My little brother, I’ll have to gift you a muzzle this Christmas. 

Rang’s line was subbed: “You keep blaming it on me, when you were the one who turned me into an orphan.” which I find fairly problematic since that makes it sound like Yeon killed Rang’s parents. It’s also just plain wrong; to the extent that I’m not even sure what went wrong in the translation process. 

The word Yeon uses here for ‘wild children’ is ‘horo jashik’ (호로자식), which many Koreans understand to mean something like a barbarian child, but the true origin, as it turns out, is a parentless child. It’s also a term used predominantly by elderly people heh

Finally, because the dog jokes dropped out ‘muzzle’ became ‘mouth guard’ in the subs, which is both less funny and less sensical. The two are also conceptually opposed, since ‘muzzle’ implies that Yeon means to protect the world from Rang whereas ‘mouth guard’ is more about protecting Rang.

As Ji Ah continues to put distance between herself and the brothers, she happens upon the mudang’s house, which she immediately clocks as such from the obangi. 

I like that Ji Ah doesn’t immediately call the mudang out for lying, but instead continues to question her knowing she’s lying. Sometimes the lies people tell can be as telling as the truth. 

When Ji Ah questions her, the mudang tells her the fishing ritual is held during the ‘Ghost Festival’. This is a Buddhist festival similar to All Souls Day. In Korean it’s called ‘Baek Joong Nal’ (literally ‘hundred-gather-day’) meaning ‘the day when all the spirits gather.’ It falls on the full moon of the seventh lunar month (so July 15th of the lunar calendar), which is, of course, the date Ji Ah identified as the day when the murders were taking place. That’s why we get the zoom in and the flash to the newspaper dates: Ji Ah has put everything together. 

Chyron: “Obangi (五方旗) A five-colored flag symbolizing ‘life, death, illness, sacrifice, and ancestors’”. This is the quick quotes version. Obangi have their roots in the Chinese philosophy of Wuxing, but for more on that, I’ll refer you to Wikipedia. In Korea, the colors of the obangi (red, blue, white, black, and yellow) are known as the five orientation colors, and are closely tied to both shamanism and fortune telling. You’ll notice these same colors flying outside the fortune teller’s in EP06.

I also appreciated that Ji Ah didn’t just foolishly drink the tea here. She was properly on her guard. It’s only that she mis-identified the source of danger.

Back over to our fox brothers. Rang’s line is subbed: “That was plenty of time.” This is more properly: “I think I’ve bought more than enough time by now.” So he’s actually quite overt in telling Yeon exactly what he'd been up to.  

Subs: “Don’t you know why she ended up on this island?” More closely: “Do you still not get it? Why that woman ended up coming to this island of all places?” 

We see the mudang encircle the creepy well with burial ground evening primrose to ward against Yeon, who is currently searching the island for Ji Ah to no avail. 

Subs: “You tricked your mom while you were in her womb.” This is a bit difficult to translate. The word the mudang uses that was translated as ‘tricked’ is ‘ggweda,’ which means to ‘lure’ or ‘entice.’ So what she means is that the part of Imoogi that was reincarnated with Ji Ah ‘lured’ her mother to the island by sending her recurring dreams. 

Gumiho

Lol Yeon: “I am the original mountain spirit, the master of the mountains and streams. Lift this darkness and lead me to her!” This is more literally:

Yeon: I am the original mountain god, the master of your mountains and streams.* Part this darkness and lead me to that woman!

[*Note: ‘Mountains and streams’ here can also be taken to mean ‘nature’ at large.]

Lol The line is met with silence and the soft hoot of a lone owl. That’s basically the director’s version of *crickets* isn’t it?

This line is another rare case in which Yeon speaks archaically, and it serves to make the command sound more formal and potentially magical. It’s also worth noting that he’s addressing the forest directly as a whole here (thus the ‘your’). 

Fun fact: When Lee Dong Wook did his TotNT VLIVE, his promotional team made him perform this line again live just to mess with him haha

The BGM here as Yeon heads off through the forest led by his (supernatural?) fireflies is ‘Opening Title: The Legend of the Fox.’ It sounds vaguely Harry Potter-ish to me (not complaining). 

For the record, Ji Ah is now speaking to the mudang in banmal out of disdain. 

Sub: “Be a sacrifice. You are a very special child.” Pfft ‘Be a sacrifice’ sounds oddly funny to me. Her line is: “Become a sacrifice. I’m told you’re a very special child.” So the implication is that this information came from someone/something else. 

Does anyone know what BGM this is as Yeon sprints though the forest? I think it might be another unreleased track, but I’m not positive...

Yeon’s “Halt!” is once again in olden speech. It indicates linguistically that he's in Gumiho mode.  

Out of curiosity, is it not odd for people watching with subs when Ji Ah’s only utterance is ‘Lee Yeon’ but the subs just say ‘Yeon’? 

Subs: “This has nothing to do with the old master of the mountain. Why don’t you keep walking?” I would have translated this as: “It is a matter unrelated to the former master of the mountain. Beg, go along your way.” She’s once again using olden-speech in her second sentence.

Lol Sub: “Says the living corpse.” I like this sub. Yeon’s line is quite literally: “With the ‘juje’ of a living corpse...” ‘Juje’ is essentially your station or lot in life, and it’s used almost exclusively derogatorily. 

Sub: “Who was it that provided you with longevity you don’t deserve?” More closely: “Who was it? The one who gave you a lifespan so much longer than you deserve?”

Yeon: “I asked you whom you serve!” (literally ‘what’ you serve). Yeon once again drops into an archaic cant for this line. It serves to underline his full age and gives his demand an extra air of authority. 

Yeon’s TAILS. I can’t believe this was the last we saw of them. ㅠㅠ Personally, I interpreted the firey tails as being a sort of ‘shadow’/ projection of his actual tails, which I assumed were actually more physically there (since he talks about shampooing them in the teaser interview). My sister thinks differently, though. Guess we’ll never know...

The BGM for this sequence is naturally ‘Gumiho.’ If you read our EP01 breakdown, you’ll know I was fully expecting this to be Yeon’s theme. But no, it’s the whimsical 'The Fox’s Wedding Day’ instead haha

Okay, Yeon just casually smiting the mudang is pretty badass. Seeing as he can command lightning, I’m pretty sure he was joking when he told Ji Ah, ‘even gumiho are afraid of electricity.’ 

If by chance you wondered what was going though Yeon’s mind when he smote the mudang, it’s featured in the EP03 subtitle poster.

I appreciated that Yeon just accepts Ji Ah at her word here when she tells him all she needs from him is one arm for support. I feel like in most dramas the male lead would have just forcefully swept the heroine off her feet amidst her protests, which I always find more problematic than romantic.

For that matter, when it became clear that Ji Ah really did need help, I appreciated that she didn’t act shy or coy and just accepted being carried without making a big deal of it. 

Pfft The way Ji Ah’s eyes flash when Yeon tells her the mudang was just a human being says it all. 

Yeon: “So you say... Excuse me, but you nearly died just now, you know?” This line is once again cheekily in jondaetmal.

*Ominous close up of the well*

Thank You

We catch up with Shin Joo at the supermarket as he talks to Yeon over the phone. 

Shin Joo’s ‘PD-nim’ has once again become, ‘the director lady’ in the subs. *Sigh*

Subs: “Your love story is more than just famous among us.” Actually: “Just how famous is Lee Yeon-nim’s love story in our world? It’s obvious your younger brother* must have been playing tricks!” 

Shin Joo refers to Rang here as ‘donsaeng-bun’ (younger sibling + polite word for person) for the same reason he calls Rang, ‘Lee Rang-nim.’ It’s an extension of his regard for Yeon, rather than for Rang himself.

Lol Shin Joo hanging up on Yeon. His love for supermarkets and fried chicken are actually in his character profile. Apparently, they’re what convinced him living as a human was worth the existential crisis that came with it. 

Sub: “I’m too much of a human to easily fall asleep after such an event. Join me.” More literally: “I’m human, so on a day like today I can’t sleep sober. You* have a glass, too.”

The word Ji Ah uses for ‘you’ here is ‘ja’ne’ (자네), which is a polite term... except it’s only used to refer to people younger than you. So’s she’s talking down to him politely haha This is what prompts Yeon’s line that follows it:

Sub: “I never said anything since it could make seem old-fashioned, but you’re too informal with me when you don’t even know my age.”

 Yeon: I kept holding it in thinking you’d call me an old fart, but you’re [using] banmal really blatantly. Just how old do you think I am?”

Yeon’s ‘Just how old do you think I am?’ is rhetorical. It’s not that Ji Ah is necessarily unaware of his true age, but rather that she acts as if she is. 

Sub: “Those over 60 are universally considered as grandpas.” Actually: “You know everyone over 60 can be called a grandpa, right?”

Pfft Sub: “Be as informal as you like.” What Yeon literally says is, “Please lower your speech,” but he uses very respectful language to say it. I’m not sure if he’s being sarcastic, or if he just hates the thought of being considered a grandpa that much haha It’s probably a bit of both.

Aww Ji Ah promising to protect Yeon. I luff her. 

Ji Ah: "Do I perhaps have something you’re looking for?” I love that she doesn’t miss a thing.

Lol Yeon: “Who am I, Jesus? Just drink what you have.” 

The Vanishing

Subs: “Don’t ever resort to cursing people again. Karma can sting.” Quite literally: “You were lucky you kept your life, but don’t do such a thing* as cursing others ever again. They return, you know. Back on the one who casts them.” 

*Yeon uses the disparagement marker ‘ddaui’ (따위) to refer to the act of cursing someone here. You may recall it from our EP01 breakdown. 

Ji Ah chooses this moment to come running in to announce that the island has turned into a ghost town over night, which is enough to make even Yeon pause, perplexed.  

I love the way Yeon and Ji Ah exchange looks here on the dock. They don’ t know what’s up yet, but they intend to find out. 

‘Blue Moon’~~~ This worked great scored over the drone-camera pan out. I may be slightly biased, though.  

And that concludes Episode 3. Once again, thank you to everyone who commented or left feedback on the last episode! Never hesitate to send me your thoughts, even if they’re just to say what you found funny or surprising. It helps me to know what’s of interest for one thing, but I also just enjoy chatting about the show. ;)

A brief note on pronunciation/notation: for words like ‘sa’ingeom’ and ‘mi’ryeon,’ the apostrophe is there just as a pronunciation guide. So in the case of the former, to indicate that it’s pronounced ‘sah-in’ and not ‘sine’ or ‘sane.’ Similarly, for the latter, the apostrophe is just to indicate that this should be pronounced ‘mi-ryeon’ and not ‘mir-yeon.’ I could have just as easily done this with ‘Hyeon’ui’ong’ except that’s a lot of apostrophes and I set an earlier precedent of not. It’s not an aspiration or anything fancy. Hopefully that makes sense. 

Once again, I’d like to credit my sister for being the main researcher and fact-checker for these, in addition to weighing in on all the translations. I don’t always take her advice, but I do always appreciate it haha. 

Thank you also to everyone who bought us coffee! Your support is truly felt and appreciated ♡ As usual, this took an ungodly amount of time, so every coffee helps haha. For anyone just joining us (or not), if you’d like to see more of these, please consider buying us a coffee. If you follow the link, you can buy a $2 cup of virtual coffee. This helps me to gauge how much interest there is, and also how much value people place on these. If you cared enough to read all the way to the end, please at least consider it. Once I’ve established there’s enough interest, I’ll proceed with Episode 4. ;)

#tale of the nine tailed #totnt #lost in translation #구미호뎐 #kdrama #korean language #happy new year!

[littlemessyjessi]

“Little Wife”: Part 2: Bjorn Ironside: Vikings Imagine

Bjorn Ironside Imagine Bjorn Ironside x Reader: Plus Size Reader, PS Reader , Non Viking Reader

Freezing cold sea spray hit me right in the face as I braced myself against the side of the ship.

Much to Bjorn's annoyance...seeing as he had told me to come away from it numerous times.

I ignored him...of course.

"You'll catch death before we arrive home." he said coming up behind me and wrapping another fur around me. "I wasn't planning on bringing a dead wife back, you little demon."

Some of the men chuckled at his exasperation.

They quickly labeled me as the thorn in their leader's side...much to their enjoyment and his displeasure.

Bjorn sighed as he stood behind me.

His firm chest pressed into the soft curves of my back.

I tolerated the furs and his bulky arms wrapping around me .... because it was actually cold...but I had never been so fascinated in my life.

I'd never left my village before and all I ever saw of the sea was from the shore.

This was a different and entirely mindblowing experience.

"You're mother seemed pleased that you're marrying into royalty." he commented and I whipped around to glare up at him.

"You just had to go and ruin my moment of happiness, didn't you?" I accused him with a withering look.

A few of his men chuckled and the smirk that coated his face made me want to attack him.  

He was substantially bigger than me though and I was vastly outnumbered.

"You'll be a princess." one of them commented...though I felt it was more of a tease.

"Who said I wanted to be a princess?" I grumbled and savagely clutched the furs around me as I angrily stared out at the choppy waters.

"Don't all little girls want to be princesses at some point?" the same man asked teasingly.

I glared at him venomously, "No. Do all little Viking boys want to be filthy heathens?"

The men roared in laughter.

I shrugged as I turned back to the sea, "I'd rather be a heathen than a princess."

The men cheered at me and I laughed lightly.

"I thought I'd managed to marry a filthy heathen but turns out all I got is a useless prince. What rotten luck." I said teasing Bjorn who honestly took it in good stride.

He took my teasing fairly well....even if I was a hateful little badger at times.

"Well, this useless prince has no intentions of laying with a frozen corpse so.... good night lads." he said and with that he unceremoniously swung me over his shoulder and headed towards the back of the boat.

He placed me on my feet before settling down and pulling me down into him and basically hiding me completely with the furs.

"If you'll just stay there you'll be warm." he said.

"But I can't see." I whined. "And that was the whole point of coming along.  I want to see."

He blew out an irritated breath at me.

"Alright, on your left there is water and ice.   And on your right, more water and ice.  Behind you, oh look more water and ice and up ahead.... wait a moment- oh no- more water and ice.  You're not going to see anything for a while so just still before you fall in the water."

I was beyond irritated with this attitude he had.  

Who the hell did he think he was telling me what to do and honestly did he expect me to listen to him?

To his credit, I had almost fell over on more than one occasion.

I felt that hulking chest of his deflate a bit underneath me as he sighed.

In reality I knew I was probably stomping on his last nerve and I'd deserve every bit of hostility but I was just excited.

The prospect of getting away from a place I never thought I'd leave was exciting for me.

I had mixed feelings on the whole situation, of course.

Leaving friends and family but at least it stopped the pillaging and I got to see the world.... or at the very least the sea.

I looked up at Bjorn, taking in his features.

He was a very rough man sort of man and in that there was such a beauty to him.

Not that I'd ever tell him such a thing.

I had no intentions of inflating his already enormous head on the situation.

"Hey." I said and he glanced down at me to acknowledge that he'd heard me.

"Tell me about your gods." I said and he lifted an eyebrow at me.

"What?" he asked, a tiny glint flickered in his eye.

"Your gods." I said. "I don't know anything about them and while I've honestly not been very interested in the customs of my village...I guess I should know if I'm supposed to marry a ..." I stopped to fake a gag. "prince."

He chuckled at me and swatted my bottom in jest.

"What is your distaste with the idea of being a princess?" he asked.

"You answer me first." I challenged.

"Honestly, it'll take much longer to explain the gods to you." he said. "And I'm not even sure that I should be the one to do such a thing."

"Is it only gods?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Is it only men?  Are there women as well?" I asked laying my cheek upon his chest, relaxing a little into the warmth of him.

His arm pulled me closer so that his hands might lock around me.

"There are many goddesses." he said.

"It's not like that where I'm from." I remarked. "Women... women aren't looked at for much of anything in my village.  To breed and bare children and if you don't...."

I didn't want to finish the tale to be honest because while I did have some fond memories of my village there were many that were not.

Bjorn seemed to notice my sudden drop in mood but I didn't really feel like elaborating on it.

He was silent for a moment.

"There is Freyja. She is a goddess of love and war." he said. "And her twin brother Freyr is a god of farming.  They are both gods of fertility.  We usually offer some form of swine to the twins."

"Offer?" I questioned.

"Slay it." he confirmed.  "We slaughter the hog and have it in the form of feast in honor of them.   Cats are sacred to Freyja as well."

"I like cats." I said. "Never had one.  Tried to keep one once but it scratched me and ran off."

"That sounds like another hateful little creature I know." he teased and I lightly punched his side making him chuckle.

"Frigg is the wife of Odin.  She is the goddess of wisdom and destiny.  She can tug at the threads of fate.  So if you stay in her favor she'll help you and if not she'll hinder you.   Sound familiar?" he teased and I glared up at him.

"She's also linked with the sky, fertility, mothers and home." he said.  

"Tell me more." I said sleepily snuggling into him.

His deep voice rumbled in his chest and lulled me right off to sleep.  

I awoke a few hours later to the sound of laughter and the bright sun shining right in my face.

Bjorn had long since moved from beneath me and was standing near the front of the boat.

The men were merry as food and drink were passed around.

Apparently, the day was good and accordign to the talk amongst them....the gods had showed the voyage favor.

They'd pulled in many fish from the nets and there was a piece of land in the distance.

"Good morning, Princess to Be." said the same man from the night before with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips.  

"Morning." I mumbled and narrowed my eyes but a smile on my lips none the less.

"Sten." he said and produced his hand to which I accepted and responded with my own.

"Eh, we might just call ye, Wee Demon." he teased and I shook my head at him.  "Bjorn Ironside and his Wee Demon Bride."

"I'm not anyone's anything!" I snapped and he laughed.

I moved past the chuckling men and found Bjorn's hulking figure.

"Are there no women present here at all?" I asked him.

"Good morning to you too." he laughed looking out at the morning sun.

I blew a breath of frustration out through my nose.

"Good morning, dear husband to be.  If it pleases you could you be so kind as to inform if any other creatures other than men inhabit this voyage?" I asked sarcastically.

He laughed at me, "Yes, there are many shieldmaidens with us.  Most of which are on that boat there."

I squinted in the distance where I did in fact see many women inhabiting a particular boat.

Upon further inspection I discovered the were peppered amongst all the boats.  

I guess I just didn't realize due to my excitement and exhaustion.

In fairness, they did bare many of the same hairstyles and armor.

At a glance, it wasn't that obvious.

"What's a shieldmaiden?" I asked.

"A warrior who happens to be a woman." he said.

"Can I meet them?" I asked.

"Are you interested in women?" he asked and I furrowed my brows at him.

"Excuse me?" I said. "How is that any of your business?"

"It's my business because I know those women and they'd love to get their hands on a soft, plump thing like you." he said.

"You don't own me, Bjorn." I said.

"So you keep reminding me." he said. "Even though you literally have no place to-"

"I will jump off this damn boat right now." I said staring up at him.

"Jump then." he countered.

"I would rather die than live wedded to a husband who thinks he can control me." I said.  "So you let me know.  Are you gonna be a tyrant or not?  Because I'd rather die."

We stared each other down for the longest time.

The few moments of sweetness we had were fine but in reality.... this was not a fairy tale romance.

We'd struck a bargain but we hadn't fallen in love.

He stared at me for a moment longer before turning to the closest board and signaling them.

"Revna!" he called out and a tall woman with long black hair looked up.

In honestly, she was the most breathtaking woman I'd ever seen in my life.

The sheer power of her.

You just didn't see women like that were I came from.

The two boats came a bit closer together and he looked down at me.

"Go on then." he said.  "If you're so determined to jump it shouldn't be a problem for you to swim the rest of the way."

"We can let the wee boat down for her." piped up a man from the back of the boat.

"No, let her go ahead." he said challenging me.

Mistake.

I glared at him momentarily before climbing over the side and diving into the water.

Yes, it was freezing.

Yes, it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing into me.

Yes, it felt like my lungs were about to explode as I broke the surface.

However, I'd drown before I'd let him see that.

I didn't even bother to look at him as I turned and swam towards the other boat.

The women there pulled me up and wrapped me in a fur.

I was enveloped into a ruckus of laughter, welcomes and congratulations.

I stared Bjorn down from across the water.

Truthfully, I was just as spiteful as he was but I'd be damned before I admitted that.

The woman known as Revna embraced me with a grin.

In person, she was much larger than I originally thought and quite intimidating.  

"Welcome!" she said.  "That was quite a move.  We could've came and got you but I like a ballsy woman."

"Back off, Revna." one of the women laughed. "Apparently, she's supposed to be Bjorn's new wife."

"We'll see." I shrugged sassily and they roared in laughter.

"Fiery." Revna laughed.  "I do like you."

I smiled, "He's not really so bad. He just likes to tell me what to do and I've never really reacted all that well to it."  

She chuckled, "Bjorn is a decent man.   He's had many a wife before but he's a decent man.  He just falls in love too quick and likes to travel a lot.   Sometimes this is hard on a relationship."

"I didn't know he'd been married before." I commented.

"Yeah." she chuckled passing me a bit of butter and bread.  "Fair few times.  A few have gotten themselves killed.  Some just divorced."

"I told him I had no intentions of playing his little wife." I said before savagely cramming the bread in my mouth.

"We heard!" another woman said. "Everyone has been talking about how you might actually be the one to deal with him."

"Oh I'll deal with him alright." I grumbled.

"And so the honeymoon phase is over." Revna chuckled.

I glared at the side of his face.

If he wanted to be pissy then so did I.

Hello, darlings.  Just a wee bit of a lover's quarrel, lol.  They're both such tempermental brats.

I hope you enjoyed the next installment and that you have a lovely day.

Love, Kenny

@frankie2902

@pleasantdreamqueen   @becrazy–beyou –beyou

@becrazy-beweird

@littledeadrottinghood @blackirisposts

@therealmrshale @woodworthti666

@jimmys-afterlife-love-deactivat @thegreatirene@fanfictionandjunk

@angelus320

@alanlizzingtonshore@buriednurbckyrd@disneymarina@@tubbypeachwriting

@sullybot @georgiagrl1990 @whenallsaidanddone

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Love, Kenny

#bjorn ironside x plus size reader #bjorn ironside #vikings #vikings x reader #vikings x plus size reader #bjorn ironside imagine #ps reader #plus size reader

[andy-the-8th]

Day Of and Day After - Jess (Part 1)

First part of Creatures That Defy Logic - picks up right at the end of the movie

Read on AO3

There are a lot emotions wrapped up in seeing your best friend transform into a merman

"I finally get a friend, and he turns into a fish; this is so typical."

Damn, there were a lot of feelings wrapped up in the last few minutes. Jess had always been better with facts over feelings - science was straightforward, people were complicated. The whirlpool of emotions over such a quick span of time even more complicated, for him as well as everyone else there on the dock.

Exhilaration and awe - it was one thing to have been alongside Cody for the last few weeks, see his changes, speculate and then know he was a merman, in theory - and another thing entirely to see him fully transform and breach with a glittering tail right in broad daylight. Not exactly every day that creatures (people?) straight out of mythology just appear right in front of you. And the excitement that they'd get to hear about whatever he saw when he was away? New sealife, mysteries of the open oceans, may even merpeople culture? One hell of a prospect for anyone, triply so for an aspiring marine biologist.

Relief - more of a twofold sensation as well. Most prominently in the last few minutes, it certainly was a relief to not be dead. Almost drowning, no vital signs, shocked back to life by merman lightning - that'll do a wild number on your feelings about your own mortality. Still, Jess was kind of surprised that that wasn't the main sense of relief he felt right now.

Much more powerfully, he was relieved that Cody was safe. That boy's lack of self-preservation had scared Jess half to death plenty of times over - risking himself at the swim meets, ignoring the advice to stay away from the water, potentially blowing his cover to Sean or the school or worse. Whether or not it was normal to care so much, Jess didn't know or really care - he had spent plenty of nights unable to sleep, worried sick with images of cruel scientists, cold laboratory tanks, faceless men in black suits, dissection tables, taxidermists, freak shows - all kinds of threats, and the only thing Jess could about them was to try to keep Cody's secret.

So all that in mind, there was the relief that Cody had finally gotten away from all of that. Going off with his mermaid mom (mermom?), another mythological creature as far as 99.99% of the world knew, safely out to sea. Maybe that was merpeople's best protection, that short of having physical evidence, most of the world didn't believe in them - guess that's how they manage to avoid discovery. Most people anyway. On that topic though, the next feeling Jess was dealing with -

Anger. This one didn't even really start to register until after Cody had resurfaced to wave goodbye one last time, but thinking about all the threats he'd been afraid of, Jess couldn't avoid the conclusion that his own father should have been at the top of that list. Hadn't he literally just kidnapped his friend to use him as bait? What had been his plan then, if he'd caught Cody's mom? His dad's mermaid obsession had just been a mundane fact of life growing up - a kind of sad, fruitless endeavor. He didn't like to think his dad was crazy, but it didn't mean he really had believed his mermaid stories and theories since he'd grown out of that. It was just like any parent's eccentric hobby - kind of embarrassing sometimes but ultimately innocuous, right? Jess hadn't ever thought of how dangerous it might have been if his father had caught on - and he mentally kicked himself for not making that connection, for not planning for it, for not talking his dad out of it - Jess had basically caught him at the swim meet, and guessed he'd have put it together when Jess was reading through his mermaid theory papers, talking about the thirteenth year theory - but actually capturing Cody and his mom? The dull, cold fear that had caught in Jess's throat when he'd seen his father testing the giant net, when he'd biked at top speed to the Griffin's house, when he'd found the cove empty, Cody already gone -

Well, at least the upside of almost-dying was shocking John Wheatley into the danger of his actions, to his own son if not the merpeople. Jess was pretty sure his father just hadn't been thinking of the consequences past simply catching the mermaid - was never really much of a realist like that.

This didn't make Jess any less angry with him.

On top of all of these feelings, and maybe least expected - loss?

He definitely wasn't expecting that. Sure, the feeling of loss was all around him - however temporary his departure, Cody going away was definitely crossing a line. He wasn't human, and for each person on the dock, that meant on some level, he wasn't really theirs anymore. Sam was losing her boyfriend, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin their child. In a way even his dad was losing his proof to justify his obsessive search over the last 13 years. Sure, Jess was losing his friend, but hadn't their relationship been built around helping Cody through this transformation? What was he losing, if this was just the logical endpoint? He'd known where the transformation was headed, and he didn't expect to feel anything other than scientific satisfaction now it was done.

Jess told himself it was natural to feel like this; humans are social creatures, empathy has been one of our strongest survival tools over the course of our evolution. To solve problems together. To care about each other. Like it or not, we feel how the others around us feel, in one way or another. It was simple science.

His whole time with Cody had been like the best science project ever - an fantastical extension of the assignment that had brought them together. The thrill of getting to know him had been tied to the thrill of discovering his new abilities, helping him test them, spending hours talking through theories and myths. From a purely scientific standpoint, spending time with Cody was fascinating. It was simply to be expected that he'd want to spend as much time with him as he could - as a scientist.

What Jess hadn't expected was Cody's interest in getting to know him in turn. It made sense - Cody was going through strange changes, and Jess was the closest source of finding answers. And more or less, Jess knew that that was the glue of their friendship. He wasn't bothered by that, really.

Of course Cody would listen attentively when he went off on a string of marine biology theories, whether to get ahead in school or to make sense of his transformations. Of course he'd start asking Jess to hang out when they were free - no one else knew what was going on, and he'd been drifting away from his real friends. Cody didn't trust anyone else with the secret - and that was simple self-preservation, to seek out a scientist, rather than a friend. Especially someone who wouldn't blow the secret.

And there had been a kind of special thrill in that for the first few weeks - Jess got to be the only one who knew. Jess got to be the only one who Cody trusted.

A purely scientific thrill.

Jess suddenly shivered as the salty breeze picked up a bit, snapping him out of his own head and the feelings rushing through it. Cody had probably only been gone a few minutes, even if it felt like hours. Mrs. Griffin was still quietly crying, leaning back on Mr. Griffin, both of them still facing the water. Jess didn't really know if he was supposed to say anything to them, or leave them to each other. Should he confront his dad now? Should he try to talk to Sam? oh god he should apologize for the kissing comment but would that just make it worse?

The silence grew more tense for the next several moments, until Sam finally spoke.

"I - I guess I'll just be going home now." Jess could hear that she was pushing to sound confident after crying. She shook her long red hair back behind her shoulders and readjusted her shirt as she stood up straight.

"Oh hon, don't worry, we can drive you back to your place." Mrs. Griffin looked up, finding her voice again, almost sounding relieved to be able to help someone, do something.

"No thanks, Mrs. G, I want to walk. I want to, uh, decompress. Take some time alone to, to y'know, process this. Just feel like I should get some air" she finished hurriedly, with a half-laugh, at the normality of the statement. She nodded awkwardly as she backed away, toward the steps leading up from the floating dock, a pursed-lips-everything's-fine-fake-smile on her face. "Jess, I'll see you at school then?"

Sam had almost never acknowledged him outside of talking through or next to Cody, so Jess gave a somewhat confused nod and tried to smile at her. They only had one day of school left, mostly to pack up books, say goodbye to everyone, and leave for the summer.

"OK wait then" Mrs. Griffin was quickly more serious, purposeful. "I know this would probably go without saying, but you kids cannot tell anyone what happened here." She was talking at Jess and Sam, but had an uncharacteristically sharp glare at Big John as she said this. He didn't miss that, and immediately looked penitent and cowed.

Clearly, Jess wasn't the only one angry at his father for using Cody as live bait.

"Of course!" Jess immediately responded emphatically, even a bit incredulously. He was almost put out that she felt the need to say this, as if they all hadn't - as if he hadn't, longer than anyone - kept Cody's secret safe.

"We'll, um...we'll just tell the school, um..." she was casting about, turning to her husband, looking for a quick explanation.

"Hon we don't need to tell the school anything right now - it's summer vacation, it's not that weird to leave a day early."

"No, we need to be clear, we need a convincing story -

"If anyone really asks we can say he's doing a swim training camp, and he'll be away most of the summer" Mr. Griffin offered, a slight twinge of his usual humor back in his inflection. "It's not really that far from the truth. We'll say it's somewhere in Australia, far enough away from anyone looking to visit or call. And your sister lives out there anyway." He put his hand on his wife's shoulder - Jess thought it looked like he was reassuring and steadying himself as much as he was for her.

Sharon breathed quickly, calming herself. "OK, perfect!" Mrs. Griffin clearly seemed relieved - not calmed, but at least less frantic. Jess was also happy to have something simple and straightforward to tell anyone who asked.

Not like anyone will ask *me* anyway he thought. Jess always had been used to being more or less invisible when it came to social gossip at school, which he honestly preferred. And furthermore, probably for the better, it wasn't like anyone really associated him with Cody, even the teachers. At least not in any meaningful way beyond biology homework. No one would think to ask the nerd that Cody Griffin got unluckily saddled with for a science project what had happened to him.

"OK. OK, good. I'll see you all later then." Sam was hurriedly wiping her face as she turned on her heel, dashing up the steps to the main pier above the floating dock. She was quickly out of sight.

"Jess, you wanna go home, get dried off?" His dad was looking at him now, worry still coating his words. John Wheatley was not a particularly emotional man when it came to anything other than fishing and sea monster stories, but he clearly had not forgotten how close a call his son had just had. "Maybe go to a doctor?"

Jess could hear Mrs. Griffin's sharp intake of breath at what Cody had always humorously called "the D word." Thinking of Cody laughing at that caused the corner of Jess's mouth to twitch up for a second. But once his dad had turned to him, Jess could still see Mrs. Griffin staring daggers into his back.

"No I'll be fine. I feel fine, really." Jess could hear his anger seeping into his own voice and inflection but didn't really care. John Wheatley may have been more thoughtless than he was malicious, but that wasn't enough for Jess to forgive him right now, and he was still too much of a mess of emotions to process any of that with other people.

"I'm going to head home. Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, um, have a good summer?" His inflection put it through as a question - he wasn't really sure what to say but at least that sounded funny enough to deflate the situation as much as possible. It worked - both the Griffins kind of quietly laughed at that.

"You too Jess. We'll see you soon." Jess smiled back at Mrs. Griffin's words, then hesitantly started to walk back up the dock. He was actually surprised that he didn't feel any dizziness or illness after being revived - apparently merman-made hand (fin?) defibrillation worked wonders for the body. He turned and started up the steps roughly, quickening as he reached the top. Big John didn't move to stop him, pausing awkwardly at the foot of the steps, clearly getting the message that Jess didn't want to talk to him right now. Jess reached the main dock and turned across the parking lot of the marina, down the little road toward the family boat yard and sheds, shoulders straight, and not looking back.

#the thirteenth year #mermen #mermaid #dcom #disney #disney channel original movies

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

How Deep Is Your Love - A New Saga.

Jim Mason x Mermaid (AU)

Summary: All Jim Mason wants is to escape his turbulent in PV. Aurelia longs to find adventure beyond the sea. Once they collide together, their budding love becomes forbidden once Cornelius, King of the Ocean, learns his daughter is consorting with a human. 

Warnings: Open Ocean, things get dicey for Jim!

A/N: I cannot thank @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern​ enough for this brand new saga. She owns the original idea and we fangirled and came up with this legendary idea. This is an AU inspired by The Little Mermaid and will feature a cast of very familiar characters including Michael and Duncan. This is also the first time I have used a name for the ‘reader’ character. I hope you all enjoy, invest and love it as much as we do. 

Beautiful banner created by @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern​

JIM

The ocean is always calm first thing in the morning. Jim likes to be out as the sun rises, before the Bay Boys can get in the way and ruin the beauty of nature. His arms paddle Jim and his board out, a tiny wave swelling under him and lifting him as he bobs through the sea. Up ahead a dolphin’s tail arc out of the sea and a smile catches Jim’s lips. 

  Here he’s free. 

Out on the ocean, he’s home. 

He didn’t check the weather today, didn’t need to. The entire week had been a swell of sunshine and blue skies. Jim turns round on his board and lies his back against it, letting himself drift off into his dreams. The sun makes has his skin gleaming a healthy bronze as a wave laps against his board. Jim frowns, it’s bigger than the others. 

A rogue wave…it must be.

A raindrop falls on his shoulder and then another. Then another. The sky opens and rain hammers down, dark clouds circling above. The waves gather momentum, as if Poseidon himself had decided to reign down terror against him. Jim paddles and swims for shore, the waves lift and throwing Jim and his board forwards. The storm howls behind him, a wave nearly knocking him off his board.

He’s in trouble. Jim’s black wetsuit means no one can see him. 

The rain blurs his vision. He can hardly see a thing, just the momentum of the waves which to Jim’s horror are taking him further out to sea. His arms burn and then everything goes wrong. Jim’s board flips upwards, smacks him in the forehead and he’s in the water. He flails to stay above water, but wave after wave after wave crashes over him.

He can’t get enough oxygen. The leash on his surfboard is dragging Jim through the water, the current and waves are too much and his lungs are screaming along with every fibre and sinew in his body. 

He’s drowning. 

His arms work to try and free him from the leash and then pain unlike anything Jim has felt streaks through him. There’s blood in the water, blood and rain and rock and then…nothing. 

AURELIA

She’d always been adventurous. Aurelia loved nothing more than exploring an ocean that never seemed to end. There was a call to adventure around every coral reef, each fish with its own identity and ability to breeze through life. She was a saviour of the sea. Befriending those who were little and ready to go toe-to-toe with the predators who looked at her like she was a fine piece of plankton.

Today she’d swam far, disobeying her Daddy again and preferring to hitch a ride on Jigsaw’s fin. The Dolphin was as familiar to her as seaweed, Aurelia’s tail whipping behind her and cutting through the water as Jigsaw arced up and broke the water’s surface. Aurelia peeped above the ocean-line, a thrill licking her veins. Daddy always advised against their people going close to shore. 

What will they say to you? A girl out in the middle of the ocean? They will capture you. They will hurt you. We stick to our own kind. 

But the world above was ever-changing. The sea only held so much for her. Unable to swim lower than The Midnight Zone, forced to remain in the well-lit parts of the ocean or risk her lungs exploding, there was little Aurelia in her twenty-five years had not seen. 

But she would never show her tail. 

She’d kill someone before they saw her fully. 

Above her, the clouds had begun to darken. Aurelia glanced over at Jigsaw, who made a click and she nodded, diving back down with the dolphin. Better to get deep enough to avoid all bad weather till it had passed. Finding a flat rock, Aurelia stretched out, watching as her friend swept up small pieces of food, diving in and out of the coral. Her fingers swept over some of the Sea Anemones who bristled at her touch. A little further, some of the coral was stark white and bleached. 

A pang filled her heart as Aurelia’s gaze lifted upwards, towards the patter of rain hammering the top of the ocean. 

Humans will never understand. 

If it weren’t for Jigsaw, the board would have hit her. Her friend’s nose pushes hard into Aurelia’s ribs, steering her clear as the board cuts through the water above them. The water tumbles and rocks Aurelia as the storm intensifies above. A body is flung through the water, an arm smacking Jigsaw who whistles in indignation. 

A human…this far out? 

Aurelia knows the US shoreline is a good seventy miles from where they are. She can taste the current, whipped into a frenzy by the storm. Jigsaw has already swum after the human, his instincts kicking in. Aurelia is quick to follow, beating her tail and entering the current. Spurred on, she catches up easy as the board with its human slow to a stop. The human is unconscious, male. The body curls in and then expands in the water, just a couple meters above the surface. 

Aurelia halts, he could already be dead. 

Jigsaw swims under the body and pushes upwards, carrying the man to the surface. The board rises with him. Its then Aurelia realises the man’s ankle is attached. 

A surfboard.

She’s seen them often. Humans who ride the waves with little care for their lives in order to get a thrill. They know nothing about the ocean, or what lives inside it. She tugs at the leash as Jigsaw lies flat, giving the surfer some much needed oxygen. Aurelia tugs again and the leash releases, freeing the man as the board starts to drift. Catching it, the mermaid transfers the man from Jigsaw’s back to the board. He’s heavy, weighed down by water as she hoists her body onto the board. Her tail dips out of the water as she positions the surfer and begins to slide back into the water. 

He’s a beautiful boy. Eyes shut, but with full lips and skin bronzed from the sun. He’s new and exciting, even if he might be dead. Aurelia looks to Jigsaw again, who splashes the surfer with a flipper. The dolphin is quick to circle round, impatience and concern brewing as he whistles low again. 

‘We have to try.’ Aurelia murmurs. ‘We should get him to shore.’ 

The dolphin seems to share the idea. His nose pressing against the surfboard as Jigsaw pushes them through the water. It’s hard-work, his tail beating fast as Aurelia swims beside him. A protectiveness swells inside her, for the surfer and her bestest friend. 

No one else would save him with her. No one else would understand. 

The surfboard rolls up against the sand and stills, unable to move anymore. Jigsaw’s nearly beached himself as he slides back into the water. Aurelia hesitates, looking round for humans. 

There’s none. The houses overlooking the beach are motionless and quiet. 

The boy will still die if she doesn’t do something. 

Jigsaw clicks a warning as Aurelia crawls along the beach, abandoning the safety of the shallows. Her fingers brush some hair out of the surfer’s eyes, a hand running down his chest and pressing. She unzips his wetsuit down as far as she can and starts to pump, instincts carrying her as water spits out of the surfer’s lips and nose. His ankle is raw from the leash, Aurelia’s hand travelling down to run her fingers along the wound. The song leaves her lips as she works, a hummed lullaby from her childhood. The wound dissipates, flesh melding together, the redness leaving as the song blooms inside her. 

Music held so much healing, Aurelia’s head tilting up to the sun as she peers down at the surfer’s toned body. How she’d like to keep just this one. Give in to her urge to lure him back to sea and keep him with her forever. 

Her song dies as the surfer’s eyes open. Blue, crystalline and confused. 

JIM 

His head feels fogged, as if there is literal water on his brain. He squints, despite the cloudy, dull day as a balm numbs his every sense. Someone’s touching him. Someone’s got him wrapped in a blanket of beauty, soft green eyes capturing his own as he stares up at the woman bending over him. 

She’s more beautiful than heaven, looking down on him.

Her eyes crease in fear, but Jim’s already roamed down her figure, past the little sea-shell bra that covers her breasts to her…the girl darts back into the water as Jim surges upwards. His body drives him forwards on pure adrenaline. He’s coughing up more water and the world tilts and he’s crying out for her, ‘NO WAIT!’ 

Her tail, iridescent arcs up and disappears as Jim’s left coughing in the shallows. A tiny wave licks at his chest and he scrambles backward away from the water. 

He was lazing about. The clouds. The storm. The…he turns back to his surfboard, hardly scratched apart from the broken leash. 

The girl. 

She…saved him?

Jim gets to his feet, shaking. He wants to find her, but…no. 

They’re not real. 

He’s hallucinated. 

He’s probably dead after all. 

It wouldn’t surprise him. 

‘JIM.’ His head turns as a punch lands at his shoulder. Blonde hair and furious, Medina glowers at him. ‘Tell me you were not out in that storm.’ 

Jim pulls his twin close, hugging her fiercely. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

‘You’re an idiot.’ She cries, head burrowing into his shoulder. ‘Please, Jim. No more stupid ideas.’

‘I know.’ He says, ‘I didn’t know there was going to be a storm.’

‘You’re lucky you’re not dead.’ 

Jim knows he is. His gaze lifts back out to the ocean, scanning the horizon to see any glimpse of her. 

There.

She’s watching him, half her body lying on a rock. She’s trying to hide from him and failing miserably. Beside her a dolphin swirls in a figure of eight. 

Jim lets Medina pull him back to the house, back to his Mom and the spending and reality. He knows he should feel terrified by the ocean, from what just happened. But as he sits on the couch, leaving a wet-patch Mom is sure to kill him for, Jim’s only thought is when he can get back out there again. How he can find her. 

Tag-List: @leatherduncan @sojournmichael @duncvns @elizabethbennett @mochitheruby @dyns33 @xavierplympton @jimmlangdon @emmyrosee @brattylovee @lizhomitz1984 @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​ @rocketgirl2410 @satansfavouritesons @blakewaterxx​ @lvngdvns​ 

#jim mason #Jim Mason x reader #Jim Mason imagine #new series #Jim Mason series #the NEW runaway saga #how deep is your love #Cody fern #Cody Fern characters #Michael Langdon #Duncan Shepherd #the tribes of palos verdes #pv #mermaid #aurelia #Jim Mason x mermaid #the little mermaid inspired #ocean #forbidden love

[alecmagnuslwb]

Summer Vacation

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Twenty-Six

Read on AO3

“Fourteen days, that’s all we wanted and we couldn’t even get halfway through it!” Zatanna shouts in anger knocking another bot sporting sharp silver teeth back with a high kick as she flings out another blast of magic at a line of them creeping up on John.

“I told you joining the Justice League would bite us in the arse!” he shouts conjuring up a handful of fire pushing the flames directly into the chest of a bot in front of him.

Zatanna flips a bot over her shoulder blasting it with a burst of magic as it lands on the soft sand.

“I told you joining the Justice League would bite us in the arse,” she says in a bad impression of John her voice going down in octaves and then up.

“I heard that!” he shouts back as a bot slashes out at him, John jumps back in time but the bot still makes contact leaving a barely there scratch against his bare chest.

Zatanna knocks the bot back from him with a blast of magic before focusing back on the line in front of her.

“Good,” she says as she picks up the beach towel crumpled at her feet. She wraps it around the bot’s head and punches it in the face hard once before blasting it back. “You were supposed to.”

It’s not like things like this didn’t happen to them before the Justice League, it’s just become a little more frequent lately.

This is not the summer vacation they were hoping for. In the year since Zatanna convinced John to join up with her on the Justice League they’ve helped stop at least a dozen near apocalypses, three alone of which have been within the past month. These two weeks were supposed to be a break away from it all, just her, John, a few beaches and some dive bars that reminded them of when they first met.

And for five blissful days that’s what it had been. Until today when somewhere between threatening to throw John in the ocean if he suggested they have sex on this very public beach one more time and a sip of her drink a scream had broken out at the other end of the beach.

Zatanna had never wished that someone was just lightly drowning so badly in her life. That of course would have been too easy of a fix. Instead a line of bots were rising up from the water attacking the innocent beachgoers.

Zatanna and John had just looked at each other disappointedly and within seconds they were in all-out battle against dozens of evil water bots. Water bots that look a lot like the handiwork of Black Manta, meaning this really should be Aquaman territory. His vacations don’t seem to get interrupted though, lucky fish bastard.

Another bot swipes out a hand at her back nearly catching on the straps of her Ouija board printed bikini. For a brief second she wonders how some of the more scantily clad villains and heroes she knows fight like this.

Another wave of bots pull up from the water as she knocks what she thought was the last one down.

“That’s it, we’re finishing this,” she says through frustrated gritted teeth. She rolls her neck then runs over to John’s side as he finishes off the last of his bots.

He looks out at the ocean seeing the line she’s watching storm the beach.

“Son of a bitch,” he says brushing off his hands.

“You remember Malta?” she says already drawing on the power in her core.

John smirks tilting his head in her direction. “Malta ’01 or ’14?”

Zatanna smiles a wicked little smile her eyes already glowing with magic. “It’s Manta tech so it needs water, right?” she says building a barrier between the new bots and the line of civilians still cowering behind a nearby wall. “So I’d say ’01.”

Malta ’01 had been a beautiful blissful five days of nudity for the pair. It had also been the site of a massive magical sea succubus that they’d had to deal with for the sake of the locals. To this day it’s considered an act of apocalyptic proportions that the Chadwick Lakes ran dry suddenly a massive monster washing up out of them.

John chuckles. “I love the way you think,” he says pressing a hand to one of the magic sigils on his chest. “How long you think we’ll need to hold it?”

“Couple minutes should do, not quite as dramatic as ’01,” she says holding out her hand palm up for John to take. He does, entwining their fingers together. They both close their eyes a string of Latin said in unison as John draws on the sigil on his chest and Zatanna pulls pure raw power from her core.

“Maybe we can have a repeat of the rest of Malta when we’re done here,” John suggests with a squeeze of her hand his tone far too suggestive.

Zatanna likes the sound of it.

“I love the way you think,” she says parroting his words from before.

One second the bots are advancing on them, the water rushing around them and the next every drop of water is whisking away back up into the sky and receding out. They open their eyes focusing their power on the water and watch as the bots seize up, crumpling in on themselves. A few stragglers attempt to run back into the ocean, but Zatanna focuses on it pushing the water back further and further away from the bot’s reach.

It takes less than two minutes for all the bots to crumple up, scattered powerless on the beach. Zatanna and John meet each other’s eyes and break their hold. Just like that the water rushes back in and down from the sky in a single giant rainfall of sorts. The fish that had been gasping for air moments ago sink back under where they belong.

She hopes there were no fish casualties in this or she’ll never hear the end of it from Aquaman.

A burst of cheers from the civilians breaks out once they realize the beach day from hell is over and Zatanna stomps away back over to the space she and John had been occupying before all hell had broken loose.

“Stob eb dehsinab ot a drayparcs,” she says waving a hand at the beach as she goes. She throws herself down into the sand on her back, her towel long gone somewhere, with a frustrated huff. She looks around watching as the civilians mingle back to their spots on the beach, completely over the events of the past twenty minutes.

She’ll never stop being astounded about how desensitized people have become to superheroes, magic, aliens and everything in between.

She shifts looking up at the bright blue sky. Eventually the leg of John’s swim trunks that sport the colors of the bisexual flag come into view. She moves her head a little and notices the plain black leg have a scorched hole in them now.

“You alright, luv?” he asks settling down into the sand at her side his forearms resting on his knees. Zatanna just nods lifting herself up from the sand to sit up beside him. She feels the gritty sand sticking to her back and frowns.

John reaches out brushing it off of her best he can. Zatanna grabs his arm when he starts to pull it back and lays her head on his shoulder.

“You said something about having a repeat of the rest of Malta?” she says rubbing her cheek against his warm shoulder.

“I did,” he replies placing a quick kiss on her hair. “I’m thinkin’ if we don’t leave a bedroom there’s no way anymore mass evil assaults can find us.”

Zatanna snorts. “An army of demons has literally portalled into our bedroom before John,” she says thinking of at least three separate occasions that that statement applies to.

“Okay, well I can’t argue with that,” John concedes. “It’s still more fun that fighting robots on a beach though.”

Zatanna sighs looking out at the ocean that’s still a little choppy from their magic.

“Plus,” John adds after a moment. “No doubt fish boy will come looking for us to talk about this incident soon enough and if we’re holed away on some real nice dry land he’ll never be able to track us down.”

Zatanna pulls back and meets his eyes.

“We haven’t been to Vegas in a while,” she smiles already conjuring up a portal and pulling John up from the sand determined to get a peaceful rest of their vacation.

#my fic #writersmonth2020 #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara

[malecacidd]

#1 benji perhaps sea monster ben and pirate jill?? haha jkjk i mean whaaaat lol

I ended up going a little overboard with this one. Haha.

Actually thought it's three thousand words I'm so sorry

"Don't tell me what to do! It's my curse."

Ao3

--

Whenever his siblings had decided that they wanted to be pirates, sail the world and never look back to their childhoods, Ben couldn't really say no.

It was six against one, so he had no other choice but to go with them on a seemingly never ending adventure. He had known it was a bad idea, leaving everything they knew behind, but he definitely didn't anticipate the fact that they were going to get cursed by a magical siren that had basically been waiting for years for a ship to pass by her just so she could curse the people on it.

Unknowingly, Ben, on his turn steering the boat, had just brushed by the rock that had been the sirens home. Apparently, that was just enough to wake her and make her angry enough to curse them all.

Ben had known it was a bad idea. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to let his siblings live it down. If they lived through it.

The siren had made an angry face, waved her hand around, and suddenly their ship had a massive hole in it and was quickly sinking.

Like the idiots they were, they didn't plan well enough to have lifeboats, and they all ended up drowning.

They drowned, but they didn't die. As they were being consumed by the deep dark waters of the ocean, the siren had sighed, waved her hand again, and they were breathing once again. Only this time, they were underwater.

Each of their bodies started to change slowly and painfully. Allison grew webs between her fingers and toes, Luther's eyes moved to the sides of his head, Diego's teeth grew sharp, Vanya had fins pop out of the top of her head and back, Klaus grew gills on his neck, Five's legs molded together, and Ben…

Ben grew tentacles that remained permanently on his stomach. Fantastic.

The siren has said something about prophecies, and mermaids, and monsters to all of them, but Ben didn't really listen until she moved towards him, an evil smile on her face as she swirled her hand around dramatically in the water.

"You will have to steal the heart of someone who was just like you." She said, her smile growing into a harsh grin filled with sharp teeth. "Once your prophecy is complete, you will become a mermaid and no longer be such a hideous beast. You will never go back to the life you once had."

Ben stayed there staring straight forward as she moved on to Klaus, saying something about his prophecy that Ben didn't care enough to pay attention to. He was too horrified by his own that the siren had given to him.

He didn't want to steal someone's heart. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

When later heard what his siblings' prophecies were, he felt pretty cheated.

"All you have to do is find a comb thing?" Ben asked Allison incredulously. "I have to literally rip a pirate's heart out. What did I do to piss off that siren."

"Well," Klaus started, moving to be next to Ben. "You were the one driving the boat."

"Your task is easy too!" He said, deflecting. "Find some rare sea frog. Why do I have to hurt someone?"

"I think you're taking this a bit too literally bro." Diego cut in, swimming up to them with the knife that ended his curse in his hand.

Ben rolled his eyes. "What do you know. Your curse ended the day it started."

"Yeah," He responded, flipping the knife in the water. "That's because it was easy."

Ben groaned. "Why. Why did I agree to do that stupid pirate journey-"

"Oh come on." Vanya cut him off, swimming into view. "You know it was fun, and look," She swam around in a circle. "If you fulfill your prophecy, you get to be a mermaid. I still really don't think things ended up being too shity."

"You had to kill a fish." Ben said, voice flat. "I have to rip a heart out of a person's chest. We are not the same."

"Well, if you'd stop complaining and actually go to the surface to find a pirate-"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Ben quickly cut Klaus off, and he rolled his eyes. "It's my curse. Get rid of your own first."

"Well I'm tired of looking like a monster. I want to be a hot mermaid like these two over here," Klaus said, gesturing between Diego and Vanya who shared looks of disgust. "I'm going to the surface tomorrow to look for the sea frog thing. And you, mi hermano," He continued, wrapping an arm around Ben's shoulders. "Are coming with me."

After thinking about it for a moment, Ben relented. "Fine. But don't expect anything to happen. I'm nowhere near the point of being willing to kill someone. It hasn't even been three days yet."

Klaus rolled his eyes again. "I think you might be surprised by how easy your curse will be to break."

Ben hummed disbelievingly, but didn't say anything else.

He figured that he should save his voice to use it to complain all day tomorrow instead.

--

When Klaus eventually was able to get Ben up and moving, Ben found that he actually didn't really want to complain.

He wanted to end the curse. He didn't want to be an ugly monster anymore, and the tentacles that stuck out from his stomach were always annoyingly getting in the way of everything.

That didn't mean he was ready to do what he thought was needed to be done, though. He didn't want to steal someone's heart. He didn't want to reach into their chest and pull it out and make their blood spill, didn't want to kill them.

It didn't take too long for them to get to the surface, and Klaus pulled Ben to sit up on the first available rock. It was the first time that they had been out of the ocean since they had been cursed, and Ben couldn't say that he liked it.

"So," Klaus started after only a minute of sitting on the rock, jumping back into the water, "I'm gonna go look for this frog thing. I think that siren bitch said it was green, or maybe orange. No! It was purple! Yeah, purple. Anyways I'll be back in, like, an hour, if I find the frog-" He shook his head with a smile. "Well, if I find the frog you'll be able to tell. Bye Benny, have fun stealing hearts."

Before Ben could say anything in response to that, Klaus dove under the water, and he sighed, turning his head to look up to the sky. It was dark, but filled with thousands of stars. Ben couldn't remember the last time he had seen stars.

What had only felt like a split second must have been an hour, because suddenly Klaus popped up from under the water, splashing Ben in the face with his new tail. Ben tried not to look too disappointed at the sight.

"What color was it then?" Ben asked, a small smile on his face.

Klaus moved to sit on the rock next to him, elbowing his side. "Yellow, actually."

He laughed quietly before going completely silent, looking back up to the stars.

"You know," Klaus started, and Ben sighed, looking down at the water, already knowing what he was going to say. "It might be a while until anyone passes by-"

"You can go back." He said, cutting him off. "If you want, considering you already got rid of your curse."

Klaus leaned back suddenly, almost as if he was surprised by what he said, and Ben tilted his head in confusion. "That's… not what I was going to say." He said, and Ben let out a quiet "oh."

"I was just going to ask how long you wanted to stay for? Because we can always come back." Klaus asked, and Ben shrugged.

They ended up agreeing on coming once a week for a few hours at a time, but, of course, that plan fell apart as time went on.

Eventually, Klaus stopped coming with him and stayed with their siblings and his new mermaid boyfriend instead.

All of Ben's siblings had fulfilled their prophecies and gotten rid of their curses within a month of getting them, and yet, here Ben still was, going up to the surface for hours at a time, and still had not even seen a pirate that he might be able to try and steal the heart of.

Every once in a while, a ship would pass by a few miles away from the rock Ben always stayed on, but he never had the courage to swim out towards it. None of the ships ever came close enough to notice the tentacle monster, glued to his rock.

Within a year, Ben had stopped swimming back down to be with his siblings. He stayed on the rock constantly, waiting and watching.

Every once in a while, his siblings would come to visit him, bringing their partners and new friends, and Ben still sat. Waiting.

He loved Claire, Allison's daughter, and he adored Diego's girlfriends, Eudora and Lila, but not even they could convince him to come back down into the depths of the ocean.

Another year had passed, and there had only been one instance when a ship passed close by enough for the people on it to see him, and he had blown his first chance to actually break his curse.

The ship had turned his way while he sat on the rock, but before anyone could see him, he jumped off of it and hid behind the larger side.

As the ship came closer, he heard someone say something about seeing a person in the water, and he immediately started swimming downwards, watching the ship move away from a mile below before glumly swimming back up to his rock.

Even if he had stayed, what would he have said? Was he supposed to just grab one of them and kill them before ripping their heart out of their chest? What if the others on the ship killed him in return?

Either way, he still didn't think that he would be able to do that. What was he supposed to do after he took the heart anyways? Was he supposed to keep it? If he got rid of it would his curse come back?

He really didn't want to do this.

He really, <i>really</i> didn't want to sit on this rock for the rest of his monstrous life.

He didn't know what to do.

--

Not too long after the first incident, another much smaller and much less populated ship started to come by.

It wasn't even a ship, really. It was more of a lifeboat with only one person on it, sitting in the center and floating around aimlessly.

Just as Ben had the first time, when he saw the ship turn towards him, he jumped off of the highest point of the rock and moved to hide himself behind it, only sticking his head up enough to watch as the person got closer.

The person on the ship was beautiful. She had dark skin and big bright eyes full of life, despite the circumstance she was in. She had on blue clothes and a large captains hat, her glasses sitting high on her nose.

He must've been too distracted with his staring to notice the way her ship only drifted closer, and by the time he actually did notice, it was far too late for him to swim away.

The second she saw him, her face lit up with a grin, and he couldn't help but smile back and pull himself up further on the rock, still shielding the lower half of his body with it.

"Hey!" She called out, using her hands to propel herself closer. And he tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped when she pulled her boat close enough to the rock to hop out of it, making it secure enough to come sit close to him. He pressed himself harder into the rock, hoping that none of his tentacles were showing.

"H-hey," He managed to get out, and she tilted her head, a small smile on her face.

"So," She started, looking around the expanse of nothingness. "I'm assuming you're stranded too?" He nodded. "Yeah, why else would you be out on a rock in the middle of the ocean."

"Yeah, yeah. There's no other reason. I'm definitely stranded."

She laughed a little bit before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jill."

He reached out with a shaky hand and shook hers before quickly pulling it back. She looked at him oddly, but didn't say anything. She was kind, he could tell.

"Yeah, me and my crew got shipwrecked, hit a bunch of rocks. This was the only boat left," She put a hand on the small wooden boat, "And by the time the ship had gone down, all of the guys were gone. They probably think I'm dead or something."

She tilted her head down, and Ben couldn't help but notice the way her eyes watered slightly. He didn't know what to say, so he moved his hand from where he was holding himself up on the rock to pat her knee in what he hoped was a reassuring way. She looked back up at him and smiled.

"So, what happened to you?" She asked, discreetly wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Ben froze. "What."

"How did you get here, I mean." She said, moving to lay on her back and look up at the sky. The sun was already starting to set, and her eyes shined in the light.

"I uh," He started, shifting slightly in the water, unsure of what he could say. "I went sailing with my siblings."

"Oh?" She said, turning on her side to face him. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah. They're okay, I think." He said, and she gave him a slightly sympathetic look.

"Do they know you're here?" She questioned, and he paused, unsure of what to say.

"Yes? Probably. No." He answered before wincing at his stupidity. He couldn't tell her about the curse, she would run away even if he wasn't planning on taking her heart. He would've run away too.

She gave a small laugh. "What?"

"Well," He started, trying to think of something to save himself with. "I think they know I'm alive, but not that I'm like, in this certain place." He was pretty sure that he saved it, and it wasn't even really a lie.

"That makes sense." She said, turning back on her back, and he sighed quietly in relief. "My crew knows I'm in the ocean, just doesn't know whether I'm still above or under the water."

He hummed, and moved his legs back and forth in the water as a fairly comfortable silence fell between them. Ben didn't know any silence could be comfortable, let alone a silence with someone he'd just met.

He didn't really know where to go from there. He didn't want to rip anyone's heart out, especially not Jill's. He had only known her for a few minutes, but he knew he couldn't do it. He could barely handle just the thought of it.

The silence between them only lasted a moment more before Jill spoke up. "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know."

--

They talked on the rock for what must've been hours, slowly getting to know each other. Ben could've sworn that at each smile Jill gave him one of his tentacles disappeared, but it was probably just him focusing on her rather the uncomfortable-ness of them.

When enough time for the sun to start to rise again had passed, Jill yawned from across from him before giving him a small and sad smile.

"I think… I think I have to go." She said, and Ben felt his heart drop. "I can't stay on this rock forever, but…" She trailed off, looking at him hopefully. "Would it be too crazy if I asked you to come with me?"

He couldn't hold back his grin, despite the fact that he already knew his answer would be something that would disappoint her. The fact that she asked at all made his heart flutter in his chest. "I… I can't." He said, shaking his head.

She looked sad, but nodded. "Okay."

He closed his eyes, but instead of seeing her climbing back into her boat like he had expected when he opened them again, she was right in front of his face and moving forward, kissing him on his cheek quickly and lightly.

She pulled back, and Ben stared at her in surprise, the tips of his ears flushing slightly.

In the face of his silent reaction, she shifted awkwardly. "I hope that was okay, because I figured that's where this was going-?'

"Yeah! No, yeah, it was fine. It was great." Ben said, effectively cutting her off and embarrassing himself.

She laughed a little before actually climbing into her boat, pushing it off of the rock, and giving him a small wave while she started to drift off.

He waved back, trying not to feel too sad as he watched her disappear into the horizon.

When she had completely left his vision, he sighed, head tilting down.

Ben had, once again, screwed up another chance to get rid of his curse. If this was what would happen any time a pirate passed by, how could he ever even start to hope to look less monstrous?

He sighed again, jumping up completely onto the rock now that she was gone and looking up to the sky. It shined almost as bright as Jill's eyes had.

When he went to look back down to his lap to sulk some more, he fully expected to see several tentacles poking out of his stomach.

What he didn't expect to see, but what he did see, was a flat stomach, clear of any ugly sticky tentacles, and a blue mermaid tail where his legs once were.

Which was… weird. He didn't know what had changed, but he definitely did know that he hadn't ripped anyone's heart out.

Oh well. He would take what he could get.

--

And when Jill eventually found her crew again and they went back out on the seas, she couldn't help but try and search for a boy with dark hair hiding his body behind a rock.

#tua #the umbrella academy #ask #asks #malecacidd fic #em writes

[jmcfarlane]

DRONE3

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øس=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love”  and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche,  at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what  he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense,  my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless,  voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me  even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement,  and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting  relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life)  Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce.  Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash,  for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.)  my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature,  while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body  only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me,  from the beach into the city,  while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella,  drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I  stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and  the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery,  the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours,  in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead,  that lilliad inside your mind

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