#THE CETACEAN EYE THING IS HERE

[namu-the-orca]

Here it finally is, the full cetacean eye colour info sheet! A long time coming, and an even longer time in the making. I hope that all you cetacean eye curious people will find this one as fascinating as the killer whale eye colour post. It’s a wild world out there! 

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Overview of mermaids

Many people who’ve been my followers for a while will already be familiar with Prince Ahti II. To those who don’t, here he is! The silly man in my profile picture:

Ahti II is one of my characters, and a merman. He’s a part of a bigger urban fantasy universe, one which I don’t talk about very often. Until now! I like reading others’ ideas and concepts and there must be others like me, so I have faith that perhaps my writings will entertain or inspire others. Here I’ve compiled my various thoughts and ideas about the merfolk of Ahti’s world, an overview of sorts! I try to summarise everything the best I can, but as you’ll see it is a bit hard, I have many thoughts and I’ll have to delve further into history and biology at a later date. 

Memaids, mermen, mersons, or collectively merfolk or merple are humans whose ancestors were transformed into half-animal people some 10 000 years ago by a race of nonphysical beings. On the surface they’re half human upper body, ~three-quarters aquatic animal lower body, and are held together by a whooole lot of magic! Any biological weirdness is explained by the fact that they’re two incompatible parts desperately trying to make it work with compromises that are sometimes unpredictable — functionally they are a human shaped like another thing, with all-human DNA.

Merfolk have organs in both their human and animal halves. The heart and lungs are located in the upper chest cavity (the human chest) and are larger than in the average human. The esophagus is greatly elongated, and leads to the animal half where the rest of the digestive system, and the urinary and reproductive systems, is located in. The lower chest cavity contains a pseudo-heart that helps pump blood into a larger body. All merfolk have an internal skeleton throughout their whole body, even invertebrate-based merfolk. As an adaptation to the dim light of their environment, the eyes of merfolk are more sensitive to light and their pupils can grow and shrink very drastically.

Near the mid-back, aka just about where the two sides join together, fish and (many) crustacean merple have gills, and cetacean merple have a blowhole. What for? For second lungs! These lungs are connected to the upper chest lungs and allow cetacean merfolk to hold their breath for extended periods of time. Merfolk that take after fishes with swim bladders also have a similar lung-swim bladder connection, which is mostly used to control buoyancy — moving air to the upper lungs aids a merson in floating upright, for one. Sorry other aquatic tetrapod merfolk, you don’t have second lungs (…as far as I’ve decided) but I’m sure you can make do!

Due to their adaptations and limitations, merfolk tend to live underwater, in fresh, brackish, and saltwater environments. Merfolk settlements tend to be built in shallower water: most settlements are built in the first 50 meters from the surface, and their frequency dwindles down significantly after a 100 meters of depth. Merfolk prefer the warmth and light of the surface, humans as they are! Some merfolk-found, mostly underwater nations exist, all of them in shallow seas and in and around large archipelagos, but a good portion of merfolk live on the coastal areas of mostly terrestrial nations and in inland waters. In the open ocean, many nomadic merfolk communities exist too: they tend to migrate with fish schools and herd their own aquatic livestock, like fishes, krill and squids. 

Underwater merfolk homes are large to account for their large size, and often very tall. In places where the surface of the water freezes over at some point in the year, many homes have one or a few topmost rooms that reach above water and function as a secondary exit and as a way to reoxygenate the water. Some merfolk homes are suspended above the water on stilts or on the shore with an underwater entrance, but the homes themselves are fully or half dry inside. These homes tend to be very low and wide instead! These are common in merfolk that need air to breathe. Between these solutions are homes that are partly submerged and partly dry at different ratios, common in so-called hybrid living conditions! 

Merfolk as a whole are one of the most magical of all humans, having a lot of magic in their DNA and using a lot of magic in their daily lives. This is in part from necessity, as life underwater is very different from life on land. Contemporary merfolk tend to know at least four spells: waterspeak, lungspeak, return to form, and two-legs spell. Waterspeak allows a person to speak clearly with their vocal cords underwater, without needing to waste air from their lungs. Waterspeak is of valuable use underwater, but makes a person’s voice inaudible in the air! This is why there’s lungspeak, which creates the opposite effect and lets a person.. well, audibly speak like a in real life person lmao

The two-legs spell rearranges the organs of the merson and transforms their lower body from the human waist down into a pair of human legs. The upper body doesn’t really change in any significant way (…besides the lungs and heart becoming smaller and gaining new organs and bones and muscles) so the eyes are still tuned to see better in darkness etc. Return to original form reverses any physical transformation to the way a person was born, merfolk use it to go back to their tailed form! 

The most glaring issue in the life of a merson is the fact that your body is adapted to swimming and diving, but the majority of people live on land. Even semiaquatic merfolk tend to have trouble walking great distances! Fortunately, there are solutions besides staying in your underwater or amphibious living community for your entire life (because that’s not a solution at all). One is the aforementioned two-legs spell! A major pro is that you gain two fine long distance walking legs, two cons however are the drastic transformation that must take place to become two-legged, and then learning to walk, run, crawl, jump, sit, anything and everything. Two-legs isn’t a painful spell, or even physically uncomfortable to bear. It’s just that… well. The merfolk body isn’t built as simply as head-arms-torso-tail, it’s really head-arms-torso-pectoral fins-torso-pelvic fins-tail, all parts working together and important with movement, expression and item manipulation. When a merson loses so much of their body and way of interacting with the world it is emotionally and mentally draining! Many merfolk do not want to go through the trouble of losing a big part of themselves. 

Fortunately going on land as they are isn’t impossible! The upper chest cavity lungs are big enough to support merfolk just by themselves, and merple rarely, if ever, grow too heavy to exist on land. Fishy merfolk tend to have a slime coat, but on land as the slime coat dries and flakes off, the skin begins producing similar oils to the ones human skin has. Rapidly moving from water to air to water to air can cause damage overtime (eg. cracks and wounds in the skin, loss of scales), but effects can be lessened with moisturiser. Getting around on land is as easy as having a merson-fit wheelchair!

…The cons are just about the same as they would be having a wheelchair in our contemporary world, sadly. Most spaces are big enough for even a long merson in a wheelchair to pass through as humans on average are just bigger, but that doesn’t fix every other issue. Merfolk have a lot of societal pressure to change their form into a two-legged one instead of using wheelchairs, since it’s viewed as more convenient and less expensive — even transforming and using a wheelchair fitted for two-legged human is viewed as a better option. A good bit of merfolk are taught to walk on legs from an early age “just in case”, because they might just need it. 

Enough of merfolk tragedies. Let’s talk merfolk joys! Traditional merfolk art is heavy on sculptures, dance and singing, three-dimensional art so to speak. Traditional merfolk cuisine meanwhile provides a diverse selection of meat from finfishes, shellfishes, cephalopods and aquatic mammals, supplemented with algae, fruits and underwater domesticated crops. Merfolk never stopped cooking and frying foods when they turned, but a lot of "bonkers" old meals can be served raw. Traditional celebrations vary a lot based on location and the seasons, but they encompass similar themes to terrestrial celebrations, like harvest. Ice covers melting in the spring to let in light and warmth is a big thing in the northern hemisphere, and fish schools seasonally migrating to a community's home area also calls for a great feast.

As magical and technological advancements have changed the world they live in, painting, drawing, and the use of instruments have gotten more common in the arts, and terrestrial cereals and vegetables in food. The gradual introduction of terrestrial delights into the aquatic world has birthed its own unique cultural quirks. One example is a niche genre of music where a merson plays a wind instrument with only the air in their lungs as long as they can, birthing a whole new form of short folk tunes when instruments started becoming common. Just about anything has been waterproofed physically or through magical means, so in the modern day there is very little difference in a terrestrial and aquatic person's quality of life.

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby; Anti-Valentines Day

a/n: This takes place some time after Part 11 in my mind.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin X reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 500 ish

Summary: Jake and Kisses make plans for their first Valentine’s Day.

Masterlist

“So what do you want to do for Valentine's Day?” It is mid January and Jake's words startle you as you gaze at him across the table, sipping your morning coffee.

“Valentine’s Day is an over-commercialized Hallmark Holiday,” your response is deadpan and Jake looks offended. 

“You love hater.” Jake’s accusation makes you laugh. 

You roll your eyes. “I don’t hate love, I love love,” you reply, “I’m a love lover, just not around other people.”

“We were literally on a date in public last night.”

“I know, but Valentine’s is a whole other can of worms.” You wave your hands to elaborate. 

“And now she compares my love to worms.” Jake shakes his head morosely. “My heart can't survive this.” You laugh and kick him gently under the table.

“You know what I mean,” you sigh. “We’re out for dinner and the couple at the next table is getting engaged and all I can think is how I would have to murder you if you proposed to me in public.” 

Jake’s eyebrows raise at that, ”you’d murder me?”

“I like to think of it as justifiable homicide,”  you take a deep breath and continue. “Anyway then there is the couple that gets in a fight and breaks up and she throws her drink in his face, and I’ll spend the rest of the night thinking, ‘did he deserve it or was she dramatic?’”

Jake is staring at you bemusedly. “And what about the couple on a super awkward first date?” You ask him. “The one where the guy brings an outlandishly large bouquet of roses and all I can think is ‘what is he compensating for?’” Jake laughs but you keep talking before he can interrupt.

“Then there is the couple that is playing tonsil hockey next to us the whole time. Are they challenging us to some kind of breath holding competition to see who is the better couple?”

“We are clearly the superior couple.” Jake says with confidence.

“I mean obviously, but they won’t know that unless we exhibit the breath holding abilities of a cetacean.” You sigh dramatically. “I just feel like everyone will be judging us.”

“No one will be judging us.”

“Are you sure?” You grin at him, “Because I’m judging them and if they are not judging me in return it makes me judgmental.”

“You are judgmental.” Jake is smiling back at you.

“Oh,” you pause, “I’m really sorry you had to find out this way.” Jake just laughs.

“Do you want to just spend it together here?” Jake asks. “We can cook dinner and just hang out. Netflix and Chill.”

“Sounds perfect.” you smile at him and take a sip of coffee. “You’re the only one I want to see anyway.”

“Does that mean you don't want me to buy you anything?” Jake wants to make sure there is no miscommunication.  

“Definitely not,” you confirm. “What we should do is buy chocolates and things the day after Valentine’s when they are 50% off.”

“I thought you were against over-commercialized gifts?”

“I am, but I love chocolate and sales,” you shrug, “and this way I can get twice as much chocolate.”

“I’ll buy you all the chocolate you want but you are only getting a single rose,” Jake says with a wink. 

[dragonskulls]

so I saw bidnat’s post about MudWings and that inspired me to do something similar but with the coast AshWings, to at least start giving a clearer picture of what they look like. Basically they are spiky and bastard rip off seawings. Obviously I couldn’t show the variety in markings or shapes or colors, but this gives a good overall view of the basics. I plan to do this with the other quivers, with similar simple black and white style, and if my writing is hard to see, click the image or ask away!

Hehe so basically here’s some stuff that I said in the drawing plus some extra things under the cut (if there are typos here or in the drawing im going to die)

-their coloring is most commonly grayish or very washed out blues, although browns or other similar colors aren’t rare

-they have very good night vision, and their nictitating membrane protects their eyes when attacking. They also have sclerotic rings in their eyes that provide structure when diving in deeper waters

-their front talons aren’t webbed, unlike the back ones, but both have very resistant pads, a vestigial trait from early FrostWings

-their speared tongues are around double the length of their heads, and very useful when catching prey or even in claw to claw combat. It works as an unholy fusion of a goose’s tongue and a chameleon’s, being able to shoot it out it very rapidly and pierce it’s objective with it’s hard barbs. i do not know how they can still speak normally lets just leave it at cartoon logic

-their tales are flat and kinda broad (think of a moray eel) and so their spines are also flatter compared to the other quivers’ spines. The ones at their back are bigger and make some sort of sail like mini spinosaurus

-a few of them have barbs in various parts of their bodies, most commonly in their limbs, torsos, backs and tails. These can bristle and make them harder to attack to bigger foes such as other dragons or sea snakes. A very small percentage of them can have toxins (based on how catfish also have barbs)

-they have sonar like cetaceans, which is used to navigate and locate potential prey or threats. They can also use ‘’whale songs’’ to communicate short and simple messages to each other over large distances, as up close they use sign language or throaty noises like growls, although the latter form of communication can also only be used for very basic phrases. Their songs sound similar to an actual whale’s, but not quite the same, being more ‘’gravely and deep’’

-they can drink saltwater, as their systems are built for processing all the excess salt, but they still prefer to drink fresh water when available

-they also have a very good sense of smell because sharks

-something VERY important is that quite a few of these traits aren’t completely homogeneous in their respective quivers. For example, one individual may have the paddle shaped tail, but no barbs or fin tissue, while another has the barbs but slightly rounder and shorter wings, plus an unusual set of whiskers on their snout, something that barely any other coastal ash wing has

[heckling-hydrena]

ok ok I'm just gonna throw out some possible dren fursonas Hear Me Out.

dragon obviously you saw this coming. I have thought about this one EXTENSIVELY. the only one I've tried drawing even though I can't get the head shape down properly and I just. hid the legs. here's the sketch:

so many influences for this thing. it is painfully obvious that my favorite httyd dragons were the skrill and the stormcutter. seabird inspiration (gannets mostly), eland horns but pointed forwards instead of back. caribbean reef shark eyes. not sure on the pattern this thing will have but definitely fish-esque. tiger shark leopard shark striped marlin mackerel we'll figure it out. definitely dark blue palette w light underbelly. storm powers also because that's awesome. SMOOTH like a cetacean (they have a lot going on biologically)

2. ok now real animals. fossa. they have little freak faces and so do I. they can't decide if they're weasels or cats which is very relatable to me.

3. lynx. I like cats and my dad always liked calling me a wildcat/lynx because I'm a prickly little asshole. they are shaped so weird and I admire it. why are their legs like that. some of their vocalizations sound like drunk 20 year old women which is so awesome

4. wolverine. I mained a wolverine when I played cereal soup (rip) and I've always thought they were cool. so small and so angry. but very friend shaped! wish I could give one a hug but I will refrain.

5. hyena. yeah you saw this one coming too. little ehehehehe creatures. have you seen those images of spotted hyenas with a winter coat. that's me

6. bengal cat. got this one as a result on a uquiz and everyone needs to have a domestic cat sona so why not

7. wolf. to indulge my middle school self. if they knew I preferred felids and mustelids now they'd be sooo mad

[covingtons]

transcript under the cut

[MATILDA]: This is so dumb

[MATILDA]: We literally never eat in here! It’s so… medieval looking

[ADELINE]: It’s technically the formal dining space [MATILDA]: And that’s STUPID!

[MATILDA]: Why are we pretending to be some formal happy family when we just aren’t?

[ADELINE]: He’s probably just trying to make a good first impression Tills, and we should too

[ADELINE]: At least he didn’t make us dress formally

[MATILDA]: I’m wearing tights Addie. TIGHTS!

[ADELINE]: Just shut up and sit down, I hear them coming. Stop rolling your eyes and be nice!

[HARRISON]: Oh good, you girls are already here. I would love to introduce you to Elaine Reed; my girlfriend

[ELAINE]: It is such an honor to finally meet you ladies. Your father has had the best things to say about you two

[ADELINE]: It’s nice to meet you too, Elaine. Please, take a seat and tell us a bit more about yourself

[ELAINE]: Of course! I’m an open book. I work for a nonprofit that helps preserve and protect marine life across the world, but I specialize in research surrounding whales and dolphins

[MATILDA]: So you like… fish?

[HARRISON]: Whales and dolphins are cetaceans Matilda, not fish

[ADELINE]: That’s so fitting with Brighton’s marine life being so diverse! I’m sure you’ve had ample opportunity to study while you’re here

[MATILDA]: *under her breath* Why are you talking like that?

[ELAINE]: Your father has been incredibly generous with setting me up with some of Brighton’s finest and brightest in the field and I’ve been able to make some real progress

[MATILDA]: Bash likes turtles

[ADELINE]: Oh yes! You’ll have to tell Bash all about your findings, I’m sure he would love that

[ELAINE]: I have some colleagues who are much more knowledgeable on sea turtles than I am, but I would love to share with him what I do know

[ADELINE]: That's wonderful! Papa, do you mind if I steal you for a moment?

[MATILDA]: *under her breath* Don’t you dare [HARRISON]: Right now?

[ADELINE]: It will only take a moment, I promise

[ELAINE]: So Matilda, do you like school?

[storm-leviosa-fanfics]

Fic Rec List

Third time's the charm, or so they say. Here's another fic rec list.

When in gotham: don't drink the water by @wesslan

This is pretty much crack but in the absolute best way. Gotham's tap water causes some...weird side effects when consumed by humans except no one told Tim that. He's doing his best ok?

My Eyes Are Fitted With Prison Bars (series) by TheFloof (@floof-writes)

neurodivergent yj! love this so much the vibes are impeccable. Tim and Bart have a super sweet relationship here, sharing all those nd traits and I just have loads of feelings.

Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans by Lilac_hyacinth

soft TimBer for the soul! Tim's alone at another school event and Bernard is a good comforting boyfriend (except they're not boyfriends yet shhhh). feat. good dad Bruce, Dana trying very hard, Tim being a photographer, all that good stuff.

Got Stepped on All Over by whaleofatime (@cetaceans-pls)

I have this fic saved as 'fics I would make fanart of if I could draw' and I am Right. It has all my favourite things but most importantly HORSES. Also just like...restores my faith in humanity a little it feels very real in a way I cannot quite explain. (Bruce and Dick race across Mongolia to stop an epidemic which suprisingly does not remind me of covid)

library card by mikkal (@wrencatte)

God I am obsessed with this fic. Libraries deserve all the appreciation and this fic has it in spades. I loved outsider POV fics sometimes and this is a perfect example of a really really good one. If you love Jason loving books and public libraries this fic is for you.

Consultation Work by Mouse_in_this_house

Feral core four, Jason trying his best, Tim being Tim, there is nothing I do not love about this fic. Really good at identifying the strengths and weaknesses of everyone based on their experiences and personalities which I Love.

An (almost) Foolproof Lie by HiddenDreamer67 (@hiddendreamer67)

Secret identity shenanigans + Tim joins the family early = god tier fic

(Tim, in a fit of youthful idiocy, tells Batman Bruce Wayne is his guardian. It all works out...eventually)

Declensions by dustorange (@dustorange)

You know when you think you know a character's origin story and it doesn't need to be told again? Yeah so I would trust dustorange with every character's done to death origin story after reading this. It's Dick Grayson like you've never seen it before and I love it.

miles and miles (in their shoes) by JUBE514 (@jube514)

Sometimes you need a bit of a shove to overcome your differences and Tim and Damian need even more than that. These kids are SO FUCKED UP but this fic is so sensitive about it and it's beautiful.

Black-Clad Bats and Making Money by Gray_Days (@cineresis)

That one fic about the Riddler if he were played by John Mulaney. I'm not normally a first person POV kinda person but this is the exception it is hilarious and also somehow relatable? idk what that says about me.

[ambitiousauthor]

Kasha and Delaney: Chapter 1

I am for sure going to lose my job over this.

Let’s go over some quick facts, shall we?

Fact number one: My name is Delaney Rodriguez.

Fact number two: I work at an ‘Aquatic resort’ called Sea Friends.

Fact number three, I am about to do something illegal. Like, felony-level illegal.

A dark fin as tall as I am slices through the water like a knife. There’s a weight behind my throat when it vanishes.

Let’s go over some more facts, shall we?

Fact number three, the illegal thing I am about to do involves smuggling a four ton cetacean out of the front gates.

How am I doing this?

Magic.

Specifically, a spell I found while doing some wikipedia deep dives last week.

The Orca- Kasha- spyhops the best she can in the too shallow pool, looking at me as though she knows why I’m here.

I take a deep breath, and start reciting the words.

It feels like ants start crawling under my skin, biting and tearing, but I keep going, clouds parting in the dark sky until the moon shines into the water like a spotlight.

When the last words leave my throat, Kasha the orca is gone. No more orca. I fold up the Wikipedia printout and shove it in my pocket.

If I did that right, she’ll be in the ocean by now.

I’ve done a good-

Something just moved. A massive, pale hand- easily the size of my head- gripping the barrier between me and the pool.

One solid, fluid movement later, and a massive, soaking wet, wall of muscle tenses in front of me, staring at me like she’s guessing how I’ll taste.

“Soft-tooth.” That voice is haunting, like the old myths of sirens off the coast of Greece, luring sailors aplenty to their deaths. It reaches into my bones, pulling out fear.

She whistles, a high pitched, shrill noise of irritation, which finally gets the point across that she is talking to me.

“Yeah?” My throat is dry, voice scratchy from nerves and adrenaline.

“Soft-tooth is..” She pauses, tugging back a hank of kelp-dark hair from her face.

“Scared?” I manage to squeak.

She raises an eyebrow. “Not right noise.”

“Are you.. Kasha?” I ask.

A whistle of irritation. “Kash-aa?”

“Yeah, there was a killer whale-“ a shower of water hits my face. She’s holding another handful, black eyes narrow. “Not whale”

“Ok.. does orca sound better?”

Her head tilts, sending muscle rippling down her neck.

“Better.”

“Are you an orca?” I ask. I have to know. Did that stupid Wikipedia article actually work?

She reaches up, scowling at her hands, then pushes long, dark fingernails past her lips. “Yesh” she says around them. “No shoft-teef.” She takes her finger out of her mouth and smiles.

Oh god, that’s an orca, I just turned four tons of dolphin into a 6 foot something wall of muscle with opposable thumbs, I am SO going to lose my job.

She vanishes under the water, then reappears on the other side of the pool a minute later, right next to the beaching slab used in the orca shows.

She pulls herself out of the water.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

She’s out of the water, she can walk, what have I done?

What will I do?

I can’t exactly put her in my Prius..

Notes:

- Kasha’s exact height is 6 feet and 7.6 inches!

- this chapter hasn’t been edited yet :,)

Taglist:

@thestuffedalligator, @residents-of-the-darkforest, @salty-squid223

[feeshies]

Voyage of the Nautilus: The Gulf Stream pt. 2

Trying my hand at live-reading even though I was bad and read ahead. But this chapter hurts and I need to yell about it.

“Sir,” he told me that day, “it’s got to stop. I want to get to the bottom of this. Your Nemo’s veering away from shore and heading up north. But believe you me, I had my fill at the South Pole and I’m not going with him to the North Pole.”

I like Ned putting his foot down lol. Big "this party's going on for way too long, I'm calling the Uber" vibes.

“I keep coming back to my idea. We’ve got to talk to the captain. When we were in your own country’s seas, you didn’t say a word. Now that we’re in mine, I intend to speak up. Before a few days are out, I figure the Nautilus will lie abreast of Nova Scotia, and from there to Newfoundland is the mouth of a large gulf, and the St. Lawrence empties into that gulf, and the St. Lawrence is my own river, the river running by Quebec, my hometown—and when I think about all this, my gorge rises and my hair stands on end! Honestly, sir, I’d rather jump overboard! I can’t stay here any longer! I’m suffocating!”

Ned :((( This chapter is so anxiety-inducing and you can feel the dread. Also "When we were in your own country’s seas, you didn’t say a word. Now that we’re in mine, I intend to speak up" is such a good line.

I had a sense of what he was suffering because I also was gripped by homesickness. Nearly seven months had gone by without our having any news from shore. Moreover, Captain Nemo’s reclusiveness, his changed disposition, and especially his total silence since the battle with the devilfish all made me see things in a different light. I no longer felt the enthusiasm of our first days on board.

Aronnax :((( Nemo :((( I wonder if Aronnax's homesickness was amplified (or rather unlocked) after hearing one of the crewmen speak French during the devilfish fight. Everyone's depressed on this submarine.

You needed to be Flemish like Conseil to accept these circumstances, living in a habitat designed for cetaceans and other denizens of the deep.

Except for Conseil, who seems to be fine just chilling. Is this a Flemish stereotype? Should I be side-eyeing Aronnax?

Truly, if that gallant lad had owned gills instead of lungs, I think he would have made an outstanding fish!

I still think this line is super cute. I wish someone would say I'd be an outstanding fish.

“But I rarely encounter him. He positively avoids me.” “All the more reason you should go look him up.” “I’ll confer with him, Ned.” “When?” the Canadian asked insistently. “When I encounter him.” “Professor Aronnax, would you like me to go find him myself?” “No, let me do it. Tomorrow—” “Today,” Ned Land said.

Ned "either communicate with him or just dump him already!" Land.

I entered. The captain was there. He was bending over his worktable and hadn’t heard me. Determined not to leave without questioning him, I drew closer. He looked up sharply, with a frowning brow, and said in a pretty stern tone: “Oh, it’s you! What do you want?” “To speak with you, captain.” “But I’m busy, sir, I’m at work. I give you the freedom to enjoy your privacy, can’t I have the same for myself?”

My anxiety is off the charts. I also love how short and abrupt his sentences suddenly get. It makes the encounter that much more tense.

Aronnax saying they "were miles apart" ;-; Turns out the 20,000 leagues was the distance that grew between him and Nemo this whole time.

“Here, Professor Aronnax, is a manuscript written in several languages. It contains a summary of my research under the sea, and God willing, it won’t perish with me. Signed with my name, complete with my life story, this manuscript will be enclosed in a small, unsinkable contrivance. The last surviving man on the Nautilus will throw this contrivance into the sea, and it will go wherever the waves carry it.”

Only during my second reading did I realize that this is essentially a suicide note. Oh fuck. Then Aronnax going "👀 I wanna see that manuscript..."

The exchange between Nemo and Aronnax was brutal and tense, holy shit. You can feel Aronnax's anxiety and frustration and Nemo's impatience. The chapter they spent trapped under the ice wasn't as suffocating.

“Ned Land can think, attempt, or endeavor anything he wants, what difference is it to me? I didn’t go looking for him! I don’t keep him on board for my pleasure! As for you, Professor Aronnax, you’re a man able to understand anything, even silence. I have nothing more to say to you. Let this first time you’ve come to discuss this subject also be the last, because a second time I won’t even listen.” I withdrew. From that day forward our position was very strained.

I don't like it when they fight :(

But the skies became more and more threatening. There were conspicuous signs of a hurricane on the way. The atmosphere was turning white and milky. Slender sheaves of cirrus clouds were followed on the horizon by layers of nimbocumulus. Other low clouds fled swiftly. The sea grew towering, inflated by long swells. Every bird had disappeared except a few petrels, friends of the storms. The barometer fell significantly, indicating a tremendous tension in the surrounding haze. The mixture in our stormglass decomposed under the influence of the electricity charging the air. A struggle of the elements was approaching.

It's so cinematic aaaa. I love the way the weather matches the tension inside the submarine. Not the optimal weather for an escape, but I think Ned is in "I don't care if the price surge is 200%, I'm calling the Uber!" mode.

[gaviicreates]

Crafty Collabs + FO: Slouchy Home for Enki

Hello fellow crafters!

This week I bring you a finished object, and it's actually one I finished not just once but twice. How does that happen? Because the first time I was unhappy with it so I frogged the whole thing.

To Frog (verb) - to rip it, rip it, rip all your completed work out to fix a problem or to change the design. Usually comes with tears and a side of time-out for the project while the maker deals with the emotions involved.

I tell my friends all the time - give me something flat and I am golden, even with the most complex texturing. But as soon as you give me a shape, I am *so* out of my wheelhouse. :) So it's been a hell of a ride, getting this hat to Finished Object status.

~*~ So the story of this hat comes from a vision I had after receiving a special gift from a friend all the way across the world. For those of you that know me through my fandom blog, you know who Enki is and likely why I love dolphins (really all cetacean-kind). But for those of you who are new to my interests, dolphins have always just been a thing. When I was growing up, my coming of age stories were those of Madeleine L'Engle, and if you haven't yet read beyond A Wrinkle in Time, I recommend the YA novel A Ring of Endless Light, which has always been a huge inspiration to me.

Enki is an OC of the sea mammal world that has appeared in a few of my stories. I can't speak for @gumnut-logic for the why, but it means so much to me that something inspired her to create this beautiful piece. Check out her bead embroidery piece below.

So this lil dolphin made his way through the postal service, and once I received the gift, I knew I wanted to make something special to display the pin among my wardrobe. Crochet and Hats are both crafty things that have gotten us through the past few months, so it was a quick jump envisioning him splashing up from the brim.

I knew I wanted a colors to complement the work in the pin, and not take away from their shine, so I matched it to this grey hand-dyed colorway from Malabrigo's Arroyo line "Plomo". Once I had the brim selection, I picked a main color for the hat itself, and landed with a second colorway called "Kris" with similar greys and an array of sea greens.

For my first attempt at the hat I followed a pattern, and the hat didn't necessarily turn out wrong, but I decided I didn't like the way it fit - the brim was okay but could've been a bit firmer, and the looseness of the hat itself made the hat feel way oversized for my head. Within the pattern there was the suggestion to go up a hook size and I followed the instructions before deciding this particular design wasn't for me. I also had tried to do some striping that in the end disappeared within the second shade. It wasn't different enough to stand out, so I scrapped that idea with the second attempt.

Attempt 1: - Striping, Different shaping for the hat and the crown.

Here is attempt 2 in its final glory. Attempt 2 - Elongated hat for additional slouch, "winged it" on the crown. Bye Bye eye-grating stripes.

I think the changes really made a difference to the final look, and that's not just because of the good camera. The color variegations are better defined here, the grey of the brim ends up working better to complement since the "Kris" colorway already had grey intermingled and didn't need it added. I also am really liking how the slouch works this time. The stitches are crisper for one, but it also gives me the flexibility to fold the brim up if I want and then it will fit like a standard beanie.

The stitch I used for both the brim and the hat is the [US terms] half double crochet (hdc). Working into the front two loops gives you a third loop free in the back, and that's the design I decided to celebrate. The outside you see here is actually the inside as I crocheted in the round. I just turned it inside and out and made sure to weave my ends in on the opposite side.

As much as I hated having to frog, I am so happy now that I took that leap and gave myself time to think of the next game plan.

Pin Design: Gumnut Inspired Yarn Weight: DK Yarn Brand and Colorways: Malabrigo Arroyo in "Plomo" and "Kris" Hook Size: 3.5mm

[commiemartyrshighschool]

So, Extraordinary Attorney Woo.

I don't know enough about the disability landscape in South Korea to comment about certain aspects of the show, and frankly the idea of a perfectly representative show is something we need to reject out of hand, but I'm really most irked by two things.

Firstly, and more importantly, I can't find anything about autistic cast members or writers. The amount of information available in English is limited but a number of experts were consulted but no mention is made of any autistic individuals being consulted. Even if the market isn't there to have an autistic lead it seems that input from autistic people, or somebody in the writer's room, isn't that high a bar to clear.

This is objectively a flaw. If you want to tell a story centering on a type of person, you need the input of somebody who belongs to that class.

Secondly, there's brain blasts. Jimmy Neutron style. I ain't kidding.

Whale song sounds (cetaceans are the protagonist's special interest) and the wind blows the protagonist's hair back when she makes an important connection, often with CGI whales in accompaniment. I feel like part of my issue with it may be a cultural divide, I don't watch K-dramas typically so some of the editing choices could simply not be to my taste but I also feel like having a budget for high poly whales isn't optimal.

My issue here is more subjective, but I do think it is silly and somewhat disrespectful if not particularly harmful. Autistic minds do work different, but they don't work like super powers, Sherlock style mind palaces aren't really our thing. The show is more sitcom than legal drama which gives it a little bit of room for this stuff tone-wise, but the end result is I'm watching it with a critical eye towards representation rather than enjoying the show, which is not a winning formula.

[namu-the-orca]

What color are orcas' eyes?

In short, mostly brown. In long, it's a bit complicated as Killer whales (and for that matter, all cetaceans) have multi coloured eyes! Unlike us humans, who have a singular coloured iris and a white sclera, cetacean eyes come in more flavours. Their iris is circled by a pale ring of varying colour, and the surrounding sclera is more often than not coloured too, sometimes even bi-colored. I have actually been working on a cetacean eye-colour-chart thing so I have some neat illustrations ready.

Here you can see the components that make up a cetacean's eye. It should be noted though that when relaxed, the eyelids cover much of it, leaving almost only the iris visible. As an example: a Harbour porpoise (Phocoena phocoena). On the left a clear view of the eye in its totality; on the right as visible in life.

Onto the whale in question. All cetaceans have beautiful brown irises: in many it is an unbelievably rich reddish hue when sunlight hits it directly. In shadow or underwater it looks more subdued though. Then comes the pale ring which in Killer whales is quite variable: in some animals it is very pale, almost white, while others have beautiful bright blue rings. The sclera appears two-toned in blackfish as far as I've seen. Killer whales have a rather modest dark brown area of sclera around the iris-pale-ring-combo, with the surrounding "base" sclera reddish pink. For comparison, False killer whales (Pseudorca crassidens) have a bit more substantive dark brown sclera area, with the surrounding sclera a striking bright red.

I hope this answers your question! This makes me want to finish this chart haha so maybe that'll come soon-ish in its totality.

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

20k Leagues under the sea, Jules Verne

part 2 chapter 4-5

CHAPTER V THE ARABIAN TUNNEL

That same evening, in 21° 30′ N. lat., the Nautilus floated on the surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast. I saw Djeddah, the most important counting-house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India. I distinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the quays, and those whose draught of water obliged them to anchor in the roads. The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses of the town, bringing out their whiteness. Outside, some wooden cabins, and some made of reeds, showed the quarter inhabited by the Bedouins. Soon Djeddah was shut out from view by the shadows of night, and the Nautilus found herself under water slightly phosphorescent.

The next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several ships running to windward. The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation; but at noon, when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to her waterline.

Accompanied by Ned and Conseil, I seated myself on the platform. The coast on the eastern side looked like a mass faintly printed upon a damp fog.

We were leaning on the sides of the pinnace, talking of one thing and another, when Ned Land, stretching out his hand towards a spot on the sea, said:

“Do you see anything there, sir?”

“No, Ned,” I replied; “but I have not your eyes, you know.”

“Look well,” said Ned, “there, on the starboard beam, about the height of the lantern! Do you not see a mass which seems to move?”

“Certainly,” said I, after close attention; “I see something like a long black body on the top of the water.”

And certainly before long the black object was not more than a mile from us. It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea. It was a gigantic dugong!

Ned Land looked eagerly. His eyes shone with covetousness at the sight of the animal. His hand seemed ready to harpoon it. One would have thought he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in its element.

At this instant Captain Nemo appeared on the platform. He saw the dugong, understood the Canadian’s attitude, and, addressing him, said:

“If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, would it not burn your hand?”

“Just so, sir.”

“And you would not be sorry to go back, for one day, to your trade of a fisherman and to add this cetacean to the list of those you have already killed?”

“I should not, sir.”

“Well, you can try.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ned Land, his eyes flaming.

“Only,” continued the Captain, “I advise you for your own sake not to miss the creature.”

“Is the dugong dangerous to attack?” I asked, in spite of the Canadian’s shrug of the shoulders.

“Yes,” replied the Captain; “sometimes the animal turns upon its assailants and overturns their boat. But for Master Land this danger is not to be feared. His eye is prompt, his arm sure.”

At this moment seven men of the crew, mute and immovable as ever, mounted the platform. One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those employed in catching whales. The pinnace was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea. Six oarsmen took their seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller. Ned, Conseil, and I went to the back of the boat.

“You are not coming, Captain?” I asked.

“No, sir; but I wish you good sport.”

The boat put off, and, lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards the dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus.

Arrived some cables-length from the cetacean, the speed slackened, and the oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters. Ned Land, harpoon in hand, stood in the fore part of the boat. The harpoon used for striking the whale is generally attached to a very long cord which runs out rapidly as the wounded creature draws it after him. But here the cord was not more than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached to a small barrel which, by floating, was to show the course the dugong took under the water.

I stood and carefully watched the Canadian’s adversary. This dugong, which also bears the name of the halicore, closely resembles the manatee; its oblong body terminated in a lengthened tail, and its lateral fins in perfect fingers. Its difference from the manatee consisted in its upper jaw, which was armed with two long and pointed teeth which formed on each side diverging tusks.

This dugong which Ned Land was preparing to attack was of colossal dimensions; it was more than seven yards long. It did not move, and seemed to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture.

The boat approached within six yards of the animal. The oars rested on the rowlocks. I half rose. Ned Land, his body thrown a little back, brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.

Suddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong disappeared. The harpoon, although thrown with great force; had apparently only struck the water.

“Curse it!” exclaimed the Canadian furiously; “I have missed it!”

“No,” said I; “the creature is wounded—look at the blood; but your weapon has not stuck in his body.”

“My harpoon! my harpoon!” cried Ned Land.

The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain made for the floating barrel. The harpoon regained, we followed in pursuit of the animal.

The latter came now and then to the surface to breathe. Its wound had not weakened it, for it shot onwards with great rapidity.

The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track. Several times it approached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike, but the dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to reach it.

Imagine the passion which excited impatient Ned Land! He hurled at the unfortunate creature the most energetic expletives in the English tongue. For my part, I was only vexed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.

We pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I began to think it would prove difficult to capture, when the animal, possessed with the perverse idea of vengeance of which he had cause to repent, turned upon the pinnace and assailed us in its turn.

This manœuvre did not escape the Canadian.

“Look out!” he cried.

The coxswain said some words in his outlandish tongue, doubtless warning the men to keep on their guard.

The dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, sniffed the air briskly with its large nostrils (not pierced at the extremity, but in the upper part of its muzzle). Then, taking a spring, he threw himself upon us.

The pinnace could not avoid the shock, and half upset, shipped at least two tons of water, which had to be emptied; but, thanks to the coxswain, we caught it sideways, not full front, so we were not quite overturned. While Ned Land, clinging to the bows, belaboured the gigantic animal with blows from his harpoon, the creature’s teeth were buried in the gunwale, and it lifted the whole thing out of the water, as a lion does a roebuck. We were upset over one another, and I know not how the adventure would have ended, if the Canadian, still enraged with the beast, had not struck it to the heart.

I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared, carrying the harpoon with him. But the barrel soon returned to the surface, and shortly after the body of the animal, turned on its back. The boat came up with it, took it in tow, and made straight for the Nautilus.

It required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the dugong on to the platform. It weighed 10,000 lbs.

The next day, 11th February, the larder of the Nautilus was enriched by some more delicate game. A flight of sea-swallows rested on the Nautilus. It was a species of the Sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt; its beak is black, head grey and pointed, the eye surrounded by white spots, the back, wings, and tail of a greyish colour, the belly and throat white, and claws red. They also took some dozen of Nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavour, its throat and upper part of the head white with black spots.

About five o’clock in the evening we sighted to the north the Cape of Ras-Mohammed. This cape forms the extremity of Arabia Petraea, comprised between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acabah.

The Nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which leads to the Gulf of Suez. I distinctly saw a high mountain, towering between the two gulfs of Ras-Mohammed. It was Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of which Moses saw God face to face.

At six o’clock the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed, passed some distance from Tor, situated at the end of the bay, the waters of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by Captain Nemo. Then night fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by the cries of the pelican and other night-birds, and the noise of the waves breaking upon the shore, chafing against the rocks, or the panting of some far-off steamer beating the waters of the Gulf with its noisy paddles.

From eight to nine o’clock the Nautilus remained some fathoms under the water. According to my calculation we must have been very near Suez. Through the panel of the saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly lit up by our electric lamp. We seemed to be leaving the Straits behind us more and more.

At a quarter-past nine, the vessel having returned to the surface, I mounted the platform. Most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo’s tunnel, I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh night air.

Soon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half discoloured by the fog, shining about a mile from us.

“A floating lighthouse!” said someone near me.

I turned, and saw the Captain.

“It is the floating light of Suez,” he continued. “It will not be long before we gain the entrance of the tunnel.”

“The entrance cannot be easy?”

“No, sir; for that reason I am accustomed to go into the steersman’s cage and myself direct our course. And now, if you will go down, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is going under the waves, and will not return to the surface until we have passed through the Arabian Tunnel.”

Captain Nemo led me towards the central staircase; half way down he opened a door, traversed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot’s cage, which it may be remembered rose at the extremity of the platform. It was a cabin measuring six feet square, very much like that occupied by the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson. In the midst worked a wheel, placed vertically, and caught to the tiller-rope, which ran to the back of the Nautilus. Four light-ports with lenticular glasses, let in a groove in the partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions.

This cabin was dark; but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the obscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong man, with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel. Outside, the sea appeared vividly lit up by the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other extremity of the platform.

“Now,” said Captain Nemo, “let us try to make our passage.”

Electric wires connected the pilot’s cage with the machinery room, and from there the Captain could communicate simultaneously to his Nautilus the direction and the speed. He pressed a metal knob, and at once the speed of the screw diminished.

I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by at this moment, the immovable base of a massive sandy coast. We followed it thus for an hour only some few yards off.

Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two concentric circles in the cabin. At a simple gesture, the pilot modified the course of the Nautilus every instant.

I had placed myself at the port-scuttle, and saw some magnificent substructures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and fucus, agitating their enormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock.

At a quarter-past ten, the Captain himself took the helm. A large gallery, black and deep, opened before us. The Nautilus went boldly into it. A strange roaring was heard round its sides. It was the waters of the Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards the Mediterranean. The Nautilus went with the torrent, rapid as an arrow, in spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves with reversed screw.

On the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing but brilliant rays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by the great speed, under the brilliant electric light. My heart beat fast.

At thirty-five minutes past ten, Captain Nemo quitted the helm, and, turning to me, said:

“The Mediterranean!”

In less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the torrent, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez.

[20k-leagues-speedrun]

CHAPTER V THE ARABIAN TUNNEL

That same evening, in 21° 30′ N. lat., the Nautilus floated on the surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast. I saw Djeddah, the most important counting-house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India. I distinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the quays, and those whose draught of water obliged them to anchor in the roads. The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses of the town, bringing out their whiteness. Outside, some wooden cabins, and some made of reeds, showed the quarter inhabited by the Bedouins. Soon Djeddah was shut out from view by the shadows of night, and the Nautilus found herself under water slightly phosphorescent.

The next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several ships running to windward. The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation; but at noon, when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to her waterline.

Accompanied by Ned and Conseil, I seated myself on the platform. The coast on the eastern side looked like a mass faintly printed upon a damp fog.

We were leaning on the sides of the pinnace, talking of one thing and another, when Ned Land, stretching out his hand towards a spot on the sea, said:

“Do you see anything there, sir?”

“No, Ned,” I replied; “but I have not your eyes, you know.”

“Look well,” said Ned, “there, on the starboard beam, about the height of the lantern! Do you not see a mass which seems to move?”

“Certainly,” said I, after close attention; “I see something like a long black body on the top of the water.”

And certainly before long the black object was not more than a mile from us. It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea. It was a gigantic dugong!

Ned Land looked eagerly. His eyes shone with covetousness at the sight of the animal. His hand seemed ready to harpoon it. One would have thought he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in its element.

At this instant Captain Nemo appeared on the platform. He saw the dugong, understood the Canadian’s attitude, and, addressing him, said:

“If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, would it not burn your hand?”

“Just so, sir.”

“And you would not be sorry to go back, for one day, to your trade of a fisherman and to add this cetacean to the list of those you have already killed?”

“I should not, sir.”

“Well, you can try.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ned Land, his eyes flaming.

“Only,” continued the Captain, “I advise you for your own sake not to miss the creature.”

“Is the dugong dangerous to attack?” I asked, in spite of the Canadian’s shrug of the shoulders.

“Yes,” replied the Captain; “sometimes the animal turns upon its assailants and overturns their boat. But for Master Land this danger is not to be feared. His eye is prompt, his arm sure.”

At this moment seven men of the crew, mute and immovable as ever, mounted the platform. One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those employed in catching whales. The pinnace was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea. Six oarsmen took their seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller. Ned, Conseil, and I went to the back of the boat.

“You are not coming, Captain?” I asked.

“No, sir; but I wish you good sport.”

The boat put off, and, lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards the dugong, which floated about two miles from the Nautilus.

Arrived some cables-length from the cetacean, the speed slackened, and the oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters. Ned Land, harpoon in hand, stood in the fore part of the boat. The harpoon used for striking the whale is generally attached to a very long cord which runs out rapidly as the wounded creature draws it after him. But here the cord was not more than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached to a small barrel which, by floating, was to show the course the dugong took under the water.

I stood and carefully watched the Canadian’s adversary. This dugong, which also bears the name of the halicore, closely resembles the manatee; its oblong body terminated in a lengthened tail, and its lateral fins in perfect fingers. Its difference from the manatee consisted in its upper jaw, which was armed with two long and pointed teeth which formed on each side diverging tusks.

This dugong which Ned Land was preparing to attack was of colossal dimensions; it was more than seven yards long. It did not move, and seemed to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture.

The boat approached within six yards of the animal. The oars rested on the rowlocks. I half rose. Ned Land, his body thrown a little back, brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.

Suddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong disappeared. The harpoon, although thrown with great force; had apparently only struck the water.

“Curse it!” exclaimed the Canadian furiously; “I have missed it!”

“No,” said I; “the creature is wounded—look at the blood; but your weapon has not stuck in his body.”

“My harpoon! my harpoon!” cried Ned Land.

The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain made for the floating barrel. The harpoon regained, we followed in pursuit of the animal.

The latter came now and then to the surface to breathe. Its wound had not weakened it, for it shot onwards with great rapidity.

The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track. Several times it approached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike, but the dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to reach it.

Imagine the passion which excited impatient Ned Land! He hurled at the unfortunate creature the most energetic expletives in the English tongue. For my part, I was only vexed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.

We pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I began to think it would prove difficult to capture, when the animal, possessed with the perverse idea of vengeance of which he had cause to repent, turned upon the pinnace and assailed us in its turn.

This manœuvre did not escape the Canadian.

“Look out!” he cried.

The coxswain said some words in his outlandish tongue, doubtless warning the men to keep on their guard.

The dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, sniffed the air briskly with its large nostrils (not pierced at the extremity, but in the upper part of its muzzle). Then, taking a spring, he threw himself upon us.

The pinnace could not avoid the shock, and half upset, shipped at least two tons of water, which had to be emptied; but, thanks to the coxswain, we caught it sideways, not full front, so we were not quite overturned. While Ned Land, clinging to the bows, belaboured the gigantic animal with blows from his harpoon, the creature’s teeth were buried in the gunwale, and it lifted the whole thing out of the water, as a lion does a roebuck. We were upset over one another, and I know not how the adventure would have ended, if the Canadian, still enraged with the beast, had not struck it to the heart.

I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared, carrying the harpoon with him. But the barrel soon returned to the surface, and shortly after the body of the animal, turned on its back. The boat came up with it, took it in tow, and made straight for the Nautilus.

It required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the dugong on to the platform. It weighed 10,000 lbs.

The next day, 11th February, the larder of the Nautilus was enriched by some more delicate game. A flight of sea-swallows rested on the Nautilus. It was a species of the Sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt; its beak is black, head grey and pointed, the eye surrounded by white spots, the back, wings, and tail of a greyish colour, the belly and throat white, and claws red. They also took some dozen of Nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavour, its throat and upper part of the head white with black spots.

About five o’clock in the evening we sighted to the north the Cape of Ras-Mohammed. This cape forms the extremity of Arabia Petraea, comprised between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Acabah.

The Nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which leads to the Gulf of Suez. I distinctly saw a high mountain, towering between the two gulfs of Ras-Mohammed. It was Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of which Moses saw God face to face.

At six o’clock the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed, passed some distance from Tor, situated at the end of the bay, the waters of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by Captain Nemo. Then night fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by the cries of the pelican and other night-birds, and the noise of the waves breaking upon the shore, chafing against the rocks, or the panting of some far-off steamer beating the waters of the Gulf with its noisy paddles.

From eight to nine o’clock the Nautilus remained some fathoms under the water. According to my calculation we must have been very near Suez. Through the panel of the saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly lit up by our electric lamp. We seemed to be leaving the Straits behind us more and more.

At a quarter-past nine, the vessel having returned to the surface, I mounted the platform. Most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo’s tunnel, I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh night air.

Soon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half discoloured by the fog, shining about a mile from us.

“A floating lighthouse!” said someone near me.

I turned, and saw the Captain.

“It is the floating light of Suez,” he continued. “It will not be long before we gain the entrance of the tunnel.”

“The entrance cannot be easy?”

“No, sir; for that reason I am accustomed to go into the steersman’s cage and myself direct our course. And now, if you will go down, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is going under the waves, and will not return to the surface until we have passed through the Arabian Tunnel.”

Captain Nemo led me towards the central staircase; half way down he opened a door, traversed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot’s cage, which it may be remembered rose at the extremity of the platform. It was a cabin measuring six feet square, very much like that occupied by the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson. In the midst worked a wheel, placed vertically, and caught to the tiller-rope, which ran to the back of the Nautilus. Four light-ports with lenticular glasses, let in a groove in the partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions.

This cabin was dark; but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the obscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong man, with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel. Outside, the sea appeared vividly lit up by the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other extremity of the platform.

“Now,” said Captain Nemo, “let us try to make our passage.”

Electric wires connected the pilot’s cage with the machinery room, and from there the Captain could communicate simultaneously to his Nautilus the direction and the speed. He pressed a metal knob, and at once the speed of the screw diminished.

I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by at this moment, the immovable base of a massive sandy coast. We followed it thus for an hour only some few yards off.

Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two concentric circles in the cabin. At a simple gesture, the pilot modified the course of the Nautilus every instant.

I had placed myself at the port-scuttle, and saw some magnificent substructures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and fucus, agitating their enormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock.

At a quarter-past ten, the Captain himself took the helm. A large gallery, black and deep, opened before us. The Nautilus went boldly into it. A strange roaring was heard round its sides. It was the waters of the Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards the Mediterranean. The Nautilus went with the torrent, rapid as an arrow, in spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves with reversed screw.

On the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing but brilliant rays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by the great speed, under the brilliant electric light. My heart beat fast.

At thirty-five minutes past ten, Captain Nemo quitted the helm, and, turning to me, said:

“The Mediterranean!”

In less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the torrent, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez.

[caspercryptid]

Fake dating, vik and mel

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Okay we've got some kind of undercover work thing with the gang going here. Enjoy it! (9/15? I think?) ___ “Love, you’ve got a little bit of ice cream on your nose.” Mel says, lowering her eyelashes at Viktor.

“Oh, that’s inconvenient.” Vikor says, miming surprise. “I don’t suppose you could assist me, I don’t seem to have a handkerchief—”

Mel pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket, in the process accidentally dropping a little bug that she shifts to kick under the bench with her toe as she leans in to wipe Viktor’s face.

“Is this really how you two act on dates?” Vi mutters, over the earpiece, and is shushed.

“Camera’s lined up, thank you.” Caitlyn says. “Mel, I’ve got a blind spot on the other side of the park, by the dolphin statue.”

“Sweetheart.” Mel says, looking over like she’s just spotted the statue. “Look, a dolphin.”

Viktor’s lips twitch, like he’s trying very valiantly not to smile. “I do know how much you love Cetaceans.” He says, serenely. “Should we get a photo?”

“Oh my god.”

“Get off the line if you can’t keep your opinions to yourself, Vi.” Jayce mutters.

“Shut up, you’re just—”

There’s a click, and then Caitlyn says. “And it’s just me, now. No more commentary. Head over to the statue.”

Mel and Viktor head over.

“What was Vi saying?” Mel asks, looking at Viktor as though she’s just talking to him.

“Nothing important.” Caitlyn lies, audibly, and Viktor rolls his eyes a little, making Mel snort.

“Do you have the camera, love?” she asks.

Viktor makes a show of patting his pockets down. “I don’t seem to.”

Mel goes over to the statue and then fishes in her bag, pulling out a camera and casually dropping another bug as she goes and offers it to Viktor. He lifts it, takes a few careful steps back to take a photo, scoping out the park from behind the lens as he does.

“—Ah.” he mutters, spotting a suited figure in sunglasses at the other end. “I believe we’ve attracted some attention.”

“Fuck.” Caitlyn mutters. “I see him. See if you can make a scene for a minute, draw attention off yourselves. You’re about done, just. Make it casual when you leave.”

Mel lifts her arms. “Darling.” She calls. “Come back here.”

Viktor goes back to her, leaning in without hesitation, and not even tensing as she wraps her arms around him and kisses him. The whole world stops, shifts, goes on again, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been when Caitlyn says—

“Okay, he’s not— looking at you two anymore.”

Her tone’s a little odd, but Viktor doesn’t fully process that as he comes up for air.

“—good.” he says, half to no one at all. “Ah. Onwards, then, love?”

Mel takes his arm, without hesitation.

“I think we should be getting home.” She says, and viktor nods, once, twice.

“Yes.” he says. “I think we should.”

Fuck.

[keilemlucent]

tiles & released tension

(r18+)

gang orca | sakamata kugo x reader

continuation of this fic 

word count: 2.2k

the cycle of lust 

warnings: fem reader, monsterfucking, weird tongue, weird dicks, marking, mouthfucking, heat cycles, 

commission for @baroque-baby!!! thank u so much!!!!!!! 💗💗💗

a/n: wow here it is!! the second of the two comms :’’^) enjoy some more... Monster fucking esque stuff AND heat cycles!!!! enjoy y’all :’’^)

|||||||||||||||||||||

Despite how physically demanding the overall experience of Kugo’s rut was, you were well taken care of. Beyond that, even. He spared no expense, forgot no detail, and left no need or want unattended.

He was a dutiful lover despite his carnal hunger.

...

You vaguely knew when it was day and night. Your temporary home had large, arching windows and skylights that let sunbeams in to bend against the rippling pool. You knew when it was bright outside, though the exact time of day didn’t seem to matter much to Kugo or you.

That ‘morning’ (whenever you awoke, it was light outside), you’d woken up in the pool, tucked against Kugo’s chest in the lapping, gentle current of the water. It was always a bit scary, waking up being naked and half-submerged.

Yet, you were always mentally-reminded that no harm would come to you. Drowning? Absolutely not. Kugo was literally holding you. If any other danger entered a twenty-meter vicinity, you were sure Kugo would be ready to crush the threat instantly.

But, there were no threats. A peaceful courtyard that let in nice light during the evening with lots of pretty flowers and landscaping.

In some of your more fucked out and fucked up moments, arms braced against the wet tile as Kugo reamed you for the umpteenth time, you found yourself dazing off at the reflections and colors as you blinked back overstimulated tears.

Yet, that morning, you’d woken up without a writhing cock in you. Though it was close by and ever-hard, just as always.

“Mornin’,” You yawned, stretching to pop a kiss onto Kugo’s cheek. His chest rumbled out a sound too low for you to hear, a new, cetacean-based feature he’d developed over his rut. “Sleep well?”

“Very.”

Considered how much cum he spilled into you and the surrounding pool the night prior, he had to be exhausted, right?

To some extent.

He was a pro hero, with the stamina to match. Not to mention most of your days were spent in the pool of perfectly treated and temperate water, allowing Kugo to be in his most optimal state whether he was fighting villains or fucking your brain out.

You weren’t complaining.

Once again, dutiful.

Kugo adjusted you as he needed, a low growl pitching from his throat.

You ended up on your knees, skin scraping the tiles on the submerged bench below. It was a favored position, allowing the upper half of your body to be up and out of the water. Though you had, several times, gotten a mouthful or noseful of water due to Kugo breeding you (so fucking well) in the pool, it wasn’t preferred.

(Most of the time.)

Kugo rumbled as he floated in the water behind you, thickly-taloned hands coming to rest on your hips under the water, “You’re so beautiful in the mornings, you have no idea.”

He’d been waxing more since all of this started. In the moments he wasn’t insatiably worked up by his primal state, he was lavishing you in compliments and kindness as you’d never seen.

Kugo fished around in a nearby float basket, pulling away with a fancily crafted bottle of lube. It was a light lavender, oil-based, and heavenly smelling as he poured a bit of it on his hand.

Considering how long and sharp his nails had become, it was far too dangerous for him to prepare you like he once did.

Good thing his cock was tapered.

You could feel the bump of it against your ass, almost slivering against your hot skin under the water. Kugo slicked it down with the lube as he grabbed another item from the basket— a small bullet vibrator, waterproof and strong.

You beamed as he laid it on the pool deck by your arms.

“Am I allowed to use that?” You asked, keeping your voice teasing and sweet, still scratchy from sleep.

Kugo grunted another primal noise.

Consider it’d been several hours since he’d had his fill of you, he was bound to be insatiable. He tended to get a bit more... animalistic when he got so needy for you.

Social conventions had been mostly negated during the weeks of Kugo’s rut, it was a necessity. Not to mention that they were difficult to even think about with the distractions at your disposal.

The tip of Kugo’s cock, slick and squirming, teased as your entrance as he settled behind you, towering over your bent frame. The water sloshed around both of you, though neither of you minded.

You were far more focused on the way the appendage was teasing from your clit to your leak cunt without rest.

Laying your head on your arms, you arched your back at an even harsher angle, just barely grinding against Kugo as he prepared you as much as his cock would allow.

(It wasn’t entirely necessary considered how often he’d been stuffing you full— your cunt was practically shaped to him by that point.)

His chest bore down on your back, heat radiating off of him as he pressed you into the tiles and pool wall. You swallowed as his hand grabbed around your throat and jaw, pulling your head to the side so his long, (also) tapered tongue could lave along your shoulders.

“You always taste so good in the mornings,” Kugo spoke low and rolling. You squeezed your eyes shut, rolling your hips back to bump against his own.

As much as he fluffed you up verbally, you could feel how he was holding himself back from wrecking you.

His talons bit into the meat of your hips, his tongue licked its way to your ear, gooey saliva mixing with the water and sweat against your skin. His deep breaths, coming harsher each minute, made his chest bear down on your own, flattening you to the til, though not fully squishing you.

“Kugo,” You spoke in a singsong voice, grabbing the vibrator and flicking it on. “Why don’t you fuck me like you mean it instead of being polite? I thought we were past formalities.”

He went still, aside from the twirl of his thin cockhead at your entrance.

“I mean,” You were pressing your luck, but that was part of the fun. “I know you want to breed me so well that I leak all day, so why not get to it?”

You hummed, just for a moment, before Kugo was pressing you down, hard, squeezing the air out of your lungs in the best possible way.

“Is that really what you want?” Kugo growled, the sound shaking in several different pitches as he fucked into your cunt in one clean stroke.

You choked on your breath, scrambling against the wet tile as the vibrator slipped out of reach into the water.

Taking him at full length in one go wasn’t impossible, but the stretch of it all at once ached. His cock pressed and writhed in your cunt as he held his hips steady, shaking slightly.

You took a shuddering breath as his fat tongue rolled over your shoulders.

“How badly do you want to be ruined?”

If you could’ve melted into the water of the pool, you would’ve.

Part of you wanted to give one last fiery retort, but you were far too mushy to muster it up as Keigo thrust fully once more. He nearly bottoms out, you figure, considering the way his cock twists against your inside, pressing at your knot of nerves.

You moaned, lips parting and falling open.

Kugo greedily took the opportunity to further crane your neck, his thick tongue dipping into your mouth, snaking along the backs of your teeth.

You were caught up in it all, the sensations seemingly so fresh after sleep. Each new slam of Kugo’s hips, the taste of him filling your mouth, and the sounds of slapping water all felt magnified.

Whining, you bucked back into his thrusts, feeling the slow expansion of his cock inside you as Kugo grew ever closer.

His throaty laugh vibrated into your own mouth, the sound almost too loud for you to fully catch as your bones rang in your flesh with the tone He took your shock to push his tongue further, deeper into your mouth, licking at the back your tongue and molars.

It was almost too much, as oxygen became a luxury.

Except, Kugo grounded you easily, the hand on your hips and the pressure of his body above yours tethering you to reality as he fucked you in earnest.

Each slap of his body against your own ignited a new wave lust in your, slick spilling down your inner thighs and into the water. Your clit ached, helplessly ignored under the pseudo-surf. You didn’t have the mind in your to try and clamor for the lost vibrator, your mind swimming far too deep to think that far.

Instead, your ground back into Kugo all your could, your noises and moans dampened by the tongue throat-fucking you.  

He didn’t seem to mind at all.

You could feel yourself getting fuller and fuller, as impossible as it seemed. Kugo’s cock expanded as it neared climax, pressing at your walls before painting them white and sticky.

The grip on your jaw released, his tongue recoiling from your mouth as his head fell against your shoulder.

“How is this for ‘breeding’ you?” Kugo knew your asked, but asked anyway, chuckling at the way you desperately dripped for more of him.

You nodded, “Very, good. Very—”

Kugo’s pace became rougher.

His hand slipped under your, into the water to rub the meat of his palm into your clit in small, insistent circles. The nearby scrap of his claws only served to make you twitch and want more.

“P-Please, more!” You cried out, laying your head onto the tile as his thrusts got rougher, his teeth scraping and sucking at your neck, and his tongue soaking your skin—

And with a few final pressed of Kugo’s hand and you were coming undone for him in time with him absolutely filling you up.

It was filthy in the best possible way.

You sputtered out profanities as you came, Kugo’s hot seed spilling into you in thick, creamy spurts. The heat of it was almost scalding against the temperature of the bathwater.

Kugo kept a firm grip on you, despite the way how his skin had become so slick, fucking you through his long orgasm. It was something to do with his rut, but Kugo tended to spill into you not for seconds, but rather minutes.

It gave you time to come down as his fattened cock filled you.

You went pliant against the pool deck as another spurt of cum filled your core. Kugo was still in the throes of it, grunting every few moments and grinding into your insides. You weakly pressed back, shaking with your own breath.

Kugo’s hand pressed into your stomach, feeling the bulge of his own cock and cum filling you. The touch only strengthened your own sensations, the mix of it, and your full womb causing your eyes to roll back in your skull.

And then, it all slowed.

You were both still for a moment, the remnants of your movement told in the slosh of the pool and its harsh ripples.

Kugo gently turned your face to his, smoothing back some of your hair and dropping a few deliberate kisses against your cheeks, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, blissed-out and fucked out, “Very alright.”

It was all the response you could manage.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed as Kugo pulled out of you, an odd rush of water and fertile nut mixing below you. The absence of the stretch of his cock left you wanting.

But, Kugo was a dutiful mate, even in this state.

He carefully lifted you in his arms, carrying you out from the breeding pool to a nearby room.

It was one of the rooms you slept in, that of a handful of others. This one had a rounded ceiling and high windows, cream-colored walls and a large, water-proofed lounging bed.

Kugo gently set you down on it, grabbing a blanket-sized towel and wrapping you in it as fully as he could.

He tended to focus on your physical needs after fucking, especially when you two had been doing it so much. You’d never complain about how there was almost always a perfectly chilled water bottle in your hand and a bottle of massage oil at the ready.

Still, you wanted him—

That was why you were there, after all.

Kugo had stepped out, undoubtedly gathering up the supplies to tend to your body as he knew you needed.

You flickered your gaze to a nearby mirror, taking in your own visage.

Clearly, you’d been through the wringer. Dark circles punched under your eyes, your skin pruned from so long in the sweet-smelling water, and a smattering of rakes from Kugo’s teeth laid across your shoulders.

You looked like hell.

...

You smiled.

Kugo walked back in a moment later, just as you were standing up, wobbling on your jellied legs.

He was quick to wash to you, pulling you up against his slick body (as his cock began to re-harden again), “Sit down, love, please. I can get you anything you need.”

“You can,” You beamed up at him, craning on your tiptoes and pulling him down by his neck. “And guess what I need?”

He rumbled out a laugh, undoubtedly knowing where your words were going based on your suddenly tender affections, “And what's that?”

“You.”