Going off how the Humans are Space Orcs and “Humans bond with anything despite obvious danger” that annoys the rest of the alien crew, think about them being introduced to earth oceans
After all it’s common to have to always remove their human from unknown likely dangerous life forms despite constant protests and that they were only “playing”
they start to notice that their human never really speaks of their earths sea creatures, which makes sense as the humans organs aren’t equipped to survive in that environment despite being able to “swim” (it is a common theory discussed that humans could survive if given no option to otherwise as that’s what they always seem to do)
curious and nervous, a rookie of the crew, decides to ask (the veterans have learned not to ask about earth as it always ends in confusion and horror)
Only to be told that “they aren’t really sure”, in human speak this can mean many things. One is that they never looked, another is that they were honestly telling the truth.
Confused, they ask again as surely the species that does everything to fulfill their curiosity would surly know what fills 75% of their surface?
Only to be told of creatures that are the length of their ship with a jaw just as wide. Of creatures that glow to attract and trap their pray. And that there was never a pod that was created could withstand the pressure of deepest depths. Or if it could, the visual feed would always disappear within rows of jagged teeth. And that are only the stories that have been proven. There are stories of the old ages, of creatures that could drown you with the sound of their voice, of things only seen in the shadows with a glimpse of sharp teeth.
Humans don’t go in the ocean, they learn. Humans that are made of iron and steel, known to bond with anything, and a curiosity that defies all known logic don’t dare to explore the depths of their own planet.
The crew learn that the only thing to terrify their human are the creatures that lurk in the oceans of their own earth.
Everything must seem tame to them compared to the monster planet that they call home.
And suddenly, things make sense.
Sometimes, I get the feeling that I can actually succeed. I get this feeling when the usual thoughts stop for a bit. You know what I’m talking about, the comparisons to everyone else that seems to be doing even 1% better, the fear that nothing I do will ever amount to something, the idea that I’m just one insignificant drop in the gigantic ocean we call human existence. When they stop, I can see myself being comfortable. Not necessarily famous, not necessarily rich, but comfortable. Comfortable with the life I’m living, no longer feeling like I’m drowning but being able to float, maybe even swim. I don’t always come to these good thoughts on my own. Sometimes, they come after I find myself thinking about people like you. People like you that have things going on underneath the surface no one would know about unless they chose to turn off their filter and tell them. People like you that refuse to surrender regardless of how tight life’s hands seem to get around their throat. I can’t help but admire that, the desire to survive, pulling yourself through the days when all you can see is darkness in hopes of eventually finding the light. It’s thanks to people like you that sometimes, even if only for a little while, I think I can make it too.
Nani!!! (^w^) I loved her so much as a kid (still do)! There is just something special about this powerhouse of a young woman, whom would do anything for her tiny family. The love she has for Lilo is so strong that I could not leave the poor sweety-bell out of this manip.
PS: Me doing a young mermaid was most likely a one time thing! There is simply too little material to work with. :,(
getting drunk in costa del sol and buying a surfboard despite not being able to swim (aerith)
taking selfies, the office style (nanaki).
being relieved of cooking duty because no offence, your cooking is basically toxic waste (cloud).
leaving weapons all over the floor, causing someone to trip or stub on them in the morning (yuffie).
always taking a longass time in the shower and come on, we’re drowning in filth here! (tifa),
avoids watch duty at all costs and bargains with taking anything else bc lack of sleep does unspeakable things to them (cid).
constantly stops by towns’ gift shops and buying souvenirs, no matter how weird (barret).
breaking into old songs whenever the others aren’t there, but being overheard regardless (vincent).
documenting every detail about their quests, no matter how mundane or pointless or who would care that one time they all slept in one room and someone got stabbed with vincent’s gauntlet, another snored so loud the others couldn’t get a wink of sleep until dawn, another hogged all the blankets, another got kicked in the face, another kept complaining about the heat all night long, another offered to summon shiva to shut them up (reeve).
Born with the black mark, the dark tail, smeared with a dirty white underbelly, a powerful, thrashing limb, Credence was immediately abandoned at birth.
In his world, in the fantastic, imperfect society that he’d been born into, his birth was an omen of danger, the boy himself deemed as a threat to their peaceful living. As such, he was left, moments after his birth, ditched in an open sand shallow, reef sharks encircling the young with dark, piercing eyes. Having thrashed around, able to swim, though poorly, right after being introduced to the cruel reality he was facing, Credence’s pale, thin skin broke open and seeped a reddish liquid into the water, thick and viscous, flowing in magnificent ribbons from his wound. The first animal to strike had only done so because it smelt the spill of blood, body churning so rapidly, so swiftly, that there was nothing the infant could have done to avoid the attack. The blow never arrived, the teeth never sank in, and instead a body presented itself as a barrier and defended the young man. Gnashing an array of sharp, serrated teeth, the boy’s saviour growled menacingly at the encircling group of reef sharks, a thick, tough tail of a shark swishing in a threatening motion behind him. Outcast had saved outcast, for what else were they to do for one another.
Credence was raised in an unorthodox manner for his people, transient, never staying in one location for longer than a month, constantly fleeing persecution, having to live in a world that did not want him. The one who had prevented his death, only minutes after his own mother abandoned him, was condemned simply for the fact that he was born with the tail of a shark. Having survived on his own, the vagabond shark lived on the edges of reality, damned for being different, hated for the way he was born despite the fact that he could do nothing about it. It was all explained to Credence when he was of age to comprehend.
In his world, the oceans, the water, society was sculpted by merpeople, by their traditions, customs, beliefs, even if they were outdated and critical. The orca and the shark were two of the condemned deities, and anyone born with their tail was to be killed, essentially what Credence was left for. Raised by an often aggressive, temperamental, and condemned guardian, Credence’s childhood was rough, nearly nonexistent considering the hard realities he was forced to see at such a young age. His life was difficult to say the least, and it was only made worse by the death of the only other he’d ever known. The day he found his body, sunk, bloodied, gnawed on by scavenging fish after facing against a fierce traditionalist that had simply wandered upon the shark, was the day Credence lost a part of him.
The images of the corpse would still haunt him, mostly in sleep, and he would retain the scars of the past mentally just as he did physically. For a few days, mourning the loss more than anything, Credence simply swam around in circles, his tail, scarred with multiple gashes, claw marks, all self inflicted from when he damned himself for being born with the tail of an orca, flicking in the water anxiously, pondering uselessly as to what he should do. In the end, the young man, having just become 18 a few weeks earlier, simply swam off with no direction in particular, searching for a reason to live.
—- 4 Years Later —-
Heavy boots sank into the shallow sandbar, water splashing up and wetting Graves’ pant legs. The man shook his foot from the wet and took a hard step forwards, gait awkward in the unstable sand, but determined nonetheless. Percival shook the sweat from his hair, running a rough hand through the damp locks, greying in some places to his annoyance. He squinted, turning back to the ship and horizon, the sun’s glare glinting brightly in his dark eyes. Behind him, gruff ship hands anchored down the ship, sinking the iron deep into the warm waters. Stomping unto the beach, feet leaving large boot prints in the white sand, Graves swiveled his neck, taking in his surroundings. It was here, he decided, that they would make port for at least the next couple nights.
As a cartographer by trade, buccaneer by personality and hobby, Graves was given the task to map out the islands in the more remote areas of the Caribbean by the trading company he worked for. The task was mutually beneficial, getting Graves out of the way of business, since he usually was around begging for an offshore assignment, and also allowing the man to sail as he seemingly always yearned for.
A deep breath of salty air enthralled the man, scenting not only the ocean, but the vegetation of the thick jungle ahead of him. A knowing smirk played across his lips and he huffed, lifting his feet from the sand and trudging forwards, into the lush greens, pulling out his cutlass, making a short, shrieking sound, and hacking at the inhibiting vines. He’d make his way around the island alone, returning to the crew only when he was satisfied with his venturing. No one objected.
Credence swam lazily along the shallows, following a small school of fish that skirted the edge of the shoreline. He’d been attracted to this island over and over, enticed by the small river that flowed out from the island’s center. At times the young merman would thrash his way up the shallow waters, spraying water in all directions as he powered against the currents, and gawk at the jungle and the odd creatures it held. Credence had known the inhabitants of the water all his life, and to him, it was the land that proved to be the most interesting. Humans were at the top of such list.
In the four years since living completely alone, Credence had seen many ships, odd, floating vessels that carried humans, and observed them from afar, piqued by the way that humans looked so much like he did. Yet, he never dared to try and communicate or even show himself to them, fearful of their reaction to him. If even his own people would refuse to love or accept Credence, how was he to expect compassion, sympathy, or even pity from another race? Instead, he watched the people on the ships at night, observing their silhouettes in the dark, finding what he assumed to be the males more interesting than the rare females he saw at sea. Humans were interesting, violent creatures. Credence had seen more than enough cruelties by humans, the murder of he fellow sea creatures in ruthless, bloody manners that had always left him shaking in terror and unable to sleep for days. Whales, sharks, thousands of fish, and even the occasional dolphin fell victim to the evils done by the humans, and everytime he saw a travesty, too frightened, too weak, to help, his heart broke. Yet, despite all of the death that surrounded the land-dwelling species, they also possessed an intense intellect and emotion that the exiled merman saw from afar. He’d seen humans mourn their own kind, and even other kinds of creatures in rare occasions, seen them joyous, distraught, hopeless, hopeful, and all emotions in between, and their dynamics drew his attention whenever they were present. Thus, it was rather surprising when Credence had not noticed a human that would soon impact his life greatly.
Percival had been trotting the shallows for a few hours now, wet, sweaty, tired, but still not finished. His cutlass sat at his hip, sheathed, wiped clean of plant tissue, but ready to be pulled out a moment’s notice. Graves watched the small fish flit about the water to his left, tiny, shiny bodies glimmering in the falling light. Suddenly, a large, flash of black streaked across his vision. Reflexes fast, trained to be so, Percival’s arm reached for the sword, yanked it out, and stabbed at the water all in a moment’s notice. A soft, painful ‘thunk!’ sounded, and Graves knew he’d struck something before he had even seen it.
Something sickeningly painful streaked up Credence’s tail, all the way from his fluke to his back, spreading through his body like a poison, and then returning to sting more than anything before right at the base of his black, leathery tail. A shrill, piercing scream sounded from him, raising above the water as he pushed himself up on his forearms and tried to see what had caused the pain. The stab did not register to him until he saw Graves’ cutlass embedded deep in his flesh, passing through and keeping the young merman in place in the shallows. Tears arose in his eyes, usually invisible in the water, but now blending with the sea water and dripping down his face. They came out of pain, of fear, of confusion, but mostly because of the burning sensation that set his tail afire despite being underwater. The black, shoulder-length locks of hair clung to Credence’s face and neck, an odd sensation since it was almost constantly in the water, but he barely registered it in comparison to the throb and sting that cascaded around him endlessly. Rather than more screams, his throat sounded with garbled whimpers, short wails, and general cries of confusion and pain. He wondered, for a brief moment, why he had been saved at birth if his life was only to throw hate and violence and suffering at him.
Dark red streamed from the location of Percival’s sword, the shiny metal now stained red, blood flowing freely from the wound he had made in the creature. Despite having seen the black tail, immediately thinking Orcinus orca even though orcas would not survive in such warm waters, Graves had no clue what he was looking at the moment he saw Credence. It did not take long though, for the man to discern that he had captured a merman, a creature thought to be non existent, mythical, until the moment he saw one. While a wash of pity and regret came over the captain, even greater was the voice that shouted for him to leave the thing in the shallows where Graves could easily take it captive. Mind muddled with excitement, confusion, denial, and a melangerie of sympathy clashing with self-interest, Graves left Credence to writhe and leaped through the water to pull the boy from the water and out on the beach where he could at least examine the thing better. He did so, yanking the thrashing figure so that its upper body lay upon the sand, breathing hard, still sobbing, whining pathetically, and its bloody, twitching tail, still pierced with the cutlass, anchoring him down.
“P-P-Please! T-T-Taa-Take i–it o-ow…out!” The cry was begging, Credence’s throat speaking in the air for the first time, creaky and broken, but working nonetheless. “M-Maa…Make it st-st-stop!”
A moment of hesitation washed over Graves, and he knew he must decide. Would he remain ruthless, domineering, without repentance, over this bewildering discovery, though it seemed to be but a young man gifted with a tail, or would Percival take back what he’d done and show all the compassion and regret that he was holding back? It was a quick choice, and he yanked the cutlass free, tossing it away, and immediately placed his hands over the wound. Halting the wailing of the injured and instead getting his attention. Their eyes locked, but nothing was said, Percival’s fingers hard against the fleshy, bleeding wound, and Credence’s face red, eyes sad, and lips swollen from biting them so much. None moved, or spoke, but they remained entranced by one another for a multitude of reasons.
“I’m…I’m sorry…Let me help you. I’m sorry…” The voice cracked, throaty, low, and not belonging to a man that was ruthless, only one that could pretend to be so.
2700 meters for a successful Masters swim
I love being able to go back and forth between morning and evening sessions because there are 2 coaches who have 2 different emphases; one is a triathlete and one is a long (like miles upon miles) distance swimmer. This means that I can get some good feedback on form and technique and new drills. Long distance coach likes to name drills after participants so I’m sure I’ve got one coming.
Today was an 1:10 on the bike. Love the light frame and the seat was easy to break in as well. Can’t wait to take it off the trainer and get on the road!
Ravenclaw / Leo Sun / Capricorn Moon / Scorpio Rising aesthetic
having restless energy, showing people how much you really care, laying in the middle of the road in the dead of night, long hot summer days, hopeless romantics, golden sunsets, finally being able to sleep after an exhausting day, swimming at the beach, seeing your favorite band in concert, calligraphy pens, buildings that look like old castles, soft hearts and electric souls, the smell of acrylic paint, songs that remind you of good times, always being early or late but never on time, staying up till 3am during summer, drinking coffee from your favorite mug, falling asleep with your hair still wet from your shower, entering every experience with an open mind, never looking back.
Thomas can’t swim. He had never learned how to swim nor had he ever cared about learning. But now he was going on a swim vacation with his friends, who don’t know about him not being able to swim. So in secret, he’s gonna take private swimming lessons. His instructor’s name is Robert Lewandowski, an incredibly handsome man who never fails to distract him from what’s important
Exert from my
fic Proceed with Caution. I’ve been wanting to share this scene for
such a long time, but my dumb ass forgets I have finished updates and
shit, so here’s this as a sort of promo since I’m so behind on
posting chapters for this one pft
you’re okay with this?”
Gintoki replied and though his voice sounded normal, there was
something in the way he was watching the water that made Hijikata
He wanted to say
something, maybe offer Gintoki another way out, but he bit his
tongue. If he hovered too much, Gintoki could get tired of him or
think he was annoying. He also didn’t want their night together to
end too soon, so that was another reason he kept his mouth shut. He
said a lot of really stupid shit when he let himself overthink things
and Gintoki was only just starting to open up to him, he desperately
didn’t want to mess it up.
So me and my friend were in a Skype chat and we had an idea. A parody of Free: Iwatobi Swim Club where all the ships are cannon. Just imagine:
Nagisa trying to convince his boyfriend Rei to join swim club with him so they can spend time together. Rei eventually caving and joining because he loves Nagisa too much to say no any longer
Nagisa struggling to be supportive of Rei not being able to swim. Rei loving him anyway
Rei and Nagisa study dates
THE MAKOHARU FLUFF
Makoto literally living with Haru
When Makoto pulls Haru out of the tub he kisses him
Makoto being concerned about Haru’s friendship with Rin/Haru’s depression and giving him emotional support and reassuring kisses
Rin and Nitori roommate cuddles
JOKES ABOUT WHO’S ON THE TOP BUNK
When Sousuke shows up Rin’s all torn between his adorable roommate and childhood friend. Nitori gets upset and distant but Rin’s oblivious to how Nitori feels. Then finally Nitori tells Rin that he thinks Rin’s gonna leave him for Sousuke and Rin’s all like: NO BBY I WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU I PROMISE D:
You know what this glorious creation would be called?