in honour of the deltarune news im once again remembering my funniest memory of it which was opening the game unspoiled, entering my name as “chris” and then being absolutely fucking bewildered when the game told me I couldn’t make my own choices and would instead have to be called. kris
Petition to refer to TERFs as FARTs, which stands for Feminist Appropiating Reactionary Tranaphobe
“Trans-Exclusionary-Radical-Feminist,” when you think about it, is a VERY kind term. To be called a TERF is for the person to admit that they still consider you a feminist.
But what kind of feminist excludes so many women from their movement? If you hate so many women for what they are, you really don’t deserve to be called anykind of feminist, radical or otherwise.
Anti-trans people: Stop calling us terfs it’s insulting
fattyatomicmutant, about to coin a new term: ‘K
Feminist Appropiating Reactionary Transphobe is far far more accurate too.
ima just spread this
I’m legitimately going to use this, everyone hop on board, we have to do this
FARTs, unfollow me!!
I like this new term better. It accurately captures the implicit bigotry of excluding trans people while also not dignifying hateful people with the epithet “feminist”, which they do not deserve.
there was a brief period of time in lower school when I thought ducks, geese, and swans were essentially different evolutionary forms of the same pokemon
I think it’s hard, especially for those who were abused or neglected as children, to not internalize everything that happens to you as a personal failing, so here’s your reminder today:
Some things are beyond your control or influence. It is not always your fault.
Just because someone hurt you, doesn’t mean you deserved it.
Just because you did something wrong, doesn’t mean you need to be punished.
okay so as some of you know i wrote a trans little mermaid rewrite already. this is that same story, but with A LOT more content (haha 6k more aka almost twice as long as the first one) to hopefully be more true to real live trans girls’ experience, and not a magical world with shortcuts where everything is much, much easier
one million thanks and hearts and good things to @gemcuttlefish for all her helpful advice and ideas. this rewrite would not exist without her.
ok so here we go
~
when the mermaid athena marries king triton and becomes queen of the sea, there is a prophecy announced by the powerful sea witch ursula.
the king and queen will have seven daughters to represent the seven seas. athena names their daughters just then, her bridal crown still on her head. they will be named attina, alana, adella, aquata, arista, andrina, and ariel.
things do not go as planned.
the queen dies. ursula is banished and proclaimed a betrayer of the crown.
the seventh child is not quite as expected.
~
ariel is the youngest of triton’s children – the most treasured, the most coveted and protected.
ariel is triton’s only son, and the heir to the kingdom of the sea.
his mother had given him his name years before. the healers hadn’t had time to tell her that she had borne a son, not a daughter, before she died.
they all call him ari.
~
he is beloved. his eldest sister fawns over him, attina trying her best to be a mother to six children even though she’s barely a teenager. she may be queen on day – no one yet knows who will succeed her father, but she is the eldest, and clever, and not a bad hand at magic. she may be queen one day, and if she cannot comfort six mourning children, how will she rule a nation?
they have many nannies, people to make sure they are fed and dressed and bathed. but it is attina they turn to with their nightmares, their cries, and their hurts. it is attina who first forces ariel into their father’s hands. “he’s your son,” she says, desperately.
triton has been as affectionate as always with his girls, has embraced them and kissed their cheeks when they come to him sad and scared at the loss of their mother. but he has not yet picked up the child his wife died to give him. triton looks down at the small babe and says, “he has her hair.”
“and her eyes,” she says, “don’t you want to see mom’s eyes again? look into his, and you will.”
he heaves a great sigh and hold out his hands, something guarded and stony in his features. attina carefully places ari into them, anxiously watching as her baby brother breaks into a huge grin, grabs onto their father’s beard, and tugs.
she wants to scream. why couldn’t he have giggled or smiled or done something else adorable and lovable –
but triton’s whole face softens and he throws back his head and laughs, the first one she’s heard since their mother died. the sadness is still there, but as he gazes down at ariel, the first hints of true happiness peak through.
“he’s just like her,” he says, and when he looks up at her, she realizes she’s smiling too. she hadn’t done that since her mother died either.
~
ari is two years old, sitting in his father’s lap in the middle of a council meeting, when he topples forward and grabs onto the trident for balance.
“no!” triton yells, horrified, pulling him back even though it’s too late, even though one touch is all it takes.
but his son is unharmed. he’s not a pile of ash, he isn’t crying, there are no deep bloody wounds on him. instead ari reaches for the trident again, and this time no one tries to stop him. he bites it, liking the feel of cold metal on his sore gums as his teeth start to poke through. all that happens is a little spark of electricity travels up the trident.
the advisors are staring. triton has no choice but to make a public announcement.
prince ariel, the youngest of his children, is the chosen heir to the throne. there is no longer a question of succession.
the trident has spoken.
~
if this were normal circumstances, then the confirmation ceremony would commence immediately, and ariel would be named a regent.
but this is not normal circumstances. ari is not of age, is a baby who touched the trident by accident, who was named crown prince of the sea by accident. “we do not know how the trident will react to my daughters,” king triton objects, “perhaps it likes all my children equally, and it is simply ari who touched it first.”
“regardless, he has touched it and been declared worthy,” his councilman says, unimpressed. “let your daughters hold it then, and we shall know for sure.”
there’s a chilling fear up his spine, because if they are not so favored it may kill them. they are of the royal line and magic blood and it will not mean to, but there is a reason he himself did not hold the trident until he was a man.
this must all show on his face, because his councilman softens and says, “we shall move up the timetable from eighteen years old to ten years old. your two eldest daughters will attempt to hold the trident immediately, and each daughter shall attempt the same on her tenth birthday. then, if the trident chooses any or all of them, we shall know for sure who shall be declared regent on the day of their twentieth birthday.”
it’s a compromise, and one he doesn’t like, but one he must stomach. news of ariel using the trident as a teething toy has already spread even farther than the oceans, is being whispered about by the gods and spirits of the surface and the sky. “very well,” he says, pretending he has a choice in this at all.
attina manages a full five seconds with her hand on the trident before she releases it with a cry of pain, her palm coming away bloody. alana barely places her fingers against it before she pulls it back, shrieking, the skin where she touched it gone completely.
triton cleans their hands and heals them, kissing the wounds to comfort them. somehow, he’s feels like this is how each of his daughters will fair when the time comes.
he’s not wrong.
~
ari is slightly less beloved after that. it is unavoidable – he is a treasured, a crown prince when they are only princesses, and even as a child his talent with magic is obvious, his affinity for controlling the power of the ocean plain for all to see.
he spends long hours with tutors, with old men and women who teach him the basics of wielding power, and then even more when his talent and intellect demands it.
but he is still a child.
“this isn’t fair,” ari pouts, clinging to his sister’s hand as she tries to pull away, “i want to go to!”
“you’re too little,” aquata says, finally shaking him off, “father doesn’t want you leaving the castle.”
he runs to the window and calls out, “when can i leave?”
“when you’re older!” andrina answers, laughing. he watches his sisters’ tails create a rainbow as they all swim away from him.
andrina is only a year older than him. this doesn’t seem fair.
~
he is young still when he first realizes something is off, that perhaps he is not just like other boys. but he doesn’t know that many boys to compare himself against, so he tries not to dwell on it.
the way people call him prince, sir, brother, son – it doesn’t seem quite right. but he’s not sure what else it would be, so he keeps quiet.
~
ari has big blue eyes and hair a brighter red than anything else in the ocean. he looks like their mother, or so everyone tells him, and he wonders if that’s part of the reason their father doesn’t let him stray.
he grows his hair long, and it raises a few eyebrows, but not too many. triton has long hair, even if it’s not the current style. ari’s is different, though, and he knows it. his father’s hair is wild, more of a mane than a head of hair. ari’s isn’t like that, he spends longer than his sisters combing it each day, and loves its softness and it’s shine. he likes the weight of it on his head, something solid and grounding, and it’s a smooth and cared for as his sisters’ hair.
he’s swimming down the hall, trying to memorize a scroll of spells that his father is going to test him on tomorrow. he passes by as alana is complaining to arista, “i can’t get that knotted bun to sit right, it keeps getting loose and falling apart! i think i’m getting an arm cramp from redoing it so many times.”
“well don’t’ looke at me,” arista says, “last time i let you practice on my hair, attina had to spend twice as long trying to undo it and brush out all the knots.”
“that was one time!” alana says passionately, “come one, please?”
arista is already shaking her head when ari says, “you can practice on me.”
they both turn to him, surprised to see him next to them. he tries not to feel upset that they hadn’t noticed him before. “really?” arista asks eagerly.
“sure,” he shrugs, “i just have to sit there, right? i have some reading to get done anyway.”
“nerd,” arista says, but alana grabs his hand and is so excited she practically shoves him into their room. he loves his sisters’ room. as the only boy and crown prince, he has his own quarters, away from them. he wishes he didn’t. he feels separated from them enough as it is.
it’s bright and glittering, littered with jewelry and hair ornaments, with sparkly shell tops that he loves to touch. he likes things that sparkle, he’s discovered. but if he walks around wearing his crown, he looks like a jerk.
alana gets to undoing and brushing out his hair. he wears it in a long braid down his back because it gets in the way when he’s reading, when he struggles to summon the power his father uses so easily, when he’s trying to memorize spells and languages no one else in the kingdom will ever know.
there are other magic users in the kingdom, of course, but the extent to which they can utilize their power and effect the world, and the extent to which the ruler of the sea can do such things, are so far apart as to be laughable.
arista sits by them, “wow, his hair is the longest of us all. trying to look like a girl, ari?”
he rolls his eyes, but loses track of his thoughts hallway through. he supposes his long hair does kind of make him look like a girl. but he likes it – does it matter? there’s nothing wrong with looking like a girl. he likes girls. when his sisters aren’t being annoying or mean, they’re his favorite people.
“be nice,” attina says absently, head buried in a book. “you’re just jealous because your hair keeps breaking midway down your back and you wish it was as long as ari’s.”
arista scoffs, but takes one of his hands, “here, brother, you should have the nails to match.”
he wants to protest that he needs his hands to read, but he can already tell she’s going to ignore him. so he uses a quick spell to make the scroll hover in front of him. it’s easier than trying to argue with her.
for the next hour arista polishes and shapes his nails before painting them the same shade as his tail. alana works at his hair, twisting his mass of red hair into several styles before finally mastering the knotted bun. She dots it through with pearls and abalone shells carved into floral shapes, which he doesn’t think is necessary. but they are shiny, and he likes shiny things, so he doesn’t say anything.
“this looks fun,” adella decides, and takes her own spot in front of ari. he officially gives up on getting anymore studying done. she brings over a set of pots and a couple delicate brushes, setting them out just so next to her. she swipes on eyeliner and paints his lips red, then grabs some of the expensive glittery green powder from that attina’s vanity.
attina sighs but doesn’t move to stop her. “that’s only for special occasions.”
“be quiet, it’s perfect,” adella says, using delicate fingers to smudge the powder onto his eyelids.
finished, they all lean back to look at him. his other sisters crowd in close, and even attina looks up from her book. “huh,” arista says, “it was meant to be funny, but – you look really pretty ari.”
he turns and finally allows himself to look into one of mirrors.
huh.
he raises a hand to his reflection, then lowers it. he – he does really look like a girl now. he likes it. he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that he likes it. is it like his long hair, just something he likes? or is it something – else. “guess it’s time to take it all off,” he says, but doesn’t move to do so, only keeps staring at himself. he doesn’t want to look away. he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want to look away, which is the most concerning part.
no one says anything until attina snorts, “they spent so long making you look pretty, ari. you should at least keep it all on for the rest of the day.”
he snaps his neck around to look at her, but she’s already focused back on her book. “okay,” he says, and the wave of relief is – strange.
“you might as well keep the pearls,” alana says, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably, “they look better on you than me.”
“i don’t know how to put them in,” he says, and winces. he should have said that he didn’t need them because he was a boy, and boys didn’t wear pearls in their hair. or, well, maybe some boys do, just like there are boys who like having long shiny hair. there’s more than one way to be a boy, right? he’s just a boy who likes looking like a girl.
right?
or maybe he’s not a boy at all. but he’s not a girl. he would know if he was a girl. wouldn’t he? if he’s questioning it, then he can’t be one. he would know if he were like Mistress Megara, his scary history tutor who used to look a lot different before a potions regimen and used to be called Master Markle.
“well,” alana says, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “i guess i’ll just have to teach you then.”
he smiles back.
he has his sisters around him, all being nice for once, and a list of spells to master before tomorrow otherwise his father will give him one of those awful disappointed looks.
sometimes the whole premise of Rapunzel seems ridiculous (who trades a baby for a head of lettuce), but then again who hasn’t had a snack craving so bad they’d trade their firstborn child
Trading a firstborn child seems like a pretty good deal if you don’t want kids. It sounds heartless, but if you’re not gonna have them anyway, might as well get some good shit for free.
But also it makes me think about the loopholes. And I can think of a major one, as somebody who’s planning on adoption(if I even decide I want kids). If you adopt a child, they are your first and oldest child. But they weren’t your child when they were born, couldn’t be taken at that point in time. They also weren’t born “from” you, so it seems like that would muddy the waters quite a bit. After all, if they’d take your adoptive child as soon as the paperwork’s signed, what’s stopping people from adopting children just to use them as payment?
Thing is, even if your next kid is your biological child, they wouldn’t be your firstborn; that’s your adoptive child. They’re your firstborn, even if they don’t have your genes.
idk, I’d love to hear somebody else’s thoughts on this. Would witches/fae/etc. invalidate adoption by saying only biological children are yours? Would they try to take your first child no matter their adoptive status?
okay wait that last post really had me thinking about… sokka who has never once made mai laugh. ever. he tries everything. all of his best jokes, impressions, prop comedy, pretending to make momo talk. she’s never even cracked a smile. and yeah he mostly finds it annoying/ it makes him a little insecure (“suki you think i’m funny right?” “sokka i love you but if you don’t shut the fuck up and go to sleep-”) but as time goes on it turns into more of “oh shit, my best friend’s girlfriend actually hates me”
and this goes on for YEARS until he finally brings it up with zuko, who’s just like “what? of course mai thinks you’re funny” and sokka’s just like “… what” and zuko’s like “yeah everytime you two spend time together she always comes back and tells me every single joke you made, she thinks you’re hilarious” and sokka’s like “… fucking WHAT” and then he’s like “but?? she’s never laughed?? or even smiled?? she just gets this look on her face and she raises an eyebrow-” and zuko’s like “you got her to raise an eyebrow????? dude that’s her version of crying with laughter, in fact as my best friend i actually need you to stop being so funny around my girlfriend bc she might leave me if you don’t”
Sokka:–and then I said, ‘that’s no turtle duck!’
Mai, not looking up from her tea:Mm.
*later*
Sokka: And then you know what she did? She just hummed! She didn’t even look up from her tea! Suki she hates me.
Suki: Why would she ask to have tea with you if she hates you?
Sokka: Because her boyfriend is my best friend and she needs to keep a good relationship? Or maybe so she could make fun of me to her cool friends? I don’t know!
*later still*
Suki: Yeah Sokka’s pretty torn up about the whole thing. He said she didn’t even look up from her book, she just hummed.
Zuko:She…hummed?
Suki: Yeah, I know, not great.
Zuko: No, Suki, you don’t understand, Mai made a sound. I’ve never heard her make a sound when someone tells a joke.
Zuko, his voice cracking: I think Mai’s in love with Sokka.
