Excuse me while I randomly dump my coral island thoughts. (Basically just Rafael thoughts because my damn ND brain has a new hyper fixation and I'm drowning)

-He 100% makes onyx wedding rings.

-he does like beer.

- pauses the horror movies so he can talk about all the trivia he knows. One of the rare times he talks alot.

- though he hates salads he does like grilled veggies.

-makes a mean steak. All men think they're a grill master but he actually is when it comes to steak and fish.

-(this one is NSFW ish) SO MUCH tension builds before he asks you out on the first date that a little peck during a horror movie marathon escalates into really really good sex. and then it's discovered that physical touch is his love language.

My OCs In My Friends’ AUs

This was part of my presentation for a presentation night that @askthechronoverse, @masterjacobofficialblog and @unikittybeforethereign had in a Discord server. I’d been waiting to show them these for so long.

Imogen, in the Chronoverse, would be from the island of Alexythemia, since that’s where Charm Valley would be if it were in that AU according to Fabri. They also came up with the design for Chrono!Imogen. In Master Jacob, even though that AU is a next-gen AU, I think Imogen would still be a teenager. She’s still learning and growing, so she has this witchy student style. The blueprint for my OCs in Master Jacob are these anthro designs I drew a while ago. Imogen doesn’t have a Before The Reign design yet because StayCute is still thinking about what Master Frown and characters like him look like in that AU.

Germafrost in the Chronoverse and in Master Jacob were based on the ways Fabri and Mamækin draw Unikitty and Puppycorn, since I’ve always thought that lots of dogs and cats in their world look like them. In the Chronoverse, Ice Cream Land would be way up in the North Pole region of Meraki. On MJ!Germafrost’s sleeves, there are the patterns of the three flavors (strawberry, vanilla and chocolate). In Before The Reign, he’s a long-haired German shepherd who looks like a puppy because he’s canonically babyfaced. I think I might’ve put his icicle horn too high on his head.

Piano’s Chronoverse design is based on Fabri’s Valentine for me. Her dress is patterned like wedding cakes because she’s partly a wedding cake-flavored ice cream creature. In Master Jacob, she wears a stylish winter coat I found on the web, but with lots of extra sparkles and crocuses because she wouldn’t just wear it like it is. For Before The Reign!Piano, I had trouble deciding what species of sheep she was. I found this white, long-wooled type of sheep called Heath sheep, which have horns like her dad does. Her wool looks creamy because, again, it’s ice cream. StayCute said that BTR!Dr. Fox is still bipedal and still wears a lab coat, so Piano would also stand on two legs and wear her usual attire.

Fabri said that the Marevian merpeople in the Chronoverse would live in the Commuovere Sea and have a candy/ice cream theming. Chrono!Waterlily has satellite wafers for her bell, cotton candy and dragon’s beard candy to represent her light, dreamy nature, and candied lotus seeds for her jewelry. Master Jacob!Waterlily is wearing a dress with motifs of her namesake flower. As for Before the Reign!Waterlily… I tried. She’s a combination of a moon jelly and a sea nettle, but she looks more humanoid because she’s a mermaid. Apparently, those clover-shaped marks in moon jellies are supposed to be where their mouths (and also their butts) are, so I moved that down to where Lily’s mouth is.

Chronoverse!Spike’s candy themes are black licorice and honey. I did the licorice motifs for his spines and legs, and honey motifs for his torso. (He’s also wearing a honey yellow headband.) I picked honey because it has a sunny yellow glow and because it’s supposed to be good for your throat. I tried to imagine how Mamækin would draw his spines in Master Jacob. In any anthro version of Spike, I’ve always imagined that he has a bunch of rings and long black sea urchin-y fingernails. Before the Reign!Spike is a combo of a Caribbean reef octopus (because he was born in a coral reef) and a black sea urchin. But, again, he’s more humanoid because he’s a merman.

Botania in the Chronoverse is hidden within the enchanted Matutolypea Forest and extends out into the desert. Fabri said that if they were running things, they would take influence from Lego Elves for the fairies. So, for Chrono!Allegra, I combined a trapeze artist’s outfit with motifs of Aira, the wind elf. I feel as though Fabri would make her hairstyle look more like the hair hang. The fairies’ size doesn’t change in any of the universes, so they’re still really small. Before the Reign!Allegra has this looping braid. She’s supposed to be a clouded yellow butterfly, so I tried to replicate their wing pattern. I actually found this image showing what females’ wing patterns look like. Just like with the merpeople, she looks more humanoid being a fairy.

Chrono!Zora’s outfit is influenced by Azari, the fire elf, because he travels around drier areas and is comforted by fire. In Master Jacob, Zora has that same adventurer/desert garb look I gave him in his anthro because it suits him to a T. He’s supposed to be a dragontail butterfly, and it was pretty tricky for me to get his wings right for his Before the Reign design. He also looks more humanoid, being a fairy and all. His braid goes over the top of his head and falls behind his wings in the back.

Just a heads up that there are guest muses available here that might make an appearance sometimes:

Floyd - Self-explanatory. I will be sticking as close as I can to canon.

Antonio Leech - Jade's father. He wouldn't call himself a mafia, but an industrialist. Runs an organization in the Coral Sea, whose name is a secret. Neither Jade nor Floyd would reveal its name, and Azul knows better than to ask. Antonio is slightly obsessed with Jade, believing Jade to be The One™️ who is meant to be his successor. If given the chance to pick between Jade and Floyd, Antonio would have sacrificed Floyd without a second though. Though he would have sacrificed them both for Juliet.

Juliet Leech - Antonio's wife and Jade's mother. She comes from a branch of royalty and is distantly related to the royal family. Juliet's mother frequently held banquets for her and her sisters in order to find them potential suitors. Juliet eventually caught the interest of Antonio, who kidnapped her and made her his wife by charming her. At some point, Juliet breaks out of the charm and comes to herself sometime after Jade and Floyd's birth. She learns to love Antonio without the effects of magic and also her sons.

Leech - Jade and Antonio's ancestor and the first known member of the Leech family. Leech is a mereel from three thousand years ago and does not have a pleasant reputation in the Coral Sea. During Antonio's reign, he managed to iron out whistle-blowers and rumour mongers and so people seldom whispered about them years ago. All heirs of the Leech family possess a ring that was originally passed down from Leech. Currently, Antonio is in possession of the ring. And the ring is [redacted].

Naiara - Jade's grandmother. It would be interesting to note that she is, once, a human. A mute baby girl was washed up to the shore of an island where a tribe resided. To reasons even she didn't know herself, the tribe worshipped her as a goddess from the sea. At some point, when she was around 19, a flood hit the village and caused many of them to drown, they avenged themselves by tying her feet to a rock and tossing her into the river, not before their shaman placed a curse on her. She can't die, so she is left to her own devices at the bottom of the ocean until 30 years later she is rescued by a merman whom she eventually married. The curse still lives, Naiara not having aged a day since, though she is now a mermaid via a bargain with a sea witch. She lives in her own side of the house, away from Antonio, Juliet, Jade, and Floyd and seldom leaves her room, although Antonio has stated that his mother had always been like that since his father passed away.

A Pearl Worth Ten Million

Mod Blue: It's taken me a while to blog about this chapter, but I do intend to blog about it, because this is an Important Chapter. Upon re-reading it, it may have become my third favorite chapter in the book (first is "The Coral Realm," second is... you'll see).

-“Rifles! What for? Don’t your mountaineers attack bears dagger in hand? And isn’t steel surer than lead? Here’s a sturdy blade. Slip it under your belt and let’s be off.”

Omg, I can just picture Aronnax's eyes going wide, and he starts to say something like "wait, are you sure about this?", but then the helmet goes over his head and everyone sets off and he's resigned to let go of his fears and follow them. I'd say "someone should draw this," but the more I say that, the more I think that someone should be me.

-I had no idea that crabs that eat coconuts were a thing, but I am very happy to now know that they ARE a thing.

-I wonder how that oyster feels about Nemo periodically coming by to open it up and check on his pearl. Also, how would Nemo determine when it's "done," so to speak? It would make a fine addition to his collection even at its current size. I feel like he's just showing off by this point.

-"...soon we reentered Our Element. I think I’ve now earned the right to dub it that." Yeah, yeah, Pierre, don't get a big head about it. (This is giving me some of the same vibes as the last line of the book, but I can't talk about that because SPOILERS...)

-Captain Nemo fighting the shark= YESSSSSS! Mentally I'm jumping up and down and squealing like a teenager whose crush has just asked them out. (And how lovingly Aronnax describes this incident, too... "I can see Captain Nemo’s bearing to this day..." He IS the teenager and Nemo is his crush.)

-Also, gotta hand it to Ned here for helping out- I hope he'll calm down now that he's finally managed to kill something.

-"How startled he must have felt, how frightened even, at seeing four huge, copper craniums leaning over him!" This is another image that MUST be drawn, as I can see it so clearly in my head.

-Aaaaaand there's the Important Moment from this chapter- Captain Nemo giving the diver his pearls. I wonder if he was prepared to run into someone and that's why he brought them along? Anyway, this shows that underneath it all... Nemo DOES still care about humanity, to an extent. He DOES have a heart and a conscience. (Back when I posted that earlier meta about Nemo, I was planning on writing an addendum discussing this moment, but I didn't want to mention it until the emails caught up to it, and now I don't remember what exactly I wanted to say. Anyway care to expound upon this moment and what it means for Nemo's character?)

-One final spoilery note (if you don't know Nemo's canonical backstory and want to be surprised, don't keep reading):

So, the last line of the chapter has a LOT of significance.

“That Indian, professor, lives in the land of the oppressed, and I am to this day, and will be until my last breath, a native of that same land!”

When I first read this line, having read The Mysterious Island which explains Nemo's backstory, I thought... did the translator intentionally implicitly reference Nemo's backstory with this line? Because anyone who's read that book can tell you that Nemo is, in fact, Indian. And as I recalled the story, Verne hadn't written Twenty Thousand Leagues with this backstory in mind. As I recalled it, Nemo had originally been written as Polish, but at the urging of his editor, he obscured all direct references to his background, and later wrote him as Indian in The Mysterious Island since a Polish character fighting against Russian oppression may have caused political controversy, apparently. This whole time I've been re-reading this book, I've been under the impression that Verne had not, at this point, determined Nemo's official background. But I was wrong- it looks like Nemo was only written as Polish in early drafts of the book, and despite keeping his background vague, he may have already settled on depicting Nemo as Indian by the time the book was published.

Now that I've read this chapter, I now see that Verne likely already had Nemo's Indian background in mind. This is how he wrote the line in French:

« Cet Indien, monsieur le professeur, c'est un habitant du pays des opprimés, et je suis encore, et, jusqu'à mon dernier souffle, je serai de ce pays-là ! »

And going off my VERY rudimentary French knowledge, it means something close to how Walter translated it:

"This Indian, professor, is an inhabitant of an oppressed country, and I am still, and, until my last breath, will be from that country!"

If anything, this almost makes it MORE explicit, with Nemo specifically saying he's from the same country. However... even though it appears Verne was dropping a huge hint with this line... This should not be taken as THE background reveal. That only occurs in The Mysterious Island. This line does not keep Aronnax from wondering about Nemo's background. It does not illuminate anything for him, except confirming that he has empathy for citizens of oppressed nations. There's no moment where he puts two and two together. Up until the end of the book, Nemo is still somewhat of a cipher, and while readers can probably figure it out, what's important is that Aronnax doesn't, and therefore it should not be assumed that he does.

TWST Renverse Guide

a guide compiling all new content i added to the canon lore of Twisted Wonderland, including new schools, new regions and more. more info may be added eventually.

NEW LOCATIONS + HCs ON PRE-EXISTING ONES:

Idyllic Tropics: inspired by Kumandra from Raya and the Last Dragon, the Idyllic Tropics is a vast land with enriching biomes. it is also home to many flora that makes studying botany and potionology ideal. the region is run by various clans. it is home to Linh Quyen and headmage Zero.

Cildra Isle: inspired by Never Land from Peter Pan, Cildra Isle is the second biggest home to the fairies, after Briar Valley. it is very diverse and quite magical, home to merfolk and fairies alike. not many have visited the island, but its history is known throughout the lands

Niloustan: inspired by India/The Jungle Book’s interpretation. ruled by the tiger beastman clan known as the Chahal clan, Niloustan is known for its water lotuses that dot the landscapes. Ishir Chahal is the crown prince, and he appears to have a (one-sided) rivalry with Leona… it is also home to Kanan Ravi, Ishir’s servant.

Eremopolis: a mysterious nation submerged beneath the waves of the Coral Sea, long forgotten even by Briar Valley’s most knowledgeable immortals. Eremopolis is inspired by Atlantis from Atlantis: The Lost Empire. its heir apparent is Xenia, and her people seem to be in trouble…

Far East: the Far East (my interpretation of it) is the nation where Zhen originally comes from. though it is quite large and prosperous, surrounding nations have been vying for its land and riches, and an attempt on the monarchy was made (and failed). as the Emperor died in battle, the crown passed to his wife, Empress Yiran Xuan. it is also home to Qianjin, Ailun and Lixin.

(currently unnamed land): inspired by the islands in which Moana is set (with a focus on Samoan islands), the archipelago is rich in scenery, culture and community. more TBA

NEW SCHOOLS:

Silver Mirror Arts Academy: an all-girls boarding school set in the Shaftlands, SMAA is an academy focusing primarily on the arts, but also incorporates general and magic studies too. the “arts” isn’t limited to visual arts like painting and drawing, but also includes dance, theatre, singing, and more. directed under the supervision of headmage Rose, an ex-actress who believed that magic and arts was the future. this is the school of Aria Lykaios, Célestine Lucien, and Dayita Shaan.

Azure Dragon Arcane Institute: set in the Idyllic Tropics, the ADAI is an is a co-ed magic school headed by headmage Zero. though it is a magic school, the facility focuses heavily on potionology and botany specifically. it is the most prestigious school in the Idyllic Tropics, with half of its students being from abroad. this is the school of Linh Quyen.

Dire Wolf Academy: set in the Shaftlands, the DWA is a co-ed, non-boarding school. it is a popular institute for those who are looking to become physical fighters, with classes focusing more on general studies and survival skills than magic. it is governed by the mysterious headmage Meera. it is the school of Iona Kagerō and Chrys Belov.

White Queen’s Practicum School: set in the Queendom of Roses, this co-ed, non-boarding school is one that focuses on general studies and field practices (thus the name practicum). it’s best suited for students who are looking for field work or apprenticeships upon graduation. its headmaster is named Anne, and it is the school of Basil Arledge.

Unleashing Your Inner Photographer in Playa del Carmen – A Luxury Experience

Capturing the Essence of Playa del Carmen Beaches Playa del Carmen is famous for its beautiful beaches, and they are a photographer's dream. Whether you want to capture the crystal clear waters, white sand, or palm trees swaying in the breeze, there is no shortage of photo opportunities. The most iconic beach is Playa del Carmen, which is located in the heart of the city. However, if you want to get away from the crowds, head to quieter spots like Xpu-Ha or Akumal. Architecture The architecture in Playa del Carmen is a mix of old and new. The historic center of the city has colorful buildings with Spanish colonial influence, while the newer parts of town have modern buildings with a sleek design. Take a walk down Fifth Avenue and capture the vibrant colors and unique textures of the buildings. If you're looking for something more historic, head to the Nuestra Señora del Carmen Church, which dates back to the 16th century. Nature Nature lovers will find plenty to photograph in Playa del Carmen. The region is home to several natural parks, including Xcaret, Xel-Ha, and Rio Secreto. These parks offer a variety of photo opportunities, from underwater caves to exotic animals and birds. You can also take a day trip to nearby Cozumel and photograph the island's pristine beaches and coral reefs. Cultural Festivals Playa del Carmen is a city that loves to celebrate, and there are numerous cultural festivals throughout the year. One of the most popular is the Day of the Dead festival, which takes place in November. During this time, the city is filled with colorful altars, parades, and traditional Mexican food. Other popular festivals include the Riviera Maya Jazz Festival, the Taste of Playa food festival, and the BPM electronic music festival. Sunsets The sunsets in Playa del Carmen are just as beautiful as the beaches themselves. Head to Mamitas Beach or Punta Esmeralda for the best views. The colorful sky, the calm sea, and the silhouettes of palm trees make for a breathtaking photograph. Don't forget to bring a tripod and experiment with long exposures to capture the movement of the waves. In conclusion, there is no shortage of photo opportunities in Playa del Carmen. From the beautiful beaches to the rich culture and history, the city offers something for every photographer. Whether you are a professional or an amateur, you will find plenty of inspiration in this tropical paradise. So grab your camera and unleash your inner photographer in Playa del Carmen! Luxury Photography Equipment and Techniques The Best Luxury Camera Gear When it comes to luxury photography, the equipment can make a big difference in the quality of your photos. Some of the best cameras on the market for luxury photographers include high-end DSLRs like the Canon EOS-1DXMarkII or Nikon D850, and mirrorless cameras such as the Sony A9. For lenses, consider investing in prime lenses for the best image quality and precision control. The Canon EF 85mm f/1.2L II USM or the Sony FE 85mm f/1.4 GM are excellent choices for portrait photography. For landscape and wide-angle shots, look at the Canon EF 16-35mm f/2.8L III USM or the Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8G ED. The Art of Luxury Lighting Luxury photography often requires elaborate lighting setups to capture the desired look and feel. To achieve a professional-grade lighting setup, invest in high-quality lighting fixtures such as the Profoto D2 or the Elinchrom ELB400. These can be used in conjunction with softboxes, diffusers, or reflectors to create the perfect lighting conditions for your shot. Additionally, it's important to master the art of lighting placement and to understand how to balance ambient and artificial light sources. Mastering Luxury Composition Composition is key in luxury photography. To create the perfect shot, you need to understand the principles of composition, such as the rule of thirds, leading lines, and framing. When it comes to luxury photography, try to keep the composition simple and elegant. A subtle tilt or unique angle can add a touch of luxury to an otherwise bland shot. It's also important to consider the background and foreground of your shot, including depth and focus, to create a sense of luxury and style. The Power of Post-Processing Post-processing is a crucial step in luxury photography. It can help to enhance the colors and lighting in your shot, as well as remove any unwanted elements. To achieve a professional-grade post-processing result, invest in software like Adobe Lightroom and Photoshop. The key is to use post-processing to subtly enhance the photo rather than over-editing and losing the natural beauty of the shot. Focus on enhancing the colors, contrast, and sharpness while keeping the photo looking natural. Luxury photography requires more than just a high-end camera. To truly unleash your inner photographer in Playa del Carmen, master the art of lighting, composition, and post-processing. Invest in quality camera gear and take the time to learn the principles of luxury photography. With the right techniques and equipment, you can capture stunning, high-end photographs that truly capture the beauty and luxury of Playa del Carmen. Planning the Shot To capture the perfect beachscape in Playa del Carmen, it's important to plan the shot ahead of time. Consider the time of day, weather conditions, and the direction of the sun. The golden hour, which is the hour before sunset or after sunrise, typically provides the best lighting for beach photography. Look for interesting foreground elements such as rocks, plants, or people to add depth and dimension to your shot. Composition Techniques When composing your shot, follow the rule of thirds by placing points of interest along the intersecting lines. Use leading lines to draw the viewer's eye through the image, such as a path leading to the ocean. Experiment with different angles and perspectives, such as shooting from a low or high angle, to add visual interest to your shot. Camera Settings To capture the beauty of the beach, set your camera to a low ISO to reduce noise and capture sharp details. Use a small aperture (high f-number) to ensure a wide depth of field, which will keep both the foreground and background in focus. Adjust the shutter speed to capture motion, such as waves crashing against the shore. Editing Tips During post-processing, adjust the exposure and contrast to enhance the colors of the ocean and sky. Increase the saturation and vibrance to make the image pop. Use the clone tool to remove any distracting elements in the foreground or background. Consider adding a graduated filter to balance the exposure between the sky and land. With these tips, you can create stunning beachscapes in Playa del Carmen that capture the beauty of the ocean, sand, and sky. Remember to plan ahead, experiment with composition, and adjust your camera settings to achieve the perfect shot. And don't forget to have fun and unleash your inner photographer! Mastering Portraiture in a Tropical Paradise Understanding the Importance of Lighting When it comes to portraiture, lighting can make or break the shot. In a tropical paradise like Playa del Carmen, there's no shortage of natural light. However, it's important to understand how to use that light to your advantage. Consider shooting during the "golden hour," which is the hour after sunrise or before sunset. This is when the light is most soft and flattering, casting a warm glow on your subject. Alternatively, experiment with using shadows to create depth and interest in your portraits. Posing Your Subject The way you pose your subject can have a big impact on the success of your portrait. Consider the mood you want to convey and use posing to help achieve it. For example, a more relaxed and natural pose can create a casual, beachy vibe, while a more formal pose can add an element of sophistication. Additionally, it's important to consider the composition of your shot - try positioning your subject off-center or experimenting with different angles to add interest. Using Props and Backgrounds Props and backgrounds can help add a unique element to your portraits. In Playa del Carmen, you have access to a variety of beautiful backdrops, from lush greenery to colorful architecture. Consider incorporating elements of the environment into your shots - for example, using a palm tree as a prop in a beach portrait. Keep in mind that less is often more - too many props can be distracting and take away from the subject. Working with Your Subject One of the most important aspects of portraiture is building a rapport with your subject. Encourage them to relax and have fun during the shoot, and provide direction when necessary. Consider giving them prompts or suggestions for poses or expressions, and be open to their ideas as well. Remember that your subject is a crucial part of the equation - the more comfortable and confident they feel, the better the final result will be. In conclusion, mastering portraiture in a tropical paradise like Playa del Carmen requires an understanding of lighting, posing, props/backgrounds, and working with your subject. With these tools, you can unleash your inner photographer and capture stunning portraits that showcase the beauty of both your subject and the environment. Finding Hidden Gems: Street Photography in Playa del Carmen While Playa del Carmen is a popular tourist destination, there are still plenty of hidden gems to discover, especially for street photographers. From capturing candid moments of locals going about their daily lives, to finding vibrant street art that decorates the walls of the city, there’s always something new and interesting to photograph. Exploring the Local Markets The markets in Playa del Carmen are a feast for the senses. The Mercado Municipal and the Mercado 28 are both great places to capture a slice of life in the city. Locals come here to buy fresh produce, meat, and fish, as well as traditional handicrafts. Be sure to ask for permission before taking someone’s photo and always respect their wishes if they decline. Finding Street Art Playa del Carmen has a thriving street art scene, with colorful murals and graffiti decorating the walls of buildings throughout the city. Some of the best places to find street art include the neighborhoods around Calle 2 and the area near the recently opened Frida Kahlo museum. Keep your eyes peeled for interesting murals, and don’t be afraid to ask locals about the stories behind them. Exploring Local Neighborhoods One of the best ways to discover hidden gems in Playa del Carmen is to explore the city’s local neighborhoods. Take a walk through the streets surrounding the Parque Fundadores or venture down the narrow streets of Colonia Hollywood. You never know what you might find, from colorful buildings and murals to bustling local shops and markets. Capturing Candid Moments Perhaps the most rewarding aspect of street photography is capturing candid moments of people going about their daily lives. Whether it’s a local vendor selling fruit on the side of the road or children playing soccer in a park, these moments offer a glimpse into the culture and spirit of a place. Always be respectful and ask for permission before taking someone’s photo, but don’t be afraid to engage with your subjects and learn more about their lives. By exploring the local markets, seeking out street art, exploring local neighborhoods, and capturing candid moments, you can unlock a world of hidden gems for your street photography in Playa del Carmen. Editing Your Photos Like a Pro Using Editing software Editing your photos like a pro requires the use of the right editing software. You can either use Adobe Photoshop or Lightroom to edit your photos. With these software, you can adjust the color, brightness, and contrast of your photos, crop the image, remove spots or blemishes, and add effects to make your photos look stunning. The Adobe Photoshop offers a more advanced editing technique, while the Lightroom is perfect for beginners. Adjusting the Light and Color Making adjustments to the light and color is one of the most important stages of editing your photo. You can adjust the brightness level of the photo using the Brightness and Contrast feature. You can also make color correction using the Color Balance tool, Hue and Saturation, and the Vibrance tools. Crop and Resize Cropping your photo can give it a whole new look. You can crop your photo to focus on a particular object within an image. You can also use the Resizing tool to resize your photo to the required size for display. Adding Filters Filters can add a special effect to your photo. There are several filters available in both Adobe Photoshop and Lightroom. You can add filters such as the Black and White filter, Vintage filter, and the HDR filter to your photo. Adding these filters can give your photo a unique look. Sharpening and Noise Reduction Sharpening your photo can make the edges of objects in the image more defined. On the other hand, Noise reduction is an important aspect of editing your photo. Noise Reduction makes your photo smoother and removes any pixelated image or noise. Editing your photo like a pro is an incredible skill that requires patience and dedication. With the right tools and software, you can create stunning photos that will wow your audience. So, take your time and master these techniques. Sharing Your Art with the World: Photography Exhibitions and More Once you’ve taken your stunning photos in Playa del Carmen, it’s time to share them with the world. Luckily, there are many ways to display your art, from traditional galleries to more unconventional avenues. Here are some options to consider: Photography Exhibitions Photography exhibitions are a classic way to showcase your art. Look for galleries or art spaces in your area that cater to photography exhibits. You can also check out photography festivals, which are held annually all over the world and offer a great opportunity to network with other photographers and artists. Online Galleries In the digital age, online galleries offer an easy and effective way to display your work. Websites like 500px, Flickr, and Instagram provide platforms for photographers to share their images with the world. You can also create your own website using platforms like Wix or Squarespace to showcase and sell your work. Social Media Social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram offer a way to reach a wider audience with your work. You can share your photos with your followers and use hashtags to attract new viewers. You can also connect with other photographers and creatives in your community to collaborate and gain inspiration. Prints and Products If you want to take your photography to the next level, consider printing your images on high-quality paper and creating unique products like calendars, postcards, and books. Online retailers like Blurb and Shutterfly offer printing services for photographers, and you can also sell your products on platforms like Etsy. Overall, there are many options for sharing your photography with the world. Whether you choose traditional exhibitions or more unconventional avenues, the key is to be consistent and persistent in your efforts to showcase your art. If you're looking to elevate your photography skills, consider renting the best equipment in Vancouver from Premier Equipment for Premier Photography. Read the full article

RWBY/DC

I’ll admit I really like the RWBY/DC crossover, but I had an idea to make them more, “canon” so to say...and adding them to Collective Remnants. So in the end, they’re half DC and half their own characters.

So I present to you, the Justice League of Remnant (Lore Pending): Few are actually official huntsman, I’m thinking of making them settlers or tied to the Equinox organization.

Superman-Cohen Himawari-Human

Name Meaning: Cohen-Derived from kohen, or priest in Hebrew. Himawari-Sunflower in Japanese.

Weapon: Unnamed, unadorned gauntlets

Semblance: Under a Yellow Sun: Aura is constantly charged by sunlight, including moonlight, enhancing his strength, durability, and releasing it all in one massive explosion. Very reactive with Dust.

A ‘Forgotten’ found by two Valean farmers.

Wonder Woman-Janna Barros-Kangaroo Faunus(Hands)

Name Meaning: Janna-Derived from Jannat, a Bengali/Urdu name meaning paradise or garden. Barros-A Portuguese name meaning clay, and often referring to those who work with clay.

Weapon: The Gifts: Three weapons given to her by her family

The Persuaders-Jian capable of shifting into a whip, belt & lasso.

The Defenders-Twin gauntlets infused with Gravity Dust and capable of shifting into shields.

The Crown-A bladed discus with Gravity Dust

Semblance: Peace-Creates a shockwave that disarms/stuns/knocks down anyone with hostile intent

Magic: Truth-Can force anyone subdued by her to tell the truth, but as a drawback becomes weaker when subdued herself

Born to the leader of a commune of warrior mystic women based upon the island of Starfall, she desires to see the world.

Batman-Renard Cartwright-Flying Fox(Bat) Faunus(Bat Ears)

Name Meaning: Renard-Derived from the french word for fox. Cartwright-Someone who works with carts.

Weapon: Batwing-Double sided battle axe whose head is capable of detaching and expanding to gliding wings. Bombs-Dust infused explosives capable of acting as tasers, smokebombs, freezing tablets etc.

Semblance: Echovision: Can gain an internal view of any object he makes contact with hard enough (Ex: he can gain an internal view of someone’s body by punching them). Very small scale

Magic: Rhythm of the City: Instinctual knowledge to any city he spends enough time and familiarizes himself with.

Son of a new money Valean Faunus family, who were murdered in his childhood. After being ejected from a preparatory Huntsman Academy, he know operates within the city as a private eye.

Flash-Jasper Sciell-Box Turtle Faunus(Shell on his back)

Name Meaning: Jasper-Several meanings, but I’m referring to a shade of red. Sciell-An old english word meaning shell

Weapon: Shellraiser-A shell patterned but otherwise simple shield.

Semblance: Speedforce-Field capable of altering a subjects relationship to time, inertia & velocity. Most notably used to give himself super speed or throw his shield with tremendous force.

Born to Faunus refugees of Mantle following the Fall of Atlas, Jasper grew up in Vacuo, developing a desire to help people, but not necessarily become a huntsman. Instead became a hooded vigilante known only as ‘the Flash’, protecting Vacuo’s central quarter.

Jesse Quick-Alanna Varpu-Squirrel Faunus(Tail)

Name Meaning: Alanna-Derived from Alan, possibly meaning little rock in Breton. Varpu-Finnish for a type of berry bush.

Weapon: Storm Knuckles: Two lightning dust infused gauntlets.

Semblance: Lightning Step: Can absorb electricity to increase her speed to superhuman levels.

Daughter of two huntsman who were killed in her childhood, Alanna was taken in by the Sciells, and viewed Jasper as an older brother. Unwilling to pursue the career that killed her parents, but still wanting to help, she joined Jasper as the ‘Kid Flash’.

Aquaman-Anaru Korallion-Shark Faunus(Gills)

Name Meaning: Anaru-As far as I can tell, a Maori derivative of Andrew, meaning “masculine”. Korallion-Greek word for Coral.

Weapon: Earthshaker: Dust infusible Quindent. Inherited from his mom.

Semblance: Ocean’s Call: The ability to command sea life and look through their eyes.

Son of a mixed human faunus couple in southern Mistral, Anaru was unfortunate enough to grow up in a conservative area, thus grew up relatively isolated save his parents, with only grew worse after his mother death on a mission. Now he wanders the world, seeking to find a place to  belong.

Jessica Cruz-Esmerelda Cesare-Human

Name Meaning: Esmerelda-Spanish for emerald. Cesare-Derived from Ceasar, referring to a shade of green in this case.

Weapon: Lantern-Highly advanced experimental mobile hologram generator gauntlets, with the ability to shoot high intensity Light Dust beams as defense. (Doesn’t create solid constructs)

Semblance: N/A

Magic: Emerald Sight-The ability to glimpse snippets of the possible future.

A young, brilliant, but agoraphobic and anxiety ridden researcher at the Argus Technological Consortium, who’s only goals in life are to finish refining this portable hologram project...and ignoring the freaky magical visions, thank you very much. But both her scientific mind and magical attributes have unknowingly aimed a target at her back...

Cyborg-Dunstan Fitzroy-Human

Name Meaning: Dunstan-Meaning dark stone. Fitzroy-“son of the king” in Anglo-Norman English 

Weapon: Sound system integrated into his cybernetic frame.

Semblance: Shout: Enhancement of any sound he emits, including his cybernetics. (unlocked in the same incident responsible for his injury)

Son of two of Argus’ (formerly Atlas) foremost cybernetics researchers, Dunstan would live a charmed until a simple day traveling with his mom to a relatively remote village. Upon the return to Argus however, they would be ambushed by Grimm, his mother and the Hunter accompanying them would die, and Dunstan would be mauled severely. Fortunately, his father was able to essentially rebuild his mangled body with cybernetics. Now he works with his father in the robotics field.

Green Arrow-Cypress Hill-Human (credit to @thepariahcontinuum for the name idea)

Name Meaning: Cypress-A coniferous tree. Hill-An elevated terrain.

Weapon: Hawkeye-Bow that fold into a knuckle duster, alongside several varieties of trick arrows.

Semblance: Straightshooter: Can make any object aerodynamic, allowing him to expand his arsenal to...bizarre extents.

Robyn Hill’s adopted son, hoping to live up to his mother and the rest of the Happy Huntresses. Outspoken and bullheaded, he is the only member of this motley crew that’s actually a formally trained Huntsman.

fusion au part 2: electric boogaloo (part 1 here)

featuring Man O' War and fusion origin stores (under the cut bc i get Wordy lmao)

Man O’ War -

Chip/Jay/Gill

They/Them

Surprisingly stable for a 3 person fusion

Bioluminescent (the tops of their coral/antler crown, the tops of their fingers, plus some designs on their wing/fin(???) membrane i have yet to make

VERY fast swimmer, the arm wings/fins help

real big, they cant be formed on the boat

unless they're formed bc of an emergency they'll just kinda sit and enjoy existing

they don't really talk (they're never in a situation where they really need to tbf) but if they did they’d have a funky voice overlap

their name is based off the portuguese man o' war (animal), which aren't one animal! it's a colony of multiple little animals and i feel it really fit for a fusion. also the man o war (ship) was probably the last thing you'd ever want to see (and ever would see) as a pirate

---

some fusion origin stories bc i got some words in my head i need to get out

Osprey

first formed before they met gill, probably the night before they left jay’s island

Jay snuck out at night to the beach to hang out with this random bastard that’s been hanging around the tavern bc he seems lonely and she feels weirdly drawn to him

Idk how it comes up, but chip tries and fails to mimic jay’s dance she does at the tavern, and she tries to correct him, dancing with him

They accidentally fuse and turn into Osprey, who’s very confused

They stand up on shaky legs and hobble over to the water to get a good look at themself, meanwhile internally jay is freaking out

They get a look at their face and audibly say “damn im fine as hell” before immediately unfusing

Jay freaks the fuck out and runs away, leaving chip in the sand with a lot more emotions that he’s used to dealing with

The next night, chip comes back to the tavern and before jay can tell him to fuck off he tells her he saw some of her memories about drey and that’s he’s looking for him as well, along with the rest of the blackrose pirates

They run off that night

I have an idea for how osprey meets gill but i don't have the Strength to write it out rn

Thresher

Post episode 16: chip/gill fought and made up, but things are a little shaky between them

Gillion approached jay one night and asks about fusion, since he saw chip/jay fuse a few weeks ago (scenario i haven't written out yet) and he was curious about it

I don't know if i want to make fusion a Surface thing or just an unspoken/taboo topic in the Undersea but gill doesn't know much about it for that reason

He says he’d ask chip but he’s still unsure if he can truly trust chip with cultural knowledge anymore

Jay internally sheeshes at that last part at tells him what she knows about fusion

Gillion asks if the two of them could fuse and jay says it’s unlikely (fusions are usually done between super close friends/lovers. Osprey is an outlier and should not be counted) but there’s no harm in trying

They dance

I imagine it’s kinda like medieval line dancing, all stiff and formal. Gill is taking it Super Seriously and jay’s trying not to laugh

Jay trips and gillion rushes to catch her, and they form Thresher

Cut to chip, who’s asleep but wakes up when a shadow looms over him and a clawed finger pokes his face, then he opens his eye and screams (think about him waking up to amanda) bc holy shit that’s a demon (they do be lookin kinda bad tho :fuckboy emoji:)

The hot demon doesn't move, and slowly chip feels like he recognizes it? Those fins look familiar and hey isn’t that jay’s pin- Oh Fuck that’s a fusion

He lets out a shaky “hi” and asks if they're a fusion. Thresher kinda tilts their head like a puppy then nods. He asks for their name and they let out a growly “Thresher” that does nothing to help his current state of fear (or arousal). He tells them to go on the deck and figure out more about themself, it’s not everyday you make a new fusion y’know. They nod and grumble something in a demon-sounding language (primordial but chip doesn't know that) and go back up deck

They unfuse later that day and ask chip what they thought of thresher. He says they were ok

Actual feelings: he was Afeared and Aroused and feeling Many emotions that he’s not ready to process just yet.

(Bastard) Moray

Ill be real im open to any/all ideas for moray’s origin story (and moray in general) bc i feel like i have the weakest grasp on his whole deal

Takes place during some fantasy arc that happens off-screen (yes im aware that the crew really haven't been together for long but i simply ignore canon sometimes)

They're raiding some island cave for treasure and good news: they found it and have it on them. Bad news: it triggered a trap and now they’re running for their lives from a cave-in

They’re about to make it out when jay rolls a 1 and trips just before the exit and gets covered in rubble (with one arm out for the Drama of it all)

Chip and gill freak out and try to dig her out with their bare hands with little success, and then freak out more

(WAIT A SECOND GALAXY BRAIN IDEA)

Chip gets an idea and grabs gill by the shoulders

Chip: fuse with me

Gill: what???

Then chip fuckin dips him back and kisses the fuck out of him

Both get nat 20’s (obviously) and fuse into Moray

Moray spends the first few moments of his existence excited bc wow!!!!! He’s alive!!!! but then realizes Oh Shit, Friend is Trapped

With terrifying strength he lifts the rubble with two arms and extracts jay with the other two. She’s bruised and unconscious, but breathing so Moray takes that as a win and heads back to the ship.

A few hours later jay wakes up and goes onto the deck to see Moray doing whatever the fuck moray would do and gets super confused

Moray sees jay and goes !!!!!!! :D and runs over and picks her up bc friend ok !!!!

jay's fuckin dying bc on one hand she's happy the two of them fused but on the other hand oh god he's a handful (and he's holding her up with one hand what the fuck)

the two of them spend the rest of the day figuring out what moray can do (stuff i havent thought out yet lmao)

More coral island thoughts. Assuming they celebrate Christmas.

-Rafael's toxic trait is he wants the BIGGEST Christmas tree.

-Eva's toxic trait is she doesn't know when to stop baking Christmas treats and Starlet town is overrun with treats.

-Ling's toxic trait is she wants knitted stockings to be so perfect she never finishes one because it's not good enough for her standards.

-Randy's toxic trait is he likes fruitcake.

-Pablo's toxic trait is whining about being cold but refusing to dress warmer.

-Yuri has Christmas themed scrubs.

-Charles has deer antlers he likes to wear. (I think of the meme "no I shan't it's Christmas")

- Scott's toxic trait is he wears scarves for fashion but not for warmth.

Never Done

EUGENE SLEDGE  X   READER

Preface: My first Pacific thing! More notes at the end.

Summary: There is a bomb and then they say there is peace. You do not feel it. 

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Canon-typical profanity. Depictions of major character death (kinda).

Taglist: @keoghans​​ @papercinders​​ @junojelli​​ @notmykirk (ask to be added; please notify me if you prefer to be taken off the x reader taglist)

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He repeats it, but you don’t react as he expects you to. All the other men positively erupt, but you can’t do anything except clench your teeth, rock back and forth, and try to quell the stinging of the tears that are springing up unbidden in your eyes.

You feel a tear slide down your cheek, and you swipe it away roughly. They are tears of shock – the type that spring forth when artillery is so bright the night flashes a phosphorus white and your retinas feel positively sandblasted.

It can’t be done. It can’t be over. Of course it isn’t over – these Japanese are gonna fight until the very last man. The very last woman. The last child, in the street, you suppose, if it comes down to it. Victory means the eradication of every single one of those goddamn Orientals, and you intend to finish the job.

Instead of dropping your rifle, your grip tightens around the barrel, and you are momentarily steadied by the solid metal and wood of the thing – this weapon, this machine, that has followed you throughout your entire godforsaken three-year stint in the mud and mosquitoes. Wading through the corpses and the bloody waters – thickened with suffocating rot and guts spilling out and shells scattering deadly and bright overhead with a noise that could deafen.

It’s not over; of course it’s not. As long as there are still people on that island, the war is not over.

You grip the rifle tight, and you can’t say anything, except you absently hear this kind of keening animal-ish noise, until there’s a hand on your back and a voice telling you to calm down. The hand moves in slow circle and the unpleasant sound stops, and you close your own mouth, and there are sobs ripping from your chest and you are shaking your head no in disbelief.

You are shaking so badly that you can see the tremors in your own hands even though they’re tight around the gun.

“Easy,” says a gentle voice.

You do not give in to whatever is easy, but you do recognize that someone is trying to calm you down. It’s a bit like stroking a dog, whenever someone from the company tried it before, and then after Peleliu it eventually evolved into a “shut up” and ultimately hands closing around your throat if a dream turns out too loud.

This one is not a stranglehold. It comes to rest very lightly on your shoulder. You are crying in earnest now, and the surrounding universe fades away until all you can feel is the disbelief. And then the injustice. The countless bodies littering the shore after every beachhead invasion; the bodies forgotten facedown in the endless jungles; the mutilated, tortured corpses left behind by the Japanese; the ones who are missing a leg or an arm or a couple of fingers; the ones with no more sanity left to spend in the civilian world. The ones with soul torn out of their bodies too soon, bullets puncturing flesh and releasing sprays of lifeblood. And just like that, they bleed out and pile on top of the others, dying in dust.

Returning to the earth, just as Adam was raised from it.

You wish you could dig all of them up with your hands, grasp their souls and drag them back to solid ground with sheer willpower, clutch their faces between your palms and tell them it’s over, and it almost occurs to you to crouch down and start scratching at the ground before you are yanked back to reality.

Were they all for naught? For the Japanese to just surrender? It was that easy. Just issue an announcement.

Too soon and too rough.

“What’s after this, huh?”

You don’t answer. Burgie won’t mind. His boots – all you can see of him – retreat a few moments later when your mouth opens in a silent, agonized scream and another sob rips forth. You fold yourself over your rifle where you are sitting on the ground, and you crumple inwards, holding your head between your hands.

Sledge keeps rubbing you on the back until you relax halfway. And then he sits back, languidly packs the pipe with that routine normalcy, and smokes it. You appreciate the presence. It’s comforting. And he doesn’t ask anything or say anything – he just sits.

Maybe, you think, as you regard him secretly when he’s looking out over the water, he is considering what he’s going to do when he gets home.

Maybe, like you, he just doesn’t want to face it. You have no idea. He’s different like everyone else, including you. Two years ago, you might’ve been overcome with joy.

Now, sudden changes make you grim. No matter if it’s moving out to retake an airfield or a declaration of the surrender of the Empire of Japan.

–

You are correct. It is not over. In fact, it’s far from over, you realize, standing an entire year later in the back of a transport vehicle as it roars and revs through the Chinese country. You sit back down, jam the rifle between your legs, and try to get some sleep. It doesn’t come, though, no matter how hard you try.

It’s the trouble with sleep. It doesn’t come when called. Instead, it becomes increasingly evasive.

Sleep becomes an elusive figure in the night, and a spectre burning off with the morning overcast in the day. You can only get some if your body has to beg for it, and so you work yourself to the bone with pointless tasks while all the other Marines kick back and mess around in the city.

Sledge looks at you from his seat beside you, and his elbow brushes against your arm every time the truck hits a rut. It’s almost like looking at an entirely different person from the one you met at the beginning of the war. He doesn’t smile now. When he laughs, it’s harsh and sardonic. It’s a little like you, but it was just more dramatic seeing him change. He’d been an optimistic one once. But like everyone else, he’d gotten his insides chewed up and spat out. He was absent at times.

He is absent now, and it’s not a bad thing, necessarily, to be absent in the peace of Chinese occupation. His eyes are closed and his shirt is flapping in the breeze – instead of being soaked through with sweat and jungle moisture, clinging to his frame. He needs a haircut, you think, as his strands flutter almost delicately off his forehead.

Absence is comforting. You can feel the world gearing back up again – the world-ending possibility of bombs, the liquidity of the international borders, the cold reaching hands of the hard vengeful nation up north. It’s nice to retreat inwards. Forget your duty as a part of the war machine. You signed up for it, after all. Detachment permits you to momentarily separate from the accumulated, crushing thing that is much more than guilt.

Sledge cracks an eye open, squinting into the bright sun, which is a white-hot disk behind heavy fog. He catches you staring, and raises an eyebrow. You’re comfortable enough with him to just shrug and say nothing more, and he leans back against the bar. His head is bouncing slightly off the metal, and it looks far from comfortable, but at least it’s almost like peace.

–

You’ve cleaned your rifle already that day, but your fingers are itching to be occupied again, and you bring out the cleaning supplies and the rifle, nudging snaps apart and prying locks apart. There are worn calluses on the sides of your fingers that have grown there over time. You distantly remember basic training, when you were told your rifle was your life. It ain’t a gun. It’s a rifle, the sergeant had said. You sleep with it, train with it, fight with it.

It has done you well over the three years. You had clutched it to your chest under your soaked poncho, vainly trying to keep it dry as artillery exploded around you in miserable, mud-filled foxholes. You had run with it, crawled through the gritty sand with it under tank fire, scooping dust into the air and down your shirt, leaving a trail of blood that had spattered onto you from someone close by under threat from Japanese bunkers waiting up the hill. It had come with you all the way from the motherland and it was with you on the ships, in the waters, on the islands, in the jungles, and now in the east Asian lands.

China’s foreign, to say the least. Everyone looks different. You are suddenly the foreigner, barraged with foreign sights and sounds and smells whenever you go off-base. You tire of it, eventually, but some of the other men go after the opium, girls, and questionable food. You stay inside, and sometimes – too often – there are empty moments alone in the barracks when you stare out the window, wondering when the pain will bleed away.

In the battlefield, it’s unsafe to have loud and boisterous nightmares. So no one had them. They were suppressed by pure instinct or something deeper. Ingrained fear, you would like to say, but it’s not like the fear ebbs away when the sound of gunshots recedes. You are still fearful. It’s a different kind of fear. A strange one. It smells of the open air and the crashing sea – the sickening, swelling, desert of a sea – and of the infinite blue sky vaulting into the beyond. Cloudless and suffocating in its volume, grandiose and terrifying in its broad might.

But the loud nightmares commence, because the vice-grip of fiery fear has faded away. Arguably, this new void-mouth of time’s progression and the future of the unknown is even worse.

You are back again, standing on the precipice of one of those coral cliffs in Okinawa. The black ones, rough and abrupt; there is nothing and then everything all at once – the shells and the rifle fire and suddenly there are intermittent flashes of light every time they send up another illumination flare, the shadows spreading and turning with each spark of a sensory flood.

There’s a growing presence in the swimming, churning mixture of hypnotic black and white as darkness folds and bright light ignites and dies in the lifespan of a second or three. Time stutters and flies and then turns around on itself. You are back again.

You are back again in the fields of heat and rapturous metal and death. And you are crumpled into a ball behind a jut of coral.

The firefight is deafening, you realize, as you become rooted in the memory. A man from your platoon beside you catches a bullet straight in the helmet, and with a dull metallic ping, he jerks back violently by the neck and then his entire body falls back heavily into the deep, sucking mud with a tremendous splash, without a word or a groan. The only reason you’re sure he’s dead is because of the red spray that almost aerosolizes from the hole in his head as he is hit – a little like a perfume spray, you observe, as you watch him die silently and quickly in the mixture of rainy black silt in a scene that is a dime-a dozen. A few bubbles come up from where his head is submerged, and then nothing. You have more pressing things to be concerned with.

It’s not really clear who the man was, but the replacements cycle so frequently and men are replaced so often that it’s not really a priority to know, and you crunch into a smaller ball around the cold firmness of your rifle – your friend, your wife, your salvation.

When it’s all over, you have a strange urgency grow in the back of your mind. There are still ricocheting bullets in the distance in another part of the battlefield – there is artillery booming and the sound of rocks hitting the ground, and machine-gun fire. But this small section of the area is clear for at least one or two breaths of air, and the luxury of thought and emotion slams back into your body from where it had dissociated during battle, hovering somewhere out of reach in the sky. It’s a soldier’s best friend and their worst enemy. You become suddenly conscious of the body lying in the caking muck.

Their head is buried deep in the brackish soup. It feels almost like confirming reality to check the tags, like somehow knowing the identity of whoever used to reside in this body would make their death official. It’s acknowledgement from the living, you think, as you bend down, reaching under the sodden folds of dungarees to fish around for the tags against the body’s cold, foul chest. If acknowledgement of the living is required to release a soul, you think, maybe there is some reason to slink off and die alone like a wolf.

You catch them between your shaking fingers, and you manage to grip them in your palms, yanking the tags and their chain out from below the dungarees. You blink, trying to force your eyes to readjust to reading the minutiae of the engravings instead of taking in bare images for the purpose of reaction.

You grip the tags in your hand, pulling harder to bring them into the watery marine-fogged light of dawn, the chain probably cutting into the neck of whoever it was hard enough to cause discomfort if they were still alive.

You blink several more times. The tag reads Eugene B. Sledge.

You yank harder on the chain, squinting at the tags in irritation. Of course it wasn’t Sledge. He was one of the eternal living who never seemed liable to death. He wasn’t here at the start of the battle, was he? You didn’t remember him moving to get next to you.

“You’re gonna cut ‘is neck off,” mutters the guy next to you irritatedly, and he smacks your hand to make you let go of the tags. They fall with a jangle, and somehow the light metal tinkle spirals deep into your mind like a key in a lock, and the last dregs of your own self trickle back into place.

“Sledge?” you whisper, staring at the body. Its face is under the mud, so you fall to your knees and plunge your hands in to the wrists, taking hold of the body’s head and wrenching it out of the heaviness of the mire.

“Sledge?” you repeat, not comprehending. You forcefully swipe the grime away, like clearing dirt from a watch or blood from your eyes so you can see.

It’s him, alright, or what used to be him. By now he will be long gone, sailing off to the halls of Valhalla or the gates of hell – wherever they put soldiers, you guess. Wherever they get stored.

Sometimes you wonder if even God knows what to do with soldiers. You are all walking, talking, battered, miserable, and sinful contradictions.

If you were God, you’d give Sledge a place within the golden streets, or the pearly gates or whatever he believed in.

But you are not God, and all you can do is keep wiping water from his face and trembling and staring emptily at his open eyes, where there are bits of soil resting wrongly in them – and why isn’t he clearing them out? Why won’t he blink?

You are not God as sure as the Japanese ain’t human and as sure as Okinawa ain’t home. You’re just a soldier. And you have no control of the fate of the universe, even something so small as one tortured soul and one bullet lodged in a certain, singular brain. It is out of your hands, because you’re a soldier.

–

There is shaking and turmoil, and someone is trying to tear you away from behind.

No, you scream at no one in particular. There are other incoherent sounds coming from your throat, maybe they are words and you don’t really pay attention to that – but you do claw and scratch and fight your way back to the empty vessel wearing Sledge’s tags.

“No, no, no!” you shriek. “Come back!”

The body lies motionless, the sky is gray, and the rain starts up again. The hands around your waist get stronger, and you are being born away – the coral falls away and you are still clawing for the body because it’s him.

You awake fully in a sweating, writhing mess, and the body is there. You scream wildly, pushing him away and kicking at the sheets, and he looks at you with a look that somehow mixes the most extreme inexplicable extent of empathy and helplessness. His eyes are bright and open and very, very blue.

You are panting and shaking violently and you dart nervous eyes to check your surroundings, making sure you didn’t wake anyone. You are not sleeping below an open sky, and there are actual army cots in the room, and they are all empty. The ceiling is wildly and strangely foreign, even if you’ve been in China for a while now.

And he is there, very much alive.

“Sorry,” you choke out uncomprehendingly, wiping an exhausted arm over your damp face. Tears or sweat, you don’t know – maybe a mix. Probably a mix. Sudden shame comes over you as you look at him and realize you probably were bothering whatever attempt he had made at catching some sleep in this typically empty afternoon.

He shakes his head a few times.

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” he says quietly.

You are still trying to take in the vitality in his face because a moment before you had come to the conclusion that he was dead.

“I get ‘em too,” he says.

“I know,” you get out, and then swallow in reflexive regret. “I- I didn’t mean that you bother–”

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Best of us, you know.”

All you can do is nod a few times. He’s leaning over the sheets, you realize, in a position he hasn’t changed since you awoke and jerked away, and your eyes trace his arms until you see the deep scratches in his forearms. There is a small amount of blood beading up in some of the streaks.

You look down at your own hands. There is a hint of fresh red staining your nails, and your mouth opens in shock and more shame and regret.

He was trying to wake you up and you had hurt him. You feel his eyes tracing your own hands as he sees you realize what you’ve done.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Don’t hurt none.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, because there’s nothing more you can think to say. The shame is beginning to get suffocating, and you can’t look him in the eyes, and you stare at the scratches on his arms, looking like they were put there by an animal instead of a human. You’ve never clawed someone before. You’d always had your M-1 to do the hurting for you.

“I’ve felt worse.”

Something about that statement makes you feel suddenly like crying. Because it’s true. Both of you have weathered the worst of humankind. Whoever had coined the term battle angels didn’t know what they were talking about. You both were floating in a purgatory between learned savagery and a desperate impulse to try and shed the violence.

You haven’t shed it yet. You probably would never.

You heave with sobs. He moves his arms around you, and you lose sight of the scratches and are pulled close.

He is alive, and you are, too. It’s over, you realize, with a heavy weight of realization and grief and a guilty gush of relief.

It’s over and you and Gene are alive.

It may never be exactly done for you or for him. But in this moment, you can pretend that someday this hell will fade to a version where you have time occasionally to breathe.

Moments like this, where the only thing in the world is warmth and proximity.

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This work previously contained a shortened form of "Japanese" which was intended to communicate cultural (and era) immersion, but my views have now changed and I don't believe hateful speech or slurs has any place in my fics, especially when I never felt right writing them in the first place. As always, I am open to conversation on the subject :)

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Mer-Max: Lagomorph of the Sea (head canons/character charts)

The Lagoon:

-Max (the Mer-Morph)

In a coral reef not far off from the Lagoon and it's isles, lived a large family of sea-dwelling lagomorphs. The youngest and smallest one among them was Max. One night a severe tropical storm hits the area. Separating Max from his family and stranding him alone on one of the islands beaches. He is soon discovered by the Lagoon's Enchantress Sybil; barely clinging to life. Using her magic, Sybil is able to save him by plucking a stone from the sea and infusing it with his soul. This grants Max magic powers of his own. (Such as giving himself legs.) Though he can only use these abilities for short periods of time before exhausting him. Sybil takes him in and starts to rise him like a son. Teaching him the ways of the isles and a few magic spells. One task she will have him do is to sing to the islands. A song for the morning, another for the afternoon and one for the evening. As Max grows up around the Lagoon, Sybil often warns him not to stray too far away from the islands, from fear of dangerous outsiders lurking. Not that that has stopped Max from sneaking out every now and then.

One of Max's biggest problems is that he's bored. Living on an island paradise might seem nice at first, but when your someone like Max and who's had to grow up there his whole life, everything gets dull pretty fast. This often leads to Max getting himself into all sorts of trouble. From wrestling sharks, to blowing up cocoanuts, pulling pranks of the rat tripe and getting into fruit fights with the monkeys. It is little wonder why Sybil is often frustrated with him. Max hopes one day, he'll be able to leave these isles and see the world. But more importantly, Max longs for a friend as well. Someone who better gets him.

-Sybil (the Enchantress)

In the Lagoon of the main island, lives the mysterious water Enchantress Sybil. Who created the islands as a safe haven from the main lands. Knowing the cruelty and greed of man, she often warns the locals to stay clear of any ships coming by and alert her as soon as one is seen. Except for Max that his. After saving him, Sybil took the Mer-Morph in. Teaching him all there is to know about the island and the use of magic. Acting as a sort of Mother/Teacher figure to Max. Though at times she might as well have been raising a spoiled teenager, as Max is always getting himself into trouble.

Sam's Crew:

- Sam (captain)

Ever since he was a little puppy, Sam had always wanted to explore the world. Just like his Granny Ruth. During his childhood, Sam would often spend the summers with his Grandma while on her many voyages. But on one of these particular trips an event happened that would seal the deal on Sam's dream to become an explorer. On a foggy afternoon, young Sam came up from his Grandma's cabin to show her a wooded toy he made. She however is too busy steering to see it at the moment. So while Sam waits for her, he looks out at the sea. Through the mists Sam sees what appears an island off in the distance. Then something else catches his eye in the water. Causing him to get too close the edge and falls overboard. While Granny Ruth and the rest of the crew scramble to save him, Sam slowly begins to sink further into the depths. That is until something swam by and started to pull him back up to the surface. Sam couldn't make out exactly what it was that was holding on to him, but he could see it's distinct silhouette hovering over him. Finally he was rescued by the ship's crew and brought back into the captain's cabin. Sam desperately tried to tell his Granny of what he saw, but she only tucked him into bed warned about the dangers of the ocean. Sam ends up losing his wooden toy that day, replaced by a strip of seaweed. But since that day, Sam vowed he would find that island and who it was that saved him.

Now captain of the S.S Desoto-Row, Sam is following his dreams to see the world. But old habits die hard, as Sam still retains his childhood shyness. He often worries he isn't being effective enough as a Captain like his Grandmother and how the rest of the crew don't seem to take him that seriously. With the exception of his navigator The Geek and Dr. Momma Bosco to and extent. When he isn't running the ship, he often hides away in his cabin, writing logs, notes to his grandmother and more personal entries. One thing that's keeping Sam going however is his hidden quest to find the island he saw as a kid years ago. Little does know it, that day will be coming a lot sooner than he's expecting.

-The Geek (navigator/second shipmate)

Trusty navigator of the S.S Desoto-Row and the Captain's second shipmate. Why not the first? According to Sam, he's still looking for his first. Neither the less, The Geek often is the one helping Sam out with handling the crew, assisting with the ship logs, and navigating their way across the ocean. She is often seen just about everywhere around the ship.

-Momma Bosco (doctor)

Most renown doctor in her field and won't hesitate to let you know it. Momma Bosco is always working on new medicines. Sailors always flock over to see her in the vain hope to find excuses not to work. To which she sends them packing with no more than a pill and some clinical sarcasm. Only men on board she shows genuine respect for is the Captain and her son Bosco. She is usually seen under the decks by herself or with The Geek from time to time.

-Bosco (sailor)

Always the first to yell “Abandon Ship!” and runs for the life boats. Even if it's a slight breeze. He often goes on hour long tangents of ocean conspiracies. From man-eating sharks, giants whales, the Kraken, sea monsters and sirens. He's usually seen hiding behind the crates and barrels.

-Flint Paper (sailor)

Opposite to Bosco is Flint. If he's not passed out on the floor somewhere, then he's checking up on the canons and other weaponry. Awaiting the day he gets to “Bust some pirate booty.” Though sometimes after supper (and a few drinks) he'll join Mr. Featherly and Agent Superbowl for the crew's musical night hour.

-Mr. Featherly (sailor)

Often seen standing on barrels and is always complaining of just about everything. Though during nights, he'll entertain the other crew members just for the heck of it.

-Agent Superbowl (sailor)

Usually seen standing at the door of the Captain's cabin. Sometimes it takes Sam a few tries to convince him, he's actually the Captain.

-Old Man Stinky (cook)

The grouchy cook of the ship. Stinky spends most of his time in the kitchen rustling up the grub of questionable nutrition. He often likes it when the waves get rough as it increases the chances of sickness.

(Sam and Max)~Steve Purcell

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 10/11

Here’s another M rated chapter, and this time for a more enjoyable reason :) In addition to sexy times, there are a lot of revelations in this chapter. I can’t believe we are almost to the end! You all have been so supportive of this story, especially those of you who were fans of the original. Thank you for trusting me and sticking with this new version!

Thank you once again to the mods of the @captainswanbigbang for hosting the Captain Swan Rewrite a Thon. Also massive thanks to my betas @shippingtheswann and @optimisticgirl. I also owe a lot to all of my fellow writers in the discord chats for your conversations about creating my own version of Neverland and the other realms.

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 5k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Chapter Ten: No Lovelier Sight

Killian stands behind the wheel, the biting air here above the clouds cutting across his cheeks. Above him, the pegasus sail snaps in the breeze as they make their way to Neverland. Below him, Emma stands looking out at the blue sky and wispy clouds, her hair flying around her like an enchantress. Milah’s old skirts billow around her as well, the bottom hem only hitting the top of her boots. After all, their former owner was but seventeen when she died, and Emma is a woman of twenty-three.

He had sat upon the edge of his cot earlier after retrieving Milah’s things from her old trunk, Emma next to him, and told her more about the girl they had once belonged to as well as what she had meant to him. He doesn’t plan on hiding anything from Emma, especially not when she walked away from the only realm that has ever been her home.

Yet Emma had barely reacted to his story, simply staring straight ahead, her occasional nods the only sign that she was listening at all. She hasn’t spoken much at all since he told her about Henry.

“Starkey,” Killian calls, “can you take over?”

“Of course sir,” his first mate answers, handing the sextant over to Curly.

With the ship in capable hands, Killian moves to the lower deck and slowly approaches Emma. She turns to him, managing a trembling smile as she pushes her hair out of her eyes.

“The air is thin and cold at this altitude,” Killian says, “are you sure you don’t want my coat?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t feel it,” she tells him softly, “I don’t feel anything.”

He isn’t sure what comfort she needs from him, but he opens his arms for her. Emma comes willingly, pressing her face to his collarbone and grasping him tightly about the waist. She shudders, and he wraps his arms around her.

“You’ve had a lot to process in a very short amount of time,” he tells her soothingly as he rubs her back gently. “First your attack, and then the news about your son . . . “

“I just don’t understand,” Emma mumbles against his chest. “He was a newborn baby. A woman was adopting him. A woman with a nice home in a nice little town.”

“I don’t know, love,” Killian sighs, wishing he could help her more. “Tink said that giving him up wasn’t easy for John Darling. He had him for two years before he brought him to Neverland. I think he got a bit attached.”

“But he didn’t love him,” Emma says bitterly, stepping out of Killian’s embrace and swiping angrily at the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Not enough, anyway.”

Killian can only nod, for he fully agrees. There’s really nothing more he can say. Emma reaches for his hand, and he takes it, lacing their fingers together. She pulls him near as she turns back to look at the clouds as they roll by. She pulls his arms around her waist and leans her back against his chest. Her hair smells like vanilla and cinnamon. Her hand slides down his left arm to grasp his hook, and he can hardly breathe past the lump in his throat.

“He’s five years old now, Killian. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to grow up like me.”

“There’s one difference between your childhood and his, though. His mother is on her way to rescue him.”

Emma turns in his embrace, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me? What if he hates me?”

Killian catches the tear with the pad of his thumb, then caresses the dimple in her chin. “I don’t see how anyone can hate you, my love. And children are infinitely forgiving. Think back to when you were five, Emma.”

She gives him a tremulous smile even as her eyes flood with more tears. He lets his forehead drop to hers, though he won’t initiate a kiss. That will be on her timetable, not his.

“My love,” she whispers, “I like the sound of that.”

She turns her head into his shoulder and wraps her arms around his neck as he holds her tighter.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. That’s all I want for you.”

“What I want is my son. To love him and have him love me back. Is that selfish?”

Killian buries his fingers in her hair. “Not at all. I believe that’s called a mother’s heart.”

*****************************************

“It’s beautiful,” Emma breathes as soon as the Jolly Roger settles upon the waves after her magical flight. Killian comes to stand at Emma’s side, taking in the sight of Neverland on the horizon with fresh eyes. Dead Man’s Peak is no longer a hulk of jagged rock, but a verdant mountain. Skull Rock has mostly crumbled into the sea, leaving behind a shimmering coral reef. The ribbon of Rainbow Falls can even be seen cascading down into the valley.

“It wasn’t always,” Killian sighs, “but you’re right, it’s gorgeous now.”

Emma grins as she leans farther over the railing of the ship, and Killian’s heart is warmed to see it upon her face. She awoke this morning in a cold sweat, thrashing against an unseen foe. When she finally calmed in the circle of his arms, she explained the nightmare. She was back in that crumbling house, being attacked by those men, only her lad was there too. She was reliving her trauma, that Killian knew all too well, but he also guessed that her fears about meeting her son were also wrapped up in her nightmares.

“Mermaids!” she exclaims, pointing.

Killian leans over with her, and sure enough, a school of mermaids are leaping through the water alongside the ship. Frankly, he feels they’re showing off with their over-the-top acrobatics.

“They’re so colorful,” Emma observes.

“Aye,” Killian says, slipping his arm around Emma’s shoulder, “they’re happy to have their lagoon back. Soon the island will be teeming with the mystical creatures that used to live here so long ago.”

Emma shakes her head. “I still can’t believe Peter Pan was evil in real life.” Then she frowns. “And I’m a little pissed that I don’t get to kill him myself for what he did to my son.”

Killian holds back a chuckle, for he knows her anger is real. It makes his blood boil as well. Yet he loves this bold and brilliant woman, and admires her avenging spirit probably more than he should. He brushes a kiss to her temple.

“I would bring him back if I could, just so I could see you unleash your wrath on him. The gods know he deserves it.”

Emma wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his chest. “Thank you for saving Henry.”

“You’ve said that far too many times already, Swan.”

“Well, you’ll just have to hear me say it again.”

Hook and his crew sail the Jolly Roger into Pirate’s Cove as they always have, but even his men are struck silent at how the island has changed. Bright flowers bloom, and the songs of tropical birds fill the air. The remnants of Rainbow Falls trickles over the rocks of the bluffs ahead in a soothing rhythm.

Killian leaves his men with the ship and guides Emma through the thick trees, following the river that cuts through the island. Tink and Tiger Lily told him that no more dreamshade grows here. Every time a pixie dust tree blooms with new life, every dreamshade plant in its vicinity shrivels up and dies. Killian is glad he no longer has to fear the evil plant.

Emma is quiet as they walk along the path to the home of the fairies. He senses her nerves, and gives her hand a comforting squeeze. The smile she gives him is forced, but she squeezes back.

Tiger Lily and Tinkerbell no longer have reason to hide their domicile, so the cave is now open to the sunshine, and smoke rises cheerily from the chimney.

“This looks cozy,” Emma says, biting her lip.

“Aye, though the smoke there is just for show. Tink has this idea that every home needs a fire going, even when it’s bloody 99 degrees outside.”

Emma manages a nervous laugh and follows him down the short passageway to the main part of the house. Killian taps his hook in the open doorway to alert those inside to their presence.

Tiger Lily, unsurprisingly, isn’t home. Tink is at the sink doing dishes, but gasps and drops a bowl into the sudsy water when she sees her guests. Her hands fly to her mouth as she dashes across the room.

“You’re . . . you’re Henry’s mother!”

Emma gives Killian a surprised look, and he shakes his head in confusion.

“How in the world do you know that, Tink?”

“Oh Hook, really? I’m a fairy, I know these things.”

“She’s been impossible since she got her wings back,” Killian tells Emma.

Said wings flutter in indignation as Tink glares at him. “And you, Hook, have no manners. You haven’t even introduced me to our guest.”

“I didn’t have a chance the way you’ve been blubbering on.”

“I’m Emma,” Swan interrupts, giving Killian a pointed look, “and yes, I’m Henry’s mother.” She glances around the room, worrying once again at her bottom lip. “Where is he?”

“He’s napping,” Tink says, “but we could tiptoe in there if you like.”

“Should I?” Emma asks nervously. “I mean, I don’t want to scare him.”

Tink waves her hand. “He sleeps like a rock, believe me. Such a pleasant, sweet child, really.”

Emma’s cheeks pink and her hands twist nervously as she follows Tink down the short hallway. The fairy opens the door slowly to reveal a darkened room with twinkling lights strung from the ceiling. In one corner is a twin sleigh bed, and snuggled under the soft blankets is a little boy with chestnut hair. Emma’s trembling hand flies to her lips as she tiptoes closer. His cheeks are plump, his ears stick out from his head in an adorable way, and Emma can’t help noticing that he has Neal’s nose. She glances behind her and sees that Killian and Tink have slipped away to give her privacy.

Emma sinks to her knees beside the bed, her hand hovering over the child’s head. A half sob chokes in her throat as she gently strokes her little boy’s soft hair. He shifts in his sleep, clutching the teddy bear at his chest a bit tighter, and Emma quickly pulls her hand back. He rolls over, flinging one arm out, and that’s when Emma sees it: the buttercup birthmark that matches hers. The one she hasn’t seen since the day he was born. There’s no mistaking it, this is her son.

She rises from the floor and tiptoes back out of the room and down the hall. When she sees Killian, he gives her a concerned look, and she flies to him. He lets out a puff of breath when she collides with his chest, but he instinctively holds her tight.

“He’s beautiful,” she chokes out.

******************************

“John Darling adopted Henry when he was three years old. Apparently, he had terrible colic as an infant and severe night terrors after that, so he had been difficult for children’s services to place.”

Tink’s words seem to have little effect on Emma. Killian watches her with concern. The cup of tea in her hands is surely cold by now, and Emma hasn’t lifted it to her lips once since Tink gave it to her. She stares into the flames of the enchanted fire and idly pushes Wendy’s old rocking chair back and forth with her foot. Tink catches Killian’s gaze in concern, but he gives her a barely perceptible shake of his head. If Emma wants to engage, she can, but he won’t force her.

Tink clears her throat and leans towards Emma. “I believe Henry’s difficulties - the colic and the night terrors - has to do with him being a child of two realms.”

That catches Emma’s attention, and her gaze snaps quickly to Tink. “Two realms?”

Tink opens her mouth, but before she can explain, a small voice pipes up from the hallway, and Henry shuffles in. His face is flushed and sweaty from sleep, his hair is sticking up crazily, and he drags his teddy bear behind him by one leg. He freezes when he sees Emma and Killian. Tink notices and rushes to scoop the boy up on her lap.

“Henry, you remember Killian, right?” She brushes at his hair as Henry nods shyly. “And this . . . “

Tink edges towards Emma slowly, and Emma sets down her cup of tea with shaking hands. She edges onto her knees so she is eye level with Henry.

“ . . . this,” Tink continues, “is your mother, Henry. She’s come for you.”

“Hi, Henry,” Emma whispers, smiling despite her choked voice.

The boy blinks as he takes Emma in, then he eases off Tink’s lap and comes closer to the mother he hasn’t seen since the day of his birth. Killian can tell Emma is overwhelmed and that she longs to touch her son. He also knows she won’t until the child is ready.

Henry pulls his teddy bear closer and rests his chin between the toy’s ears. “Do you want to see my other toys?” he asks Emma softly.

Emma’s smile is wide and beaming. “Yes, I would like that.”

Henry reaches out and takes Emma’s hand. Once they’re out of sight, Killian drops his face to his hands, unable to help the tears that leak out of the corners of his eyes.

*******************************

“I can scarcely believe how much it’s changed,” Killian muses to Tinkerbell as he looks around him, “we were only gone a few days.”

He’s lounging on a picnic blanket, Tink sitting cross-legged next to him. Emma has taken Henry down to the edge of the water for a swim. The blanket is scattered with the remains of their lunch.

“It truly is beautiful,” Tink says with a sigh.

Killian tosses an apple core into the woods behind him, then lays back, flinging his arm across his eyes and resting his hook on his stomach. Tink gives a sardonic half laugh, haugh snort.

“Don’t get too comfortable, pirate, there are still a few lost boys out there.”

Killian rises up on his elbows and arches a brow at the fairy. “You think they’d cause trouble?”

Tink shrugs, squinting out at the water. “Felix was loyal to Pan almost to the point of obsession. They’ve melted into the deepest part of the jungle and are quiet for now, but . . . “

“Well, I’m not borrowing trouble,” Killian grumbles. His eyes find Emma and Henry, and his voice grows thick with emotion. “I’d rather enjoy a quiet moment while I have it.”

The sun shines on the water of Mermaid Lagoon, making it sparkle like diamonds. The songs of the mermaids float on the air, and it’s just as beautiful as Tink had always said. Henry is knee deep in the water, laughing every time one of the mermaids flicks her tail at him. They’ve learned that the creatures can be rather mischievous, but one named Ariel has taken a particular liking to Henry. Ariel’s their princess, actually, and her fondness for the boy means they all remain on their best behavior with him.

Killian laughs at Henry’s antics. Each time he lunges for a mermaid tail, said mermaid darts away, and the five year old ends up splashing face first into the water. Yet every time, he resurfaces with a sputtering giggle. Killian’s gaze shifts to Emma. She and Tink are the same size, so the fairy has loaned her some clothes. Emma is currently wearing a one-shouldered dress of ocean green that hugs her figure. The skirt normally hits just below her calves, but Emma has it hitched up to her knees. She sits on a rock next to Henry, her legs in the water. Henry splashes her, and she splashes back. Then Emma opens her arms wide, and Henry launches himself into her embrace. Emma presses him close, not caring that he’s getting her completely wet.

“These two weeks have been good for both of them,” Tink comments.

“Aye,” Killian agrees, unable to tear his gaze away from the woman he loves. Emma rises from the rock, cradling Henry like a baby, and walks up the beach towards them. Killian can see that Henry is getting sleepy by the way his arms have gone slack in his mother’s arms. Sure enough, when Emma deposits him on the picnic blanket, the lad’s eyelids are drooping. Emma wraps him up in a towel, and Henry curls up in a ball on the blanket, hugging his teddy bear close. Emma catches Killian’s gaze and smiles as she brushes Henry’s wet hair out of his face. Soon, the boy’s breaths even out, and he’s fast asleep.

Emma frowns. “Do you think it’s okay for him to sleep out here? He’s wet.”

“Don’t fret, my love,” Killian tells her, “the sun is warm, and you have him wrapped up snugly.”

Emma nods, but still bites her lip in concern. She’s only been a mother for two weeks, after all. What does she know? Killian probably knows more than she does after all his years of rescuing lost boys. Mason was Henry’s age when he joined the crew, so Killian had practically been a teen father.

“Swan,” Killian says gently, taking her hand and rubbing her knuckles gently, “you’re wonderful with him. A natural.”

She lets out a long sigh and gives him a wobbly smile. How he manages to read her like that is another thing she’s having to get used to. She watches her son sleep, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Once he allowed her to touch him, she couldn't seem to get enough: hugs, rubbing noses, brushing his hair off his forehead, cheek kisses. Henry loves the affection too, often leaping onto her lap and cupping her face with his chubby little hands. One of Henry’s arms is flung out in sleep, a habit of his that Emma finds adorable. His birthmark catches her eye, as it often does.

“Tink,” she says softly, “these two weeks have been great. But don’t you think it’s time you explained to me what the hell this all means?”

Emma doesn’t miss the glance Tink tosses Killian’s way, yet the furrow upon Killian’s brow likely matches hers. He’s already told her about Pan searching for the heart of the truest believer and about the significance of Henry’s birthmark. What neither of them can understand is how she fits into all of this.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tink hedges.

“None of that, you bloody stubborn fairy,” Killian admonishes in a teasing voice. “You said that Henry would be a child of two realms, but from what Emma and I can gather, he’s a child of only one. A land without magic.”

Tink sighs, then looks at Emma questioningly. “Tell me about his father again.”

Emma shrugs. “He was just a boy. An ordinary runaway.”

“A right jackass is what he was.”

“Killian!”

“Well he was!” Killian protests, and Emma can’t help but smile at his indignation. They’ve had many long nights filling in all the details of their time apart, and Killian is definitely not a fan of Neal.

Tink says nothing, her gaze distant, and Emma can practically see gears turning in her head. Killian looks nervous too, for some reason. Emma glances back and forth between them.

“What are the two of you not telling me?”

“A child of two realms,” Killian says, his gaze falling on Henry, “and . . . “

“A child of royalty,” Tink fills in.

Emma blinks and gasps, “You can’t be saying . . . I mean, you don’t really think . . . but I’m no different than Neal! A nobody, nothing, I -”

“You were never nothing,” Killian interrupts her firmly.

Her gaze softens at the intensity in his voice, but then she shakes her head, the implications of it all overwhelming.

“You’re from a realm of magic, Emma,” Tink says, “it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“I was abandoned,” Emma argues.

“Think about it, darling,” Killian says softly, “you were found wrapped in a blanket that had your name stitched into it. Does that sound like careless parents to you?”

Emma rubs at her temple.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Tink says, “but the prophecy about the truest believer was very clear. You , Emma Swan, are not only from a magical realm, you’re also -”

“A princess,” Killian finishes for the fairy. Emma’s head snaps up at the sadness in his voice. His jaw clenches as he rises to his feet. “Which is why this idyllic little holiday must come to an end. My ship and my crew are at your disposal, your highness. I swear to you, we will find your family and your kingdom.”

Before she can process what he’s saying or the sudden formality in his voice, he’s turning away and striding quickly back through the jungle. Emma looks at Tink, her eyes blinking in confusion.

“What the hell is up with him?”

Tink sighs. “Captain Hook has quite the problem with self-loathing, I’m afraid.”

***********************************

Killian is slowly coming up from the depths of a deep sleep, fighting the persistent whisper of his name. Then soft lips brush across his, and he doesn’t want to fight it. His eyes blink open, and he squints in the dark, trying to see. A cool hand, a whisp of soft hair, and those lips again on the shell of his ear.

“Follow me, Killian.”

He thinks he’s dreaming at first, but when his arms reach for Emma’s side of the bed, and he finds it empty, the last cobwebs of sleep flee his brain. He sits up, heart pounding at first until he sees Emma in the doorway, smiling at him. She tilts her head in a gesture that says come on, and seems to glide out into the hallway. He knows it’s the illusion of her long, white satin nightgown, but it makes her look ethereal all the same.

Once he’s up and doing her bidding, she picks up her skirts and runs on her bare feet down the hall, through the parlor, and out of the cave. He swears he hears her giggle once they’re out in the moonlight, but he’s beginning to wonder again if this is a dream.

She stops at the edge of Mermaid Lagoon, and whirls to face him. He skids to a stop at the picture she makes, the light of the full moon pouring over her figure and illuminating her hair. That damn nightgown leaves little to the imagination, honestly, especially in this lighting. She smirks at him, as if she’s read his mind. Then she’s slipping the straps of the nightgown from her shoulders, letting the satin fall soundlessly around her feet. He’s completely shell-shocked now, blinking and practically gasping for air as he takes in her naked form, flawless and strong in the moonlight. They haven’t been intimate since her attack, and the sight before him causes an instant physical reaction. He suddenly realizes that he rushed after Emma without a shirt, without his brace, without his hook.

Without a weapon. He glances nervously at the jungle behind them, but Emma laughs.

“Is this a dream? A trick?”

She shakes her head and gives him a soft smile. “Killian. Seriously? I just felt we needed some time alone.”

That last word - alone - falls from her lips with weighted meaning. Then before he can respond or take another step, she turns and slips into the waters of the lagoon. She goes under soundlessly, then comes back up, only her head out of the water.

“Aren’t you coming, pirate? Or do you not know how to swim?”

It’s Killian’s turn now to smirk as he quickly discards his sleeping pants. “Oh believe me, love, I’m good in the water.”

He dives in, cutting across the lagoon with easy strokes. He breaks the surface right in front of her, and Emma immediately wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her naked body to his. He shouldn’t succumb to this temptation, not when he knows now who she really is and where she comes from. Yet his arms go around her automatically, and his forehead drops to hers.

“Emma,” he groans, “why are you torturing me?”

“Why are you torturing me?” she counters.

“I’m sorry?”

Emma’s fingers find his wet hair as she presses herself ever closer. “It’s been over two weeks, Killian. I miss you.”

“I didn’t want to push you.”

She smiles, nuzzling her nose against his, “I know, and God, I love you for that, but I’m ready.”

“But since then we’ve . . . well, now we know -”

“Stop it,” she commands, pressing a finger to his lips. Lips that curl up into a smile before pressing a kiss to the pad of her finger. “What was that for?”

“You sounded so regal just then.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn princess.”

Killian frowns. “Yes you are, and we should be reuniting you with your parents, your kingdo-”

Emma cuts him off with a fierce kiss, her tongue assaulting his, telling him far more with her actions than she ever could with words. He shouldn’t kiss her back, but their wet skin is pressed together, her fingers are digging into his scalp, and fire is coursing through his veins. Emma wraps her legs around his waist, and he’s completely incapable of rational thought. He slides his hand and stump down to hoist her up, grabbing her flesh in the process and eliciting a groan from deep in her throat. He shifts her so they are lined up perfectly, and she moans as he enters her. It’s quick, and slightly awkward in the water, but it’s been so long that neither of them mind. Emma’s legs tremble around him, and she drops her head to his shoulder as they both come down.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Killian tells her breathlessly.

“I did.”

He kisses her then, tenderly and with wonder. The jungle isn’t quiet; the water laps at the shore, crickets chirp, and leaves rustle. It feels like they can both finally breathe. He never wants it to end.

They stay in the water for a long time, never leaving one another’s embrace. Neither wants to break the spell of the night with words, so they speak with kisses instead. When they first try to leave the water, they make it only as far as the beach. He presses Emma into the sand with his weight, claiming her lips once again. Yet she’s the one who takes him, switching their positions and pinning his arms above his head. The moonlight is spilling over her again as she moves above him, her head thrown back, her breasts glorious. They come at the same time, and then Emma collapses against him, her hair everywhere. He gathers it in his hand as he presses a kiss to her shoulder.

The first light of dawn is just tinting the horizon when they finally get dressed. Killian tries not to look Emma in the eyes, worried still that this was all some sort of hazy dream, or worse, a goodbye.

He’s just slid his pants up to his waist when Emma comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her cheek to his back.

“This isn’t me saying goodbye, if that’s what you're thinking.”

His breath catches in shock. He’s not the only one who is perceptive. She’s smirking at him when he turns around, and she reaches up to cup his face in her hands.

“I love you, Killian Jones.”

“I love you, too.”

She searches his eyes. “I feel like my whole life, until now, I was just searching for something.”

He threads his fingers through her hair. “Aye love, I feel the same. Perhaps I have always been trying to find my way back to you.”

She gives him a tremulous smile, and he exults at what he sees in her eyes. Her next words, however, steal his breath.

“I don’t want to look for my parents.”

Killian frowns. “Emma, I’m sure they’ve been waiting for you all this time. Hoping, maybe even searching.”

She shakes her head. “I’m tired of living in the past. I’m ready to look forward - with you and with my son.” She presses a kiss to his lips and then drops her hands from his cheeks. Instead, she clasps both his hand and his stump and presses them to her chest.

Killian can scarcely breathe. “Swan, do you mean that you would . . . that is to say . . . “

Emma laughs as a single tear slips down her cheek. “Don’t make me ask you, pirate.”

He grins broadly as he presses his forehead to hers. “Marry me? Let me always, always be by your side? Let me be a father to Henry?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

Killian kisses her again as the sun breaks forth across Neverland.

Tagging: @snowbellewells​  @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @let-it-raines​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @winterbaby89​ @xhookswenchx​ @courtorderedcake​ @branlovestowrite​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @carpedzem​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @spartanguard​ @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @snidgetsafan​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @nikkiemms​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​

Ace/Aro Representation in Popular Media: A Reference Guide

NOVELS

THE GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO VICE AND VIRTUE AND THE LADY’S GUIDE TO PETTICOATS AND PIRACY BY MACKENZI LEE 

REPRESENTATION: Felicity Montague, a supporting character in the first book and the main character of the second, is openly aroace. There’s a lot of queer rep in these books apart from Felicity -- her brother, the main character of the first book, is bi, and there are also gay and lesbian characters.

PLOT: Felicity is a white, British teen girl who is dead set on becoming a doctor in the 1700s, despite opposition on all sides, both from her family and the misogynist men who control the medical establishment, and she is also busy navigating a world where her value as a person is equated with her ability to marry and have children, despite the fact that she has no desire to do either.

SAWKILL GIRLS BY CLAIRE LEGRAND  

REPRESENTATION: Zoey, one of the three main characters, is ace, black, and a teen girl. The other two protagonists, Marion and Val, are also openly queer. 

PLOT: Teen girls keep mysteriously vanishing without a trace from Sawkill Island and no one seems to be doing anything about it. Zoey, the daughter of the local sheriff, starts her own investigation after her best friend disappears. Not to spoil too much, but the plot involves monsters, a terrible curse, and magic.

EVERY HEART A DOORWAY BY SEANAN MCGUIRE

REPRESENTATION: The main character, Nancy, is an ace white girl. The Wayward Children series as a whole has tons of queer rep, including trans and lesbian characters. The author, Seanan McGuire, is demisexual and biromantic.

PLOT: Nancy fell through a doorway into a magical world, but now she’s back home, and she is having difficulty adjusting. Her parents send her to a boarding school for children who have had similar experiences, but then someone begins murdering Nancy’s classmates in grisly ways.

PROTECTOR OF THE SMALL SERIES BY TAMORA PIERCE

REPRESENTATION: The main character, Keladry of Mindelan, is an aro white girl.

PLOT: The series follows the struggles and adventures of Keladry, one of the first women to be allowed to train to be a knight, beginning when she is ten years old.

THE CIRCLE OF MAGIC SERIES BY TAMORA PIERCE

REPRESENTATION: Sandry, one of the main characters, is an ace white girl. There’s other queer rep in this series -- Daja is a black lesbian.

PLOT: Follows the adventures of four young mages, as they learn how to use and control their powers.

THE SHADOWHUNTER CHRONICLES BY CASSANDRA CLARE

REPRESENTATION: One of the supporting characters, Raphael Santiago, is an aroace Mexican vampire. The most explicit discussion of Raphael’s aroaceness happens in the short story “Son of the Dawn” in the upcoming Ghosts of the Shadow Market anthology (he specifically mentions being completely uninterested in romance) and in the novel The Red Scrolls of Magic, where he describes his sexual orientation as “not interested.”

PLOT: When fifteen-year-old Clary Fray heads out to the Pandemonium Club in New York City, she hardly expects to witness a murder — much less a murder committed by three teenagers covered with strange tattoos and brandishing bizarre weapons. Clary knows she should call the police, but it’s hard to explain a murder when the body disappears into thin air and the murderers are invisible to everyone but Clary. Equally startled by her ability to see them, the murderers explain themselves as Shadowhunters: a secret tribe of warriors dedicated to ridding the earth of demons. Within twenty-four hours, Clary’s mother disappears and Clary herself is almost killed by a grotesque demon.But why would demons be interested in ordinary mundanes like Clary and her mother? And how did Clary suddenly get the Sight? The Shadowhunters would like to know….

TASH HEARTS TOLSTOY BY KATHRYN ORMSBEE

REPRESENTATION: The main character, Tash, is an alloromantic ace woman.

PLOT: An ace coming-of-age story. Tash’s web series, based on Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, becomes unexpectedly popular, and she must navigate her newfound fame and the difficulties of her crush on a fellow YouTuber. 

LET’S TALK ABOUT LOVE BY CLAIRE KANN

REPRESENTATION: Alice, the main character, is bi, ace, black, and a woman. 

PLOT: Alice’s girlfriend dumps her (because she finds out Alice is ace) right before summer break, and she decides that she’s through with dating...until she meets a boy named Takumi.

COMIC BOOKS

RAVEN: THE PIRATE PRINCESS BY JEREMY WHITLEY

REPRESENTATION: Jayla Cooke, a secondary character, is a black, autistic, aroace woman. Nearly every character in this series is openly queer.

PLOT: Raven Xingtao, pirate princess, cobbles together a pirate crew composed entirely of women in order to gain revenge against her brothers, who stole her inheritance away from her.

JUGHEAD BY CHIP ZDARSKY

REPRESENTATION: This is the series that establishes that Jughead Jones is aroace.

PLOT: Riverdale High provides a quality education and quality hot lunches, but when one of those is tampered with, Jughead Jones swears vengeance! 

THE MOVEMENT BY GAIL SIMONE

REPRESENTATION: Roshanna Chatterji, one of the main characters, is a canonically ace Indian-American woman (I suspect she’s aro as well, but that’s not explicitly confirmed).

PLOT: The young heroes of The Movement rise up to take back the dirty streets of Coral City. But when one of their own is captured by the police, it’s Coral City’s finest against the citizens they have neglected to protect.

TELEVISION

SHADOWHUNTERS

REPRESENTATION: One of the supporting characters, Raphael Santiago, is an ace Mexican vampire.

PLOT: Based on Cassandra Clare's bestselling young adult fantasy book series, "The Mortal Instruments," Shadowhunters follows a group of human-angel hybrids who fight to protect their world by hunting down demons. With warlocks, vampires, werewolves, and ominous threats at every turn, the Shadowhunters must lean on each other and their abilities to keep the darkness at bay.

SIRENS

REPRESENTATION: Voodoo, one of the secondary characters, is a white asexual woman. 

PLOT: The series follows the work lives of three Chicago EMT paramedics with the Eminent Ambulance Company and the unusual—often crude or humorous—situations and people in need of their assistance.

BOJACK HORSEMAN

REPRESENTATION: Todd Chavez, one of the supporting characters, is an asexual Latino man.

PLOT: BoJack Horseman, the washed-up star of the 1990s sitcom Horsin' Around, plans his big return to celebrity relevance with a tell-all autobiography to be written by his ghostwriter Diane Nguyen. BoJack also has to contend with the demands of his agent and on-again-off-again girlfriend Princess Carolyn, the misguided antics of his freeloading roommate Todd Chavez, and his friend and rival Mr. Peanutbutter.

If anyone knows of any others, please share! 

Elevate Your Photography Game with Luxury Photography Equipment in Cozumel

Capturing Paradise: A Luxe Photography Experience If you're heading to Cozumel for a photography adventure, you're in for a treat. This island paradise is overflowing with opportunities to capture breathtaki  ng moments on film. From stunning sunsets to colorful marine life, Cozumel offers something for every type of photographer. Whether you're a beginner or a pro, the following tips can help you capture paradise at its finest. 1. Invest in Quality Equipment When it comes to photography, the quality of your equipment matters. A high-quality camera, lenses, and lighting equipment can take your images from average to outstanding. Investing in luxury photography equipment like a Canon EOS R5 or a Sony A7R IV can provide you with the high-resolution images you need to capture the beauty of Cozumel. 2. Explore the Island Cozumel is home to several natural wonders that make for excellent photo opportunities. Whether you're exploring the island's rugged coastline, diving in the coral reefs, or hiking through its dense jungles, there's always something new to discover. Grab your gear and explore the island to find the perfect shot. 3. Take Advantage of Golden Hour The hour before sunrise and the hour after sunset, commonly known as "golden hour," provides the perfect lighting for photography. During this time, the sun's warm light creates a soft, glowing effect that can add a magical touch to your images. Take advantage of this time to capture stunning sunrise and sunset photos. 4. Experiment with Different Perspectives Don't be afraid to experiment with different perspectives when taking photos in Cozumel. Whether you're shooting from a high vantage point or getting up close and personal with your subject, changing your perspective can add visual interest to your images. Try shooting from a low angle or a bird's-eye view to add a unique perspective to your photos. 5. Hire a Photographer If you want to elevate your photography game even further, consider hiring a professional photographer to capture your Cozumel adventure. A local photographer can offer insider tips on the best locations and lighting conditions for photos. They can also provide you with high-quality images that you can treasure for years to come. With these tips, you can capture Cozumel's paradise in all its glory. So grab your camera and head to this stunning island for a photography experience like no other. The Benefits of Upgraded Photography Equipment Better Image Quality Upgraded photography equipment allows for better image quality, with higher resolution and more accurate color reproduction. This means that your photos will be more vivid and detailed, and you'll be able to capture the essence of your subject with greater clarity. More Creative Control With upgraded photography equipment, you have greater creative control over your images. You can adjust settings such as aperture, shutter speed, and ISO to achieve different effects and create unique images. This allows you to express your creativity and capture your vision in a way that's impossible with basic equipment. Better Low-Light Performance Upgraded equipment can also improve your low-light performance, allowing you to capture clear, sharp images even in dimly lit environments. This is especially important for landscape and wildlife photography, where natural light is often the primary source of illumination. Faster Performance Upgraded equipment also offers faster performance, with faster autofocus and faster image processing. This allows you to capture more images in a shorter amount of time, and to react quickly to fleeting moments or unexpected events. Greater Durability Finally, upgraded photography equipment is typically more durable and reliable than basic equipment. This means that it can withstand the wear and tear of regular use, and will last longer before needing to be replaced. This can be especially important for professional photographers, who rely on their equipment to earn a living. Renting vs. Bringing Your Own Equipment Flexibility and Convenience One of the main benefits of renting photography equipment is the flexibility it offers. It allows you to try out a variety of gear without committing to a purchase, and you won't have to worry about lugging your equipment around with you. Renting also provides the convenience of having the equipment delivered right to your doorstep or hotel, saving you time and effort. On the other hand, if you bring your own gear, you'll have more control over your equipment and won't have to worry about any delays or potential issues with rented gear. However, traveling with expensive and delicate photography equipment can be risky and stressful. Budget Considerations Renting photography equipment can be more cost-effective if you only need it for a short period of time. Many rental companies offer competitive pricing and package deals, making it more affordable to use high-end equipment without breaking the bank. Bringing your own gear can be more expensive initially, but it can save you money in the long run if you plan on using it frequently. Experience Level Your level of experience with photography can also play a role in the decision to rent or bring your own equipment. If you're just starting out and experimenting with different equipment, renting can be a great way to find what works best for you. However, if you're a seasoned photographer, you may already have a good grasp on the gear you prefer to use and might benefit more from investing in your own equipment. In conclusion, the decision to rent or bring your own photography equipment ultimately depends on individual circumstances and preferences. Consider factors such as flexibility, convenience, budget, and experience level when deciding which option is best for you. Regardless of what route you take, having high-quality equipment can elevate your photography game and make your Cozumel vacation even more memorable. Top Luxury Photography Equipment to Rent in Cozumel 1) Canon EOS 5D Mark IV If you are looking for a high quality camera to capture your Cozumel memories, the Canon EOS 5D Mark IV is the perfect choice. With a 30.4 Megapixel full-frame sensor and 4K video capabilities, it offers exceptional image quality and versatility. Renting this camera with a variety of lenses will give you the ability to capture stunning landscapes, underwater shots, and portraits with ease. 2) DJI Phantom 4 Pro The DJI Phantom 4 Pro is an advanced drone that is perfect for capturing aerial footage of Cozumel's natural beauty. With a 20-megapixel camera and a 1-inch CMOS sensor, it delivers high-quality images and videos that are perfect for creating stunning travel videos and photos. 3) Sony a7R III The Sony a7R III is another high-end camera that is perfect for capturing beautiful images of Cozumel. With a 42.4 megapixel sensor and 4K video capabilities, it offers exceptional image quality and flexibility. It is also known for its fast autofocus and high-speed shooting, making it a great option for action photography. 4) Underwater Housing for DSLR Cameras If you are interested in underwater photography, renting an underwater housing for your DSLR camera is a must. Not only will it protect your camera from the elements, but it will also allow you to capture stunning images of the colorful marine life around Cozumel. 5) GoPro HERO7 Black No travel photography kit is complete without a GoPro, and the HERO7 Black is the most advanced yet. With HyperSmooth video stabilization and the ability to shoot in 4K, it is perfect for capturing all of your adventures in Cozumel. Whether you are snorkeling, ziplining, or exploring the island, the HERO7 Black will help you capture it all. Tips for Using High-End Photography Equipment 1. Know Your Equipment Before using a high-end camera, make sure you understand how it works. Read the manual, watch tutorial videos, and experiment with different settings to get the most out of your camera. Knowing your equipment will help you take the best shots possible and avoid any mishaps. 2. Use a Tripod Using a tripod will help your photos be sharper and more steady. A tripod will also allow for longer exposure times, which can be useful in low-light environments. Be sure to invest in a sturdy, well-built tripod that can support the weight of your camera and lens. 3. Experiment with Settings High-end cameras provide a wealth of settings options. Experimenting with different settings can help you find the perfect combination for different types of shots. Try shooting in manual mode to have complete control over your exposure, aperture, and ISO. Don't be afraid to push your camera to its limits to capture the perfect shot. 4. Work with Lighting Understanding lighting is critical in photography. When shooting outdoors, take advantage of natural light, such as golden hour and blue hour. When shooting indoors, invest in quality lighting equipment to help illuminate your subject. 5. Use the Right Lens Using the right lens can make a significant difference in the quality of your photos. Wide-angle lenses are ideal for capturing landscapes, while telephoto lenses are great for zooming in on details. Consider investing in prime lenses, which have a fixed focal length and can produce sharper images. 6. Post-Processing Post-processing can enhance your images and bring out their best qualities. Invest in quality post-processing software, such as Adobe Lightroom or Photoshop, and take time to learn how to use these tools effectively. Using high-end photography equipment can elevate your photography game significantly. By following these tips, you can take advantage of the capabilities of your equipment and capture stunning shots. Capturing Cozumel's Natural Beauty: Shooting Locations Cozumel is a natural paradise, filled with unrivaled beauty and diverse nature that attracts many tourists every year. This Mexican island boasts several natural wonders perfect for capturing stunning photographs. Here are some of the best locations for capturing Cozumel's natural beauty: Chankanaab Park Located in the southern part of the island, Chankanaab Park is a favorite spot for photographers and nature enthusiasts. This nature reserve has crystal-clear lagoons, a beautiful beach, a botanical garden, and even a Mayan archaeological site. In addition, visitors can swim with dolphins and sea turtles, making it a great way to capture the island's natural beauty. Punta Sur Eco Beach Park Punta Sur Eco Beach Park is the perfect spot for capturing Cozumel's landscape and wildlife. This ecological park has a beautiful beach, a lighthouse, a museum, and several walking trails. Visitors can also spot various migratory birds, crocodiles, and sea turtles throughout the park. San Gervasio Mayan Ruins For those interested in historical and cultural photography, the San Gervasio Mayan Ruins are a must-visit attraction in Cozumel. The ancient ruins of the Mayan civilization provide excellent photography opportunities with their unique architecture and mystical ambiance. Cozumel's Beaches Cozumel's beaches are some of the world's most beautiful, with crystal-clear turquoise waters and powdery white sands. Most beaches on the island offer excellent photography opportunities for capturing sunrise, sunset, and the island's flora and fauna. Puerta Maya Pier Puerta Maya Pier is one of the busiest spots on the island as it's the port of call for several cruise ships. However, it's also an excellent place to capture the island's colorful buildings, local life, and the stunning views of the Caribbean sea. There is no shortage of natural beauty on Cozumel Island, and these are just a few locations perfect for capturing its magic. From the beaches to the ecological parks, there is always something for photographers to capture on the island. Elevate Your Photography Skills with a Professional Workshop. If you want to take your photography skills to the next level, attending a professional workshop can prove to be extremely beneficial. Not only will you learn new techniques and skills from an experienced photographer, but you will also have the opportunity to practice and enhance your skills in a supportive environment. Benefits of attending a photography workshop One of the biggest benefits of attending a photography workshop is the opportunity to learn from a professional photographer. They will be able to provide you with insights and tips on how to improve your technique and composition, as well as discuss the importance of shooting in different lighting and weather conditions. Additionally, workshops often offer the opportunity to shoot with luxury photography equipment, which can enhance the quality and beauty of your photos. Choosing the right workshop When choosing a photography workshop, it is important to consider your skill level and what you hope to achieve from the experience. Some workshops may be geared towards beginner photographers while others may be more advanced. Additionally, some workshops may focus on a specific type of photography, such as landscape or portrait photography. By selecting a workshop that is tailored to your specific needs and interests, you can make the most of your experience. The benefits of attending a photography workshop in Cozumel Attending a photography workshop in Cozumel offers an added level of excitement and adventure. With its stunning beaches, crystal-clear waters, and colorful marine life, Cozumel provides the perfect backdrop for photographers of all skill levels. Additionally, attending a workshop in Cozumel offers the opportunity to explore the island and immerse yourself in the local culture, providing ample opportunities to capture stunning images. Overall, attending a professional photography workshop can provide you with the skills and knowledge necessary to take your photography game to the next level. By choosing a workshop that is tailored to your interests and attending one in a stunning location like Cozumel, you can enhance your skills and create stunning images that you will cherish for years to come. If you're looking to capture the beauty of coastal landscapes, don't miss out on Oregon's stunning offerings. Read the full article

Mer Hugh Culber

I know Mermay was like.... months ago. But here we are, in August, and this is finally done.  ..and why not? because lets be honest.... stranger things have happened in Star Trek canon. Lol. I also wrote a little introductory story, where Hugh is a merman and Paul is human, which I have put under the cut below. (It’s 2k.) I’m still writing more for this little AU, as it’s really chill, light and just exploratory - so, I’m enjoying the world building. I’ll eventually upload it to AO3 when I’m done. Anyway, lil story under the cut. It’s quite rough, and un-beta’d. 

fyi; It’s set a little in the future, but not quite as far as prime!verse. Maybe on Earth? Maybe not?  ---- ---- ---- ---- Paul is an officer aboard a submarine vessel, and is one of the offers in charge of navigation and subsequently has to monitor all activity on the sonars. He notices strange ambience waves, much like a whale songs, on the radar. It's a ‘guilty pleasure’ of his, to sit there and watch the radars with whalesong in his head, while on duty. The submarine is awfully stifling, clinical, isolated and just... shit, honestly. How he ever ended up here he’ll never know. Every time he's under the ocean in this damned tin-can, he misses the life from above, and even the life of coral littered floors. 

So he picks up his headset, and listens to the whale-song. 

It's not a whale he's ever heard before - and he has heard a lot of different whalesong, from many different waters - it's... not quite as pitched as a whales, not as loud. It's soft and close. Although it’s too deep to be a dolphins, and dolphins ‘in this area’ don’t really venture out this far anyway. Whatever is making the song, it's beautiful, so he sits back for the rest of his shift - monitoring the radars, doing his systems checks, just listening to the song. 

It's an hour before the end of his shift, and the song simply stops without much warning. He waits for that remaining hour, but the song doesn't return - usually it does. The creature must have swam away, or maybe something happened - as is ocean life. So he goes through changeover, asking the next crewman to record any whale-song he might hear, to which they’re friends and he’s happy to oblige Paul’s strange tendencies. He goes off to the mess hall - which he calls the sardine can, with little affection -  for a quick dinner. He finishes his evening up quickly with a shower, then returning to his bunk to read and ends up falling asleep with the book half open on his chest as usual. 

The next day an aircraft carrier, from the direction they came from, was requesting their assistance with drills. So they divert route, and go back the way they came. There was no urgency to the request, no rush at all, so the engines worked at the same speed. It’s an opportunity to restock supplies anyway, not that they were low, but on a submarine, it is never a bad thing to have supplies. 

When Paul’s shift recommences, returning to his station, they are passing through the same waters that they had yesterday. It was almost at the exact same coordinates when the song began again. Puzzled, he records it - as his friend hadn’t heard anything overnight - this time for further analysis. He’ll cross reference the audio with the archives to pinpoint what creature it might be. He marks the location, and makes many observations as he can with the fluctuations and patterns of the creatures song. 

Nothing had quite excited him in this tin can as much as this does, not for a long,long time.

When they reach the rendezvous point, something went horribly wrong with the drills, and they will end up needing repairs. Thankfully nearby an island, to which the crew who is not needed - like navigation - will spend the next while off-duty while the repairs are taking place.

Paul takes the opportunity to hire a small vessel to go investigate the sonar readings. Attached to it is a one man pod meant for deep sea diving. The sea here is not so deep and nearby there are plenty of coral reefs and other islands, too. So him, his friend Straal and a small team, charter out to the location of the coordinates that Paul had marked. They monitor the radar, listen with sonar devices and other equipment that they have on their very small vessel. 

They pick up something faint, and perhaps the equipment on the ship just isn’t comparable to high grade military equipment, so he Paul takes the one-man pod and dives down into the waters with it, trying to navigate and triangulate where the song is coming from. 

He does so, fairly close to the surface, really, as the ocean at this point falls away into a deep trench, and he hasn’t dived that far down into the waters comparable to the depths available. On the little radar within, he notices that something is in his direct vicinity and the song is so loud now. Even if he turns off the recording device Paul can hear it faintly, and so softly through the hull of the pod. 

Yet, there's still no sign of the creature. He manoeuvres the pod around in circles, in all dimensions, trying to get a glimpse of the creature. Surely it must be close, so close. It’s when he catches glimpses of bubble trails and disturbed water that his heart begins to race. He should be frustrated, really, but the mounting feeling of just being giddy and excited is overwhelming. 

Eventually, he's quick enough to catch a glimpse of a tail - just a corner of it - it's dark, and illuminated with spirals of reds, oranges and deep purples. It's... Well, it’s certainly not what he expected. And what kind of creature moves like this? It’s so agile, and fast. It’s certain to him now that that wasn't the tail of any dolphin he knows. Yet it’s as playful as one.

He has to see this thing more than just a tiny glimpse of it’s tail before he could ever allow himself to surface. He’s so close to figuring out his mystery. So, he gets an idea. 

He cut the engines and turns off the lights. Only the faintest lights from the instruments were left, and glow faintly over his skin. He waits. It’s clear that the creature is curious. Eventually it will be curious enough to face him. Well, it should be. He hopes.

He hears a soft thud of something, making contact with the hull of the side of the pod, it wasn’t violent or hard. The noise came from just out of sight from the large window that spans the entire front of the pod, allowing the driver of the pod to have a vast and wide view of the ocean before them - before Paul. 

It’s a few moments later - and by this time Paul’s heart his hammering nervously in his chest - when the tip of the beautifully patterned tail came into view, edging its way very slowly into the view of the window. It's tail was beautiful, scales gleaming under the glistening low light, and the light of the colourful instruments inside of the pod danced over the membrane. Whatever this beautiful tail belongs to, for all their playful antics from before, somehow now they had become shy or cautious. Paul can’t tell which. 

It was when the body of the creature came into view that his heart stopped dead in his chest. 

It’s a man. 

But what man can swim unassisted at these depths? With no gear at all? And what kind of mans body was ...attached to a beautiful tail? He can’t comprehend what is in front of him. His mind flips and churns over trying to reason with what he is witnessing. A creature? A man? A myth? All of the above? What was right before his eyes didn’t make sense. Paul’s eyes are as wide as his, and his skin, unlike Paul’s is dark, and gleams and glistens so beautifully in the low light of the ocean. Paul slowly begins to take in all the stranger details of what is before his eyes, this myth does in-fact have gills that trail down his neck - more along his torso - as well as golden markings along his sides and back that contrast so vibrantly against his dark skin. Frills and fins adorn his back and shoulders, his defined and muscular chest is dotted with more glowing, golden markings.

Despite all of this - despite all these strange and unfamiliar things - he seems so human. He looks so human. His face is just the same as any humans, his arms and his entire torso too. 

His hands, that are darker again, and dotted with more glowing markings and fade into the tone of the rest of his torso further up his arms you go, are so gently placed on the glass as he stares inwards directly at Paul. They are human hands, even if they are sharply clawed. This creature - no, this man - is staring at him, and Paul can not bear himself to tear his vision away from him, either. They’re curious, he can see it in his eyes, but also considering and perhaps a little cautious. The intelligence behind his eyes is undeniable. This is no creature.

After forever and a moment, Paul remembers how to breathe. The next moment, he forgets how to move autonomously and finds that his body is arching forward, slowly, towards the glass. He’s reaching towards where the webbed hands that are pressed up against the pods thick glass and he places his against it, against his. 

The man, this mythical man, breaks his gaze away from Paul's eyes, looking over his hands. Then his gaze wanders all over the rest of Paul's body, tilting his head in the most universally understood motion. He's learning. 

So Paul slowly brings his free hand, careful not to startle this man, and gestures towards himself. 

"Paul." He says simply, his voice too quiet, from how awestruck he is. "Paul." He says again, louder, more assuredly, pointing to himself again. 

Then this impossible man performs the impossible, as at this depth where light was scarce - he illuminates the cabin with just his smile. Not literally, of course, but Paul is entirely mesmerised by how bright and illuminating his entire presence is. Paul’s curious companion begins to hum the song that had become so familiar to Paul, singing to him - for him. Paul finds himself smiling along with him, entirely captivated by everything about him.

Suddenly the mythical man looks out into the waters behind him, and it’s clear that there is something out there that has caught his attention and bothers him. He frowns - and it’s so relatable to human experience, it surprises Paul - and turns back to Paul. He makes a gesture so alien to him, he can’t even begin to decipher what it’s meaning can possibly be. 

Then he turns, and swims away. He’s out of sight - gone - into the beyond of the inky waters, leaving Paul mystified and in awe, over what had just happened. 

The reality of it has already started to feel like it was all a dream. But, there, right on the glass, is a hand print with several tiny scales that had stuck to the window. It wasn't a dream, and that is his only proof.

He snaps back into reality as he becomes aware of the distant sounds of his comms blaring, from somewhere behind him where he had discarded the device. Straal and the team are calling out for him, wondering ‘what the fuck is going on, Stamets. What had happened?’ Silence from him was rare, after all. He puts on the headset again, restarts his engines, and assured them that all is fine and he is fine. He manoeuvres the pod back to the boat, and as he surfaces, swinging the hatch free, he steps out of it bearing a smile that he knows that none have them have ever seen before in his life. He doubts he’s ever smiled this hard in his life. 

Instantly the team on the boat descends on him, asking what on earth happened. 

"He found me." he says still entirely bemused. 

"He?" Straal asks. And if Paul has never smiled this much, Straal certainly has never looked so bewildered. 

"Oh, Straal... You will not believe who that song was coming from, and he is unspeakably beautiful." 

So Paul dedicates himself to finding out more about this man born of myths. What does he know? Who does he sing to? Is he alone? Will they ever be able to communicate?

He endeavours to found out.

//end

The Song of the Abyss

An excerpt from my incomplete novella idea and brainchild of mine, based in the beginning of the second story arc of the series. There’s a lot of vague plot points and story headcanons all over the place so it might get confusing, so I’m just going to say that there’s a hint of a much bigger ongoing adventure behind the scenes. 

Also, since this is just a rough draft, expect some potential grammar mistakes and poor sentence structuring as well as future editing updates. 

22/5/2019: Changed and added a few details.

29/5/2019: Altered several details and canon re-positioning of events.

16/6/2019: No longer canon, as backstory has been changed.

Warning: It’s gets creepy! And a bit heart-wrenching, maybe, depending on how you see it.

Summary: A modern day white mage dreams of the beautiful sea underwater, the calm before the storm and the shadowy abyss that belies beneath it. 

The ocean winds caressed her warm cheeks, snowy white hair fanned out and flying amidst the salt-scented gale. 

She was dreaming again. 

Agnes knew it the moment she let her gaze wonder into the horizons of the endless sea, the waves lapping at her sand-coated feet. 

The sun was slowly setting into the ocean, the sky lit ablaze in fiery orange like a sparked match amidst the clearly visible starry night. Steely grey eyes speckled with tiny golden flecks widened, mesmerized by by the sight before her.

Without even needing to look around, Agnes could already tell she was on some sort of remote island, standing in a quiet beach where there was nobody present. Her left hand shivered slightly, noting the absence of a cherished lantern in her grasp. 

Before she could even begin to wonder what exactly was happening, Agnes startled upon hearing something from a distance. 

A strange sound, so almost imperceptibly soft that her strained ears could barely detect it, emitting from the surface of the water.  

Was it humming? No, there are words being spoken, but with a certain melody. It sounds almost as if it was...

Singing. 

Someone was singing.

But Agnes couldn’t hear the lyrics being sung. The words were not understandable and near gibberish, almost like it was recording a person butchering their spoke English words and reverse the audio on high volume. 

A glitchy mess of static words playing underwater, to be exact. 

Except... She finds the melody of the scratchy song strangely beautiful.

Agnes couldn’t describe it. She has no innate musical talents, does not have a trained ear for music and could not understand for her life, distinguish the differences in genres between two similar sounding songs. 

That’s how hopeless she was when it comes to music. Her singing was almost an equivalent to a walrus cry and she has no talent whatsoever with any type of musical instrument.

Yet, she could not deny the peculiar beauty of the fragmented song, echoing soundly from the depths of the sea. 

An impulse. A desire. The need to understand. 

Agnes’ naked legs started moving on their own, each step a splash that sent rippling waves onto its glistening water surface. The sound of the crashing tides upon the sandy shores accompanied the unearthly song of the deep.

The woman could feel her feet walking down a path of squishy wet sand descending downwards like a hill underwater. The water surface grew taller and taller, soaking her cotton white dress lined with creamy yellow accents all over, until her whole body was completely submerged in seawater.

Strangely enough, even as Agnes gasped in shock and bubbles came out from her mouth, she doesn’t quite feel the panic she should’ve felt when seawater rushed down her throat. Then again, she knew it was a relatively odd dream. Drowning just wasn’t possible and she instinctively knew it. 

But that wasn’t was truly surprised her, no. 

It was the gorgeous sight of exotic coral that popped out like a radiant underwater garden. Swarms of various tropical fishes swam cheerfully among the crystal clear water, their unique scales glistened and complementing their equally colourful environment. 

The soothing ambiance of rushing waters filled her ears, drowning out the scratching melody that lured her into the sea. She did not question it. 

As little bubbles gushed along her sweeping arms when she swam out into the open waters, Agnes wonders how her subconscious could come up with such a vast diversity of species that she could not recognize apart from an odd clown fish and regal blue tang, since she doesn’t have that much interest in marine biology. 

She doesn’t deny her awe, however, at the sheer beauty of such an riveting sight. 

A moment later, something soft prodded the right arm and Agnes turned her head to look down at what might possibly one of the cutest animals she has ever seen in her life. 

It was a seal pup, and an incredibly adorable one at that. 

Its curious black eyes stared inquisitively at her, the rubbery nose on their muzzle twitched and quivered cutely. It tilted its fuzzy head for a moment when all of a sudden, there was what seems to be a glint of recognition and awe in its puppy dog eyes.

Agnes wasn’t sure exactly. Were animals supposed to have recognizable emotions in their eyes? 

Before she could ponder about it though, the seal sudden lunged forward and Agnes was too slow to react properly. Closing her eyes instinctively, she swallowed down a bit of water, which was a strange sensation indeed, when she felt appendages akin to flippers wrapping around her arm.

When Agnes opened her eyes again, the seal was nuzzling its soft muzzle onto her arm with such sheer affection that she could practically feel the love pouring out of its warm fur in the cold waters. The simple joy in its black orbs and the twitching in its tail were enough to show her that the little seal considers her a cherished friend in a short amount of time. 

Agnes’ eyes teared up, her heart positively melting into a gooey mess of joy as she reciprocated the seal pup’s loving hug with an embrace of her own. 

How did she deserved such a fluffy sea potato showing so much love to her? 

As she cuddled and cooed at the ball of grey fluff, her mind wanders. If Agnes wasn’t dreaming of a heavenly Great Coral Reef, then what else could she possibly dream of? This fantastic reality of the underwater realm was way too realistic for her pitiful artistic mind could picture about. 

“Brooke!”

Agnes and the seal pup jerked up, turning their heads at the direction of the voice that called out to a name that the seal pup clearly reacted at with a soft mewl from its muzzle... Or her muzzle?

“Brooke, where are you? We can’t wander too far in this waters!”

The young woman was slightly confused. While talking to other people in dreams weren’t an uncommon occurrence for Agnes, the voice that was obviously that of a grown woman sounded far too real for a figment of imagination. Agnes wasn’t perfect by all means, but she had enough practice in dreaming to know a bit of difference between real and fake.

But wait a minute, the last time she met and interacted with another person was-

Agnes’ eyes widened in shock as she took in the figure of the person floating before her. While the person was clearly a woman, she was also definitely not a human being.

After all, there was a scaly fishtail below her waist where the non-existent legs should be. 

The mermaid could only be described as simply beautiful. Curvaceous upper body, silky black hair and high cheekbones complimenting her navy blue jewels for eyes. Cobalt metallic breastplates hugged snugly to the mermaid’s chest, decorated in pearly white lines. The scales on her fishtail were that of resplendent sapphires. 

It was almost like staring at royalty in their most finest, if there is one for the mysterious race of aquatic beings famously known in popular culture and romantic literature. 

Agnes thought of herself as pretty at times when she feels confident enough to admit it, but even she couldn’t compete with the level of beauty that the mermaid had unwittingly displayed in front of her. That, and it was not the typical fanfare of creatures that Agnes dreamed of every night. 

The mermaid, gracefully swimming in elegant strides with a swish of her fishtail, stopped abruptly and floated upright as she stared wide-eyed at Agnes. Her expression nothing sort of pure shock, and the feelings was mutual with Agnes. 

How on earth can Agnes explain exactly just what she feels when seeing a fairy tale creature that literally looked like she popped out of the pages of a children’s storybook? Added with the hyper-realism of a sugar-coated fantasy that hasn’t lost its magic charm, she wasn’t exactly sure how to sort out the mess that was her feelings.

(In other words, she was inwardly squealing. Werewolves and vampires are special on their own, but mermaids?!)

The mermaid then opened her mouth, “You’re-”

But alas, whatever the mermaid attempted to say towards her was interrupted by an onslaught of disembodied voices that screeched the same barely legible lyrics that reverberated underwater like static.

This time, however, the once alluring melody that accompanied it was non-existent. It was no longer a soothing presence that Agnes once thought it was, but an atrocious menace to their ears. 

Like nails scratching on a cardboard. 

“-AFjC-hopes-HDIOLhsa-scattered-asdh-dance-ALHSDh-storm-aphd-”

Agnes let go of the seal pup, hands immediately reaching up to cover her ears as she closed her eyes with a tight, grimaced expression on her face. She could scarcely hear the baby seal whimpering and the mermaid’s frustrated groans despite her covered ears, failing to block out the infernal noise. 

It was a horrid noise, loud and deafening, hurting her ears like a hurling sledgehammer. The poor seal’s ears. The mermaid’s ears too. She wants it to stop. It can’t stop hurting their ears. 

Why can’t it stop!?

Lo and behold, it did. 

Agnes was still with terror, body shaking as she refused to open her eyes. She took in deep breaths, distracting herself with the alien sensation of seawater gushing down her throat without drowning her lungs since it was a dream and dreams don’t make sense.

With bated breath, she mustered the courage to open her eyes once more.... 

Agnes let a silent scream, eyes dilated in pure horror as bubbles escaped her mouth. 

Only to see a deluge of inky black darkness consuming everything in sight, torrential rainfall battering the choppy waves of the sea as maelstroms and hurricanes battered the water surface.

Leading the deluge from the above rode a ship enshrouded in wispy shades, unaffected by the unholy storm its presence brought in its wake. The starlit night was warped with such horrific distortions that the once peaceful sky turned into a never-ending black mass of stormy clouds, a dark beast raging behind its cursed master. 

Any tropical fishes and marine mammals that somehow managed to escape the demonic onslaught of darkness that swallowed the coral reef in sight had their efforts rendered fruitless, as the harsh water currents dragged the poor creatures back into the shadowy deluge.

Agnes trembled in fear. She knows this darkness all too well. Even in a different form, its lust for destruction has not changed in the slightest nor was it sated. 

The seal pup (Brooke?) was swimming beside her shook violently, whimpering in sheer terror. Even the mermaid was too stunned to react properly, petrified by the infernal storm that would soon consume them within its dark jaws. 

The harsh water currents then reached the motley trio, breaking them out of their terrified stupor. 

While Agnes was close to burst out in tears as she tried to push back the pulling currents, she turned to see the mermaid tearfully hugging the crying seal pup in a protective embrace as they resists the pull of the dark deluge.

Their desperate struggle in the face of such disaster pierced her heart with shocked epiphany, which was enough to ground Agnes back into reality and steel her nerves with gritted teeth as she stifled her own scream as much as she could.  

She won’t let them be taken by the darkness, no way!

After all, this is her dream. Even without her lantern, she still has magic. 

Spreading her arms wide, Agnes focused deeply for the white magic within her. Both of her open palms emitted a warm-hued light, igniting the rest of her body in a radiant aura of the rising sun. 

Narrowing her glowing eyes, Agnes pulled back her hands and cupped them on the middle of her sternum. The brilliant radiance that surrounded her was quick to spread, reaching out for the dumbstruck seal and mermaid as she pulled them into the safety of her shining light.

Soon enough, the ship that brought disaster in its wake reached the three of them, the blaring screech of its horn echoing throughout the darkened ocean. The shadow that hang beneath it envelops them, casting the trio into a pitch-black void.

That was when everything stopped.

There was no heavy pitter-patter of torrential downpour battering the water surface, the ferocious water currents halted suddenly and the inky blue waters that surrounded them was quiet.

Far too quiet, in fact.

The only comfort they had within this unnervingly silent void was the shimmering bubble of radiant light that protects them from the surrounding darkness. 

Agnes took the chance to glance over at her unlikely companions in concern and mentally sighed in relief that the mermaid and the seal pup were safe and sound, if somewhat shaken. 

She pointedly ignored the piercing stares that burns her pale skin as she asked them, ���Are both of you okay?” 

The mermaid stared at her wide-eyed for a moment before her lips shakily curved in a grateful smile. She closed her eyes as she bowed her head humbly, much to Agnes’ shock. 

“Thank you so much for saving us, Radiant Maiden,” the mermaid murmured graciously, her melodious tone tinged with wonder and relief as she looked up again with her arm gently wrapped around an equally awed Brooke.

Even though Agnes was underwater, even if it was a dream, her mouth had never felt so dry. 

“No, I’m not-” The white mage then sighed tiredly, bubbles coming out as she rubbed her forehead with one glowing hand. Her other hand twitched at the reminder of her absent lantern. She eyed the mermaid and seal pup warily, “What are you doing all the way out here? How did you even know how to dream walk, or swim in this case, I guess, and ended up here?”

The seal pup bowed its head guiltily like a kicked puppy, and the mermaid looked downtrodden, “We know the risks. We were just... We were too eager to for a momentary escape from our lives in reality that we didn’t...”

“Say no more,” Agnes nodded her head with newfound understanding, staring at them with sympathy. God knows how often Agnes dreams to escape her own troubles in life, “I know what you mean.”

The mermaid shook her head in self-admonishment, “We should’ve known better than to linger here in these waters for too long, not when the remaining Wicked Bastions are running amok in reality.” 

Agnes’ bright gold-hued eyes widened like saucer plates as she covered her mouth, “... The news traveled that fast?” 

“Yes, blessed maiden,” The mermaid nodded her head grimly and the seal pup fidgeted beside her, “Even from the seas, we still could see the tainted moonlight seeping through the water surface,” She then glances down with trembling lips, “Never had I imagined such a horrid sight.”

Memories of Agnes’ previous conflict with the first Wicked Bastion flashed in her mind. as it’s cursed contents leaking and fogged over the town of Luvarille she was staying at on the day of the Bleeding Moon. 

It was an unnaturally horrid sight, oozing out so much scarlet miasma that it dripped from the moon like a gaping wound. It was almost as if someone murdered the moon and hanged its bloody corpse in the blackened sky, a ring of death that reflects its unearthly radiance upon the street, bathing innocents within its crimson malice. 

All the while overseen by the vengeful spirit of the Lady and her blood-soaked grin.

“Am I...” Agnes gulped nervously, her heart beating erratically, “Nearby?”

The mermaid tilted her head in confusion, “I... supposed so, yes. If you are here, then you are near Palomedian Island.” 

Agnes jerked her head at the mention of the island. That’s where she and the others were heading at-!

“Palomedian Island?” She repeated the name, wide-eyed.

“Yes, it’s where the Warden guards over the Bastion of-” The mermaid gasped and shuddered, sharply staring beyond their light haven, “-the Abyss.”

The sheer horror and panic that flooded the mermaid’s navy blue eyes left Agnes taken aback, as she tightly hugged her seal companion. Brooke, at least that was what Agnes could distinctly remember the name the seal pup was called, looked equally distraught by the revelation. 

Following their fear-struck stares, Agnes stifled a gasp as she truly realized the dire enormity of their situation upon seeing nothing but an inky blue abyss everywhere. No matter where she looks, there were only bottomless depths where nothing exists but blackened waters voided of light. 

Silence was all it offered for the lost victims swimming within its pitch-black darkness and even then, Agnes knew deep inside her heart that somehow... It wasn’t a guarantee. 

A sweetened lie to sooth its paranoid victims, that it was only themselves all alone wandering, floating in the deep abyss. 

Agnes should’ve notice it. Yet, even with all the light that shone from her entire being, she didn’t notice it. The way it-they move so quietly, lurking beneath them like sharply focused predators.

“We can’t be here!” The mermaid exclaimed, downright panicking as they saw something rushing past them beyond the outskirts of the light barrier, “This is their territory! They will come for us-!”

A massive screeching of all things unholy underwater from all directions assaulted their ears. 

It was already too late.

A webbed claw, scaled a sickening green, pierced through the light to grab Brooke by her flippers. It tore the yelping seal pup away from them and into the darkened waters, much to their horror. 

“NO!” Agnes screamed out for the seal pup, her heart breaking into pieces just hearing Brooke’s desperate whines in the darkness but she too was being held back by more webbed claws that pierced through the light barriers. 

“BROOKE, NO-!” The mermaid shrieked as she tried to reach for the taken seal pup, but was grabbed by even more webbed claws that held her hair and arms. Already there were bloody scratch marks present on her body. Whatever this horde of sea monsters were, they were terribly rough.

Dragged out of the light and into the darkness with sheer prejudice, Agnes could hear the mermaid distinctly and rebelliously screamed back at the invisible horde tearing her away, “LET GO OF HER, YOU INBRED BEASTS!” 

The light sphere faltered and dimmed, golden white motes disintegrating into the darkened waters. As Agnes struggled with her own personal assault of horrendous webbed claws scornfully pulling her apart, she noticed something odd about her attackers through whatever little light there was to illuminate the dark despite the painful haze she was under.

They happened to looked almost similar to... Humanoid fishes. 

They looked viscerally horrifying, for their lack of lips, sallow greenish gray scales on their bodies and sharp monstrous fangs protruding all over from their gums does not make a good image of them. Their beady black eyes stands out in the darkness, gleaming with absolute hate that burns in those dark depths. 

At least the nice mermaid looks remotely human from the waist up, but these monstrous fish people... Do they even have any resemblance of humanity? 

“No...” Agnes croaked, hearing the desperate cries of Nerida and the mermaid (she should’ve asked for her name, dammit) echoing in the dark, the rush of moving water pounding her ears, the condemning screeching of whatever these fish-scaled beasts were... All but lowly fading into the background noise of these pitch-black depths. 

Is this end? Will this dream end by being ripped apart by monsters living in the abyss? They strayed too far from their dreams into these bottomless dark depths. Was this the punishment they deserved for not heeding the warnings?

“...No,” She repeated hoarsely, compassion burning beneath her heated skin. Even when she just had met Brooke, the adorable seal and the mild-mannered mermaid, she will never leave them behind. Never let them die. Not even in a dream. Not when she could do something to stop this. 

“No.” Agnes says once more, more firmly. Defiant. Determined. Memories of the people she held dear in life flashed through her mind. 

She thought of her wonderful parents, full of warmth and passion. She thought of her sweet little brother, a feisty fiend with a courageous soul. She thought of her protective older sister, aloof and cold yet shined with a heart of gold.

“No!” Agnes shouted out defiantly, causing some of the slightly more skittish fish people to back off. 

She thought of her once loving boyfriend, even from afar in both time and distance, she could still remember the warmth left behind on her shoulder where his hand clasped.

Agnes closed her eyes.

“You’re really wonderful, you know that?” He says quietly, the winds ruffling his messy blonde hair as he glanced at her with vivid green eyes that brightened brilliantly like a sunny sky.

They were watching the star-lit night sky together, on the roof of his family’s house. She glanced down humbly, her cheeks blazing a scarlet hue, “I did-I did what anyone would do. I can’t just let him bully the guy like that!”

He grinned proudly at her, gently squeezing her right shoulder and his warmth lingered even after he let go, “And that’s great! I’m just amazed you actually managed to make him back off. We all know how much of a stubborn ass he was.” 

She sighed softly and nodded her head, conceding his point, “I still couldn’t believe it. Me? Standing up to the biggest bully baddie in school?” She shook her head, snorting disbelievingly, “I still thought it was a crazy dream.” 

He chuckled bemusedly, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into a side hug as he nuzzled into her hair. Relaxing in his embrace, she snuggled closer to him as she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart thumped loudly with soft beats.

He then murmured into her ears, his tone so soft yet so burning, “If you asked me, you’re a dream come true.” 

“That’s so corny!” She laughs, taking in his warm scent. Spice and sugar, passionate and sweet in all the right doses, “Am I that sort of crazy dream to you?” 

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” He grinned enthusiastically back at her as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, “And I won’t have it any other, Agnes.”

Agnes opened her gold-freckled grey eyes, ablaze in brilliant starlight. 

“NO!” She screamed defiantly into the void, a supernova of shining radiance bursting from her very being. 

The explosion of bright light briefly illuminated the darkened waters, revealing an endless and empty sea of navy blue. The marine animals and corals were nowhere to be seen.

The resulting blast sends the monstrous fish demons careening away back downwards into their void, freeing Brooke and the mermaid from the horde as they were the only ones unaffected by the light. 

Curiously enough, a few of those same fish demons strayed at the bottom, eyeing them warily. Had Agnes known to pay attention, she would have noticed that one of them in particular was staring at her intently from the depths. A pair of blackened orbs that flared brightly, not in malicious fury, but with hope of redemption. 

But the Abyss has no mercy, not a moment of respite to consider what that means. At least, not for her. 

Black, rusted chains sprung from the darkness below, slithering through the blackened waters too quickly for Agnes to react. She felt the chilly metal made contact with her skin, wrapping around her legs in a vice grip. 

She could only make a brief eye-contact with the other two, even with the brief moment of dim lighting, and saw the horrified expressions on their faces. The mermaid was pale as snow and seconds before screaming, and Brooke...

The stress and terror that marred the seal pup’s tear-stricken muzzle was heartbreaking.

With no hesitance, a split-second decision made. 

Agnes reached out both her hands and shot two bolts of holy light aimed at the two, setting the mermaid and seal pup alight in sanctified luminosity. She couldn’t see their reactions, never noticing how that same individual fish person dashed into a beeline as he joined the two into the light. She smiled contently in her ignorance, regardless. 

They’re safe, back in the waking world and that’s all that matters to her. 

She closed her eyes as more black chains wrapped around her body like a snake. Entrapping her, leaving her no other ways to escape except to break free, and even that’s nearly impossible on its own. Just like the Death Curse she was subjected to.

The black chains then abruptly yanked her down, feeling the rush of water bubbles coursing all over her body as it dragged her down deeper into the Abyss. 

Darkness was all she knows.

It stopped?

The black chains that once wrapped around her whole body remained limp, sinking downwards until it loosely hangs around her legs. They never moved, not even a hint of its usually malicious intent. 

Agnes opened her eyes to see absolute pitch-black darkness. She couldn’t even see anything, not even her hands. All she knows was that she was floating in an abyss as deep as the sea trenches, silence pervading the blackened waters like an incoming plague to her disturbed ears. 

Despite the fact that she could technically conjure up her own light, deep inside, her gut was not letting her to do so. 

How deep did she go? Never mind the fact that the water pressure would have already crushed her whole body at this depths in reality-

A broken heart, oh wishing star

Her hope shattered in the waves

Agnes jerked back in shock at the melodious words being sung from nowhere and in all directions, her already stressed out paranoia reaching its brink at the presence of whatever was lurking in the dark, watery depths.  

The waves swished and splashed, her eyes once tinged with longing blackened into despair as they glanced on land above water.  

For those lost themselves in the depths,

In light and shadow and the forgotten year

Bubbles streamed out of her open mouth, her breathing uneven. There was a heavy pressure on her beating, achingly constricted by thorny vines. Agnes doesn’t understand, but somehow, she felt as if she should have known. For what reason, she doesn’t know.

All those hopeful moments, their hopes, their dreams, the memories of what had been and the possibilities of what could have been. 

A distant soul, none so burdened

 His love no longer in the seas

There were petals of light that bloomed radiantly in her sight, contrasting so deeply within the void of blackened waters. Enchanting, alluring, swishing back and forth like fireflies buzzing under a moonless night.

The ground creased and cracked, his arms firm and tender as they held another lover within his grasp. 

However, Agnes remained rooted in spot, floating stiffly in the water. She even backed away slightly when of those little lights drifted far too close for her comfort. 

For as long as he breaths,

In air and water and the forsaken earth

Never had he once looked at the waters with even a hint of guilt.

Despite their luminescent beauty, the longing to touch what was there in the dark, for Agnes, they felt cold. 

Empty. Sterile. Isolation. 

They will never be together 

She never had a chance. 

An emotionless swarm that surrounds their mistress who peered into view, a feminine silhouette floating gracefully in the Abyss. Her naked skin a radiant navy hue and her impossibly long hair fanned out into the blackened waters, each strand a never-ending extension into the void. 

It was in that moment Agnes realized where the song had came from, for the woman turned to her with parted lips and a wide smile as sharp as her hollowed glare, eyes an endless shadow like the depths she was trapped in. 

Together as they danced,

Droplet of black tears fell from the sky.

She sung out loud and the little motes of light surrounding her flickered into nothing, leaving the inhuman female remained as the only source of radiance left.

In her madness and his joy,

Envy and fury swirled and churns, the waters choppy and menacing .

Bitter cold that seeped into her chilled bones was all Agnes could ever understand in her frozen mind, as the woman smiled wider ever so slightly at her. 

Their storm shall reach the shores

The tidal vortex consumed the land, an eternal maelstrom that left nothing but the remains of a broken heart. 

She disappeared, fading into the darkness. 

Agnes shivered quietly in the silence, her mind on overdrive. 

This was no longer just a nightmare. This was a warning. 

An omen of a disaster.

She needs to wake up-

A hand gripped her shoulder. There was no physical sensation to be felt nor was there any warmth, only the shadow of what should have been there but no longer was. 

No matter how much Agnes wanted to pull away, she couldn’t.

“Gaze into the abyss,” She whispers into her ear, her voice sharp and foreboding and a tinge of mania, “And the abyss stares back at you.”

An unnatural compulsion pressures Agnes to look down into the deep, dark depths. The motes of light returned, but this time... 

Illuminating a monstrous behemoth of an eye staring back at her.

Though her mathematics may have not been the best, she blankly estimated the size of the eye to that of her whole body judging from the distance between them thanks to the light provided.  

It was only then Agnes realized upon looking closely that those little lights weren’t really shining orbs floating in the water but rather, bioluminescent bulbs attached to the top of semi-transparent tentacles that were on the bare edges of visibility. 

The appendages were connected to a much bigger mass enshrouded in darkness, a serpentine body larger than Agnes has ever seen in her life as it spans out downwards into an endless watery void. 

Fear was a feeling she knew all too well, and the lack of a lantern in her hand was a striking reminder that burns like blazing charcoal on her terrified mind.

Even with the woman behind her and the black chains wrapped around her legs, she was nothing more than a trembling ant awaiting to be crushed into bits by the titanic beast that laid before her.

“Can you understand what I desire, Maiden?” Her smile was a siren’s song, loud and alluring and Agnes just wants to know what was going on. 

The sea monster shifted its serpentine mass to her direction, its crowd of bulbous glowing tentacles flared ever so slightly. Two behemoth eyes, windows to an unfathomable navy abyss, pierces through her stilled and fear-addled body. 

“What we desire?”

The Beast of the Trench opened its maw and roared.

The abyssal sea quavered and deafened in the wake of it’s unholy roar, as it lunged towards Agnes with the sight of endless rows of serrated fangs being the last thing she’d ever saw. 

Trapped within its jaws, the Beast savagely feasted on the bodily remains of its  prey, bones crushed and organs spilling out into the blackened waters as the woman’s mad laughter echoed throughout the void...

Agnes abruptly opened her eyes, her chilled lungs gasping and heaving for air. 

Rising up from her bed quickly, she placed one hand on the middle of her sternum to soothed her rapidly beating heart while her other hand frantically reaches out for something on the bedside table.

Smooth metal made contact with her hands and warmth rushes all over her body. The albino woman took in a big breath before exhaling in relief as she felt the comforting ring handle in her grasp, the light within the lantern shining brightly in response to her distress.

After a moment of silence and focused contemplation in the fact that she’s breathing on land once more, Agnes swallowed a nervous lump as she finally digested the dark implications of her latest dream. 

Skittering over to the side of the bed, she let out a soft hiss as her feet made contact with the cold floor. It did not take long for her to quickly decide bringing along her blanket covers with her when her exposed skin met the piercing sting of the chilled air. 

Sinking into the abyss, no end in sight, forever lost in the dark-

With the blanket cover hung over her shoulders like a protective shroud and her hands holding the lantern that provided warmth within it, she brisk walked out of her designated room and into the dimly lit corridors. Her mind undergoing tunnel vision on one location in mind.

Darkness, claws, eyes, I-no, focus!

By the time Agnes had regained conscious notice of her surroundings, she already stood before the door of the one person who had to know what was going on. Even if the aching heart hammering in her chest begs her not to.

Her gold-freckled grey gaze stared intently at the aged wooden door, randomly specific thoughts surged through her mind.

Baggy eyes from stressful nights, unkempt white hair that she should have tied up into a pony tail and cold-induced rash patches that sticks out on her pale skin... She should’ve placed more care into herself. He would definitely admonish her if he saw-

No, he won’t care. Lost memories were as fickle as the death curse that chained her down.

Shaking her head, Agnes threw those unnecessarily hurtful thoughts away. There were far more alarming matters that he has to know and her own feelings were not a priority at the moment, as she hurriedly knocked on the door with a clenched fist. 

She heard the muffled reactions behind the door, his confused exclamation followed by another person huffing in irritation. With a jolt of mortifying realization, Agnes could not stop the burning shame burning in her cheeks. 

How could she forget? 

Before she could flee however, the door swings open and warmth flowed out from the room. 

There stood a tall fair-haired young man, looking stylishly charming as always. Despite the rather simple green-toned pajamas he wore, his posture remained impeccably balanced like a noble prince.

That part hasn’t changed. 

“It’s late at night here, what do-”

Frustration was immediately dispelled from his blinking eyes, a deep green as vivid as iridescent emeralds, upon taking in the sight of Agnes’ ragged form. Eyebrows raised upwards into his disheveled blonde bangs, he tilted his head in concern. He raised his hand up, seemingly as if to reach out to her, but then hesitates in his movement and reluctantly backed down. 

Her right shoulder suddenly felt cold, and it’s not from the frigid air of the hallways. 

Agnes swiftly gazed downwards, numbly noting his floppy slippers. The same type of footwear that she brought for him as a present for Christmas two years ago, which had elicited tears of joy from him as he hugged her in a lovingly appreciative embrace. 

A sentiment that was no longer shared between them.

“Agnes?” The way her name rolled off his tongue felt so foreign, so very unfamiliar, like pinches of sea salt dusting on a scabbed wound, “What’s wrong?”

Behind him stood a woman with black hair that flowed down in curly waves and chocolate brown eyes that sparked in passion, clad in a red sports tee and grey pants. The brief traces of exasperation left on her face melted away into wide-eyed worry.

Agnes gripped the handle of her lantern tightly. She had to tell them, of the threat, the warning that rang soundly in her mind.

“I had another dream.” 

The woman, whose name was Gabrielle, Agnes recalled in a twinge of frustration, gasped in horror and covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Her other hand reached out for his stilled hand, their fingers lacing together protectively in a natural embrace.

Agnes swallowed a bitter lump.

Knowing him, he would have cracked a joke or two at her expense like pointing out about her being bundled in a giant mass of blankets or something else to ease the tension before they could start on anything serious-

“Where is it located?” He demanded softly, the crinkles around his green eyes tightened and brows furrowed in a serious demeanor. Whatever left of his supposed light-hearted mirth was absent in his stern gaze. 

Agnes closed her blurry eyes, a burning sensation that floods behind her eyelids.

“It’s at Palomedian Island.”

Done! :D