Tumgik
#huge oversight on everyones part there
whompthatsucker1981 · 7 months
Note
real actual nonhostile question with a preamble: i think a lot of artists consider NN-generated images as an existential threat to their ability to use art as a tool to survive under capitalism, and it's frequently kind of disheartening to think about what this is going to do to artists who rely on commissions / freelance storyboarding / etc. i don't really care whether or not nn-generated images are "true art" because like, that's not really important or worth pursuing as a philosophical question, but i also don't understand how (under capitalism) the rise of it is anything except a bleak portent for the future of artists
thanks for asking! i feel like it's good addressing the idea of the existential threat, the fears and feelings that artists have as to being replaced are real, but personally i am cynical as to the extent that people make it out to be a threat. and also i wanna say my piece in defense of discussions about art and meaning.
the threat of automation, and implementation of technologies that make certain jobs obsolete is not something new at all in labor history and in art labor history. industrial printing, stock photography, art assets, cgi, digital art programs, etc, are all technologies that have cut down on the number of art jobs that weren't something you could cut corners and labor off at one point. so why do neural networks feel like more of a threat? one thing is that they do what the metaphorical "make an image" button that has been used countless times in arguments on digital art programs does, so if the fake button that was made up to win an argument on the validity of digital art exists, then what will become of digital art? so people panic.
but i think that we need to be realistic as to what neural net image generation does. no matter how insanely huge the data pool they pull from is, the medium is, in the simplest terms, limited as to the arrangement of pixels that are statistically likely to be together given certain keywords, and we only recognize the output as symbols because of pattern recognition. a neural net doesn't know about gestalt, visual appeal, continuity, form, composition, etc. there are whole areas of the art industry that ai art serves especially badly, like sequential arts, scientific illustration, drafting, graphic design, etc. and regardless, neural nets are tools. they need human oversight to work, and to deal with the products generated. and because of the medium's limitations and inherent jankiness, it's less work to hire a human professional to just do a full job than to try and wrangle a neural net.
as to the areas of the art industry that are at risk of losing job opportunities to ai like freelance illustration and concept art, they are seen as replaceable to an industry that already overworks, underpays, and treats them as disposable. with or without ai, artists work in precarized conditions without protections of organized labor, even moreso in case of freelancers. the fault is not of ai in itself, but in how it's yielded as a tool by capital to threaten workers. the current entertainment industry strikes are in part because of this, and if the new wga contract says anything, it's that a favorable outcome is possible. pressure capital to let go of the tools and question everyone who proposes increased copyright enforcement as the solution. intellectual property serves capital and not the working artist.
however, automation and ai implementation is not unique to the art industry. service jobs, manufacturing workers and many others are also at risk at losing out jobs to further automation due to capital's interest in maximizing profits at the cost of human lives, but you don't see as much online outrage because they are seen as unskilled and uncreative. the artist is seen as having a prestige position in society, if creativity is what makes us human, the artist symbolizes this belief - so if automation comes for the artist then people feel like all is lost. but art is an industry like any other and artists are not of more intrinsic value than any manual laborer. the prestige position of artist also makes artists act against class interest by cooperating with corporations and promoting ip law (which is a bad thing. take the shitshow of the music industry for example), and artists feel owed upward social mobility for the perceived merits of creativity and artistic genius.
as an artist and a marxist i say we need to exercise thinking about art, meaning and the role of the artist. the average prompt writer churning out big titty thomas kinkade paintings posting on twitter on how human made art will become obsolete doesnt know how to think about art. art isn't about making pretty pictures, but is about communication. the average fanartist underselling their work doesn't know that either. discussions on art and meaning may look circular and frustrating if you come in bad faith, but it's what exercises critical thinking and nuance.
207 notes · View notes
endlessdreamworld · 1 year
Note
Can I ask for the Tower and Magician asks for Diluc?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Those two Arcana went so hand in hand that they're hard to separate. And so I answered them in tandem.
Your mileage would vary depending on the kind of danger you’re in, as well as what time it’s happening. Generally though, you'd be followed every moment of every day, either by Diluc or by one of the many eyes he has hiding in the shadows. If the danger was standard peril happening at night, the Darknight Hero would personally come and save the day. 
If this was some other, more mundane kind of danger, the interference would of course be different.
You`re having interpersonal trouble at work due to being mistreated by your coworkers? It looks like an anonymous concerned party reported the incident to the relevant authorities, and those same coworkers are now in hot water. Being mistreated by your boss? Coincidentally, a sudden surprise audit happened, and plenty of highly damaging infractions were dragged into the light which in turn ended up giving you huge financial compensation as well as new working arrangements.
You couldn’t help but notice things were going in your way lately.
People in your personal life giving you issues? Depending on who and the nature of the issues, the results could vary drastically. If someone who was giving you trouble was a relative, any enforceable wrongdoing they take part in their personal time would be acted upon. Narcotics, under the table deals, any and all of it would be used against them.
Anything Diluc weaponized in this way was enforceable and straightforward in nature. To call him stubborn is to say that water is wet. His morality is unyielding and unshakeable. No framing, no fabrications, no harassment or shady intimidation – only action of the legal kind. Everyone’s got something to hide, and sometimes one little oversight would be the spark of the faintest ember that would turn into a raging fire leaving nothing behind but ashes and smoke.
A former partner presently treating you in some awful way? This, however, was the exception to Diluc’s one rule. It filled him with such incredible rage, not much different than the rage he felt in his younger days when he was tearing through Fatui agents, the same way he was tearing through your ex partner right now.
Accidents happen. This was simply a robbery that had gone bad.
None should have mourned their loss at the closed casket funeral, least of all you. Though your aching beautiful heart is unfortunately still soft enough to weep for those who are the least deserving of your tears. Diluc wanted you to be happy, like he never wanted anything else. He was comfortable in your arrangements, and content in never approaching you directly. But, you weren’t stupid. You definitely noticed all of these small changes and these burdens being lifted from your shoulders.
And so one day, he saw you all alone in a quiet part of town. He saw you put your hands together in prayer, and offer up some words that you didn’t know were for him. “Hey Guardian Angel, if you’re listening. Thank you.”
On second thought, maybe he would approach you after all. One day.
art credit here
banner art here
Ask and ye shall receive. My inbox is open to any asks, but I'm also hosting an event.
153 notes · View notes
cloudbells · 6 months
Note
I think I understand your frustration. Although I was always a Tony fan more than Steve, I love him all the same and his story captivates me. Some time ago, I realized some Stevetony shippers hated Steve when CW came out. Worst part being that, with all the bashing, I was beginning to hate him too. I realized this and decided to stop interacting w the ship for a few years because I wasn't happy with that bashing. Luckily, I came back to find many talented stony shippers/artist who love both Steve and Tony (both their flaws included!). I enjoy CW angst, but I feel sometimes it really makes people bash either Tony or Steve and it pisses me off.
LONG POST
One, thank you anon for the message! Two, I’m actually super curious which post of mine prompted this message lol. I have quite a few both on this account and my main. Third, you actually sent this at a time where I’m pretty passionate about this, so allow me to be a little loose and lengthy with my words for a bit.
CACW was absolute Hell for the stevetony fandom, especially for Steve stans, but in a way, I’m kind of happy I can see just who doesn’t actually like Steve and only liked him on a condition of him being around to be Tony’s buffer. You can see it in the way people write/talk about Steve. They want a blank, playdough character that coddles Tony.
I actually like CACW as a movie. I think the more I analyze how the characters behave and why they do what they do, I like it even more. I’ve said this a few times, but Steve became my favorite after watching this movie. I liked him a whole lot before, but the way he conducted himself in Civil War stole my heart straight from my chest. So when I came online to see that everyone apparently thought he was worse than Satan himself…It was the whiplash of a lifetime. It didn’t make sense to me. It doesn’t make sense to me. Even me, fully being on Steve’s side, didn't hate Tony for what I consider to be slights against Steve in that movie. So where was this visceral hatred for Steve coming from? I just concluded that people already lowkey didn’t like him. Never ask a Stony shipper their opinion on Avengers 1 lol.
I love talking about CW. I have quite a few posts on my stance about it and honestly, I wished more people asked me about CW so I could talk about it, but the reality is that they don’t need to because I already talk about it all the time lol! Everything they want to know is probably somewhere on my page or somewhere on Discord. I think CW has such a huge potential to produce some really good discourse and storylines within the fandom, but people were so blinded by…whatever they were blinded by to see that. I swear, some of the things I see, I’d bet my arm that a lot of people either didn’t watch CACW or watched it once, consumed a bunch of headcanon about it, and then proceeded to talk about it like they personally studied the film and all its nuances. 
Now, in the stony fandom, it’s clear that Tony is the fan favorite. Overall, actually. And I don’t mind that for two reasons: I’m used to liking characters that are somewhat controversial (for the wrong reasons), and I adore Tony. I actually love that man in ways words can’t express. The English language hasn’t evolved with enough intricacies that would allow me to tell you how much I am enamored with him. So seeing that other people love him too? Instant joy. BUT, this runs into the problem when Steve is paired with him because well, we see it.
My irritation comes from people either outright ignoring, mischaracterizing or not understanding Steve in CW. So many huge misconceptions were being spread around like wildfire to the point where some people think that Steve not reading the Accords is canon. They think that it’s canon that Steve only opposes the Accords for Bucky. They think that Steve was being unreasonable or  purposely uncommunicative or outright egotistical in CACW for refusing to sign the Accords. They think that Steve is against all oversight and wants to be a loose cannon. They think Steve is being immature and wants to avoid accountability for anything. They think that Steve was trying to lie to Tony when he first answered that he didn’t know about his parents, instead of it being deeper than that.
Y’know, so many of these same people accuse Steve of being boring and flat, without realizing that they are the ones stripping the nuances and complexities of his characters away from him and then turning around and whining about how one dimensional Steve is. It pisses me off, truly. It especially pisses me off in the stony fandom cause I expected better. If people still actively ship them, you’d think that they would make the effort to understand Steve instead of screeching loudly about how he’s evil AND being wrong about the reasons why he’s evil. 
And the thing is, Steve’s motivations aren’t even confusing. They just aren’t. I've had Steve fans tell me it's confusing so I should ease up, but it isn't and I won't. Do I sound like a bitch here? Perhaps, but I don't care rn. Maybe they’re more subtle, especially considering that CW took the time to spell out all of Tony’s pain and past and guilt and internal conflict to the audience while Steve’s mindset was more so hinted at in his own movie. But let me rant about that later. Steve is the only one shown on screen to be reading the Accords, and then he elaborates a bit on why he’s against them. Despite this, the audience seems to take literally everyone else's word on Steve as law (Rhodey saying Steve’s mindset is a sign of arrogance and fandom parroting about how arrogant Steve is for example) instead of just…paying attention to what Steve says and what Steve does. He actually almost signs before Tony tells Steve about Wanda. And this scene is very important to me. Because Steve was about to decide to just trust Tony, and go all in with him until Tony just told him that his objections to the Accords were already being enacted. So yeah, he reacts the way he did. It’s a shock how close he was to signing away to a document he KNOWS is evil because he read it—
Let me stop before this turns into a CW meta. But, in short, I just hate the bashing of Steve. He of all characters doesn't deserve it. The way people bend backwards to twist his every action into some malicious intention. I’m surprised people haven’t pulled muscles by the way they reach to demonize him. In his own goddamn ship. And y’know what, it’s not even just the Steve mischaracterization that causes this. So many Tony fans willingly mischaracterize Tony just to demonize Steve. But that’s a convo for a different post.
This post was gonna be much, much longer. I had a shit ton I suddenly wanted to speak on, but I decided to stop here lol. I was getting off topic when all you did was express sympathy. Thank you again!
29 notes · View notes
comicaurora · 1 year
Note
With Dainix as a Red Lantern, what Corps do you think the rest of the cast would be a part of if any?
I could answer this with my thoughts, but I think it's more interesting to put this out as a discussion question. And it gives me an excuse to talk about wacky DC lore!
For those who don't know, the general gist of the lantern corps is that they are intergalactic organizations that harness the power of "the emotional electromagnetic spectrum", meaning every emotion has a color and if you have enough of that emotion and a corresponding lantern ring you can get powers from it. It started, obviously, with the Green Lanterns, and was Care-Bear'd out from there. The colors and their corresponding Vibes are:
Red - Rage. Red lanterns are pissed off all the time and are almost always evil. In the comics they're a lot more hardcore, like "straight-up blood magic" hardcore, but in cartoon adaptations they're basically just glowy and mad. Green Lantern: The Animated Series introduced a heroic red lantern, Razer, who serves as the good guy's edgy, grumpy lancer with a heart of gold. Basically all the others are jerks.
Tumblr media
Orange - Greed. There is only one Orange Lantern at a time because they're too greedy to let anyone else share the power. That's basically their whole deal. More of a gimmick villain than anything. Apparently comes in lego form.
Tumblr media
Yellow - Fear. The oldest of the bad-guy lantern corps. Unlike most of the Lanterns, it's less important that a Yellow Lantern feel fear than that they cause fear, which is totally cheating. The problem is these guys fight the Green Lanterns, whose whole deal is they don't respond to fear, which means they're kinda doomed from the outset. The absolute funniest thing to ever happen with a Yellow Lantern ring was this:
Tumblr media
Green - Will. Not an emotion, but they came first so they're allowed to break the theme. Green Lanterns are powered from sheer heroic willpower, which is why they are basically always good guys. They have the ability to use their lantern rings to construct anything they can imagine, but they're all boring motherfuckers who make boxing gloves or guns, which is why the best Green Lantern is Kyle Rayner, an artist.
Tumblr media
Blue - Hope. These guys have the power to bolster nearby Green Lanterns, which makes sense - easier to hold onto willpower when you have hope backing you up. Depending on the story they can also nerf nearby bad-guy lanterns. The Flash has been one of these, but surprisingly Superman has not, which feels like a huge oversight.
Tumblr media
Indigo - Compassion. Pretty small and niche, mostly just introduced as a plot device in the Blackest Night storyline. Their actual tangible ability lets them mirror the abilities other Lanterns, which is a cool way to make compassion a unique power. Unfortunately their lore is basically "they are all sociopaths incapable of feeling emotion without their lantern rings, which are used to 'cure' them, and this is fine. also they are 'tribal' and wear body paint and fight with sticks. this came out in 2010." that aside, cool concept I guess??
Tumblr media
Violet - Love. The "star sapphires" can channel the power of love and decided to make that everyone's problem. Oscillate between being good guys and villains of the week depending on how much that writer hates Hal Jordan's girlfriend. They were the Token All-Lady Lanterns for a while until they were recently confirmed to be co-ed, they had just been operating on the assumption that only women are capable of Real Love while men must be Mistrusted or Controlled With It, because despite being an intergalactic civilization composed of thousands of different alien species and cultures, apparently '60s earth gender essentialism was receiving the Emotion-Reading Power Ring Seal Of Approval for millennia. Whenever Wonder Woman gets a lantern ring it's one of these.
Tumblr media
Black - Death. Also not an emotion, but whatever. These guys are smart, mean zombies. As they got more powerful in the Blackest Night super-zombie apocalypse story, any superhero who had ever died and been brought back became a Black Lantern, which is totally cheating considering what franchise this is.
Tumblr media
White - Life. ALSO not an emotion, but the vibe of these guys is that they're like all the other lanterns combined into their truest, purest form, in the same way that white light is a mix of every color. Almost like the concept of trying to draw hard delineations between human emotions is a losing battle! I think you're only allowed to use this one if you're in the last 95% of your limited run and the bad guy really needs to die already.
Tumblr media
Ultraviolet - Being A Huge Bummer. I guess someone decided the lantern corps needed ninjas. Representing "invisible light," aka most light, their emotion is "all negative emotion", which is somehow distinct from rage, fear and greed. What I like most about DC comics is how none of the writers agree with each other about literally anything.
Tumblr media
148 notes · View notes
peppertaemint · 2 months
Note
Hello pptm! Would you talk a bit more about the current state of tv series? You mentioned briefly about an oversaturated market and how The Golden Age is now gone, but what were some of they key problems that lead to it in your opinion?
Would you consider Succession as part of the series that knew the importance of character development? Could we consider it like the final good show in this dire landscape of tv and streaming?
Lastly, what do you think will come next? There's a shift in the movie business in Hollywood if we look at the past year, but I don't know if we should be overly optimistic. Will we take a step back from prestige tv for a while until a new wave will bring something new?
Hello Madam M! Thanks for sending such a thoughtful Ask.
I think that over-saturation was part of the problem. What I mean by that is everyone and anyone trying to cash in on the money to be made through so-called prestige TV, and how the late stages of prestige dovetailed with the rise of streaming platforms.
Not every network went after prestige, but they've all gone after streaming, which has led to these conglomerates of streaming. Platform-wise, this is a huge turn off for "discerning" audiences. People watch HBO because they know what they're going to get. Now, if you sign into Max, you're confronted with the dregs of TV and can't make heads or tails of any of it.
This has been the case for Netflix for years now. They've dumped huge money into developing series but half the time when they cancel a show, that's the first a lot of people have even heard of it.
The other side of this is that platforms have dumped money into these series no one can find (lol), but say you do find it -- it looks and feels prestige but it ends there because the writing isn't solid. My understanding is that the writers' room tradition, which has a big practical training side to it, has been decimated by new ways of working these streaming platforms have brought. Usually, you start as an assistant in the room to learn the ropes. As the series goes on, assistants move up to writing scripts.
If these rooms aren't being put together anymore (which I read is the case more often than before), new writers aren't going through the learning stages.
The other factor is how quickly funding is pulled on these shows. If rooms are put together, there's no time for the craft to be taught or for the head writer to master it.
Do I think Succession got the writing right? Absolutely. When Ii wrote that BTS/Succession crossover for you (remember our bet... actually I can't remember what we were betting on 💀), trying to nail the dialogue and characters was incredibly difficult. It's like when you're spec script writing, you have to show you can follow the format but also write the characters so they are in-character but also not caricatures of their most obvious traits. The last part is what happened with the writing on Friends, for example. Most of the characters became the lowest common denominator of their most notable traits. Obviously, sitcom is a different format, but the point still stands because this is what happened to Greg in the last season of Succession. His character became a stock gimmick and stopped progressing.
I think things come in ebbs and flows, so the industry will self-correct. People keep joking that by amalgamating, platforms are reinventing cable TV. Lol. What needs to happen is for there to be less projects and more time, effort and oversight (The Idol FFS... where the fuck were HBO on that?) on the projects that are greenlit.
Well, there's my two cents. My flight was delayed so this turned into an entire essay.
9 notes · View notes
moregraceful · 5 months
Text
On hiatus for the length of time it took to pass between one Cuda game and one Sharks win....I mean truly.
Spiritually this is a livejournal post but sadly we're on tumblr so I'm just turning reblogs off and calling it a day.
Gave a sermon today about being trans and how there are trans children and youth at our church that the church is failing by their inaction and their disaffection and I was so fucking steamed about having to give it because I'm tired of being the token trans guy. The grandfather of a youth group kid who disclosed to me that they are trans but were so worried about telling their grandparents came up to me after service and told me he thought it was a really important message and that he was glad I am part of the life of the church. So that unfortunately made it all worthwhile and I will probably be strong-armed into being tokenized again in future services.
Stuff blew up at work and there's a huge org-wide mess and everyone is so afraid I will run away screaming and they keep telling me that things will get better. I'm just here like, this barely scratches the surface of the shit I had to put up with at the library, I know you all are upset and of course you have a right to be but this does not even begin to touch the level of toxicity I was accustomed to for 10 years. People keep telling me like they want to soothe me that the actions the board of directors have taken means that they're taking [x allegations] really seriously and are committed to change. And I'm like ???? There was zero manager oversight at any library I have ever worked at and no one in management gave a shit about my well-being, emotional or physical. I have zero concept of what a normal, functional, non-exploitative workplace looks like. You're fine.
I have to make a decision about grad school soon because the deadline for next semester is rapidly approaching and I'm stressed about it. I took time off this summer after I got parvo and then the fall because I was dealing with some other stuff, and now I have to decide whether to go back. It's really a too many interests, not enough time in the day thing, and I am fully aware that if I pick up grad school without dropping one of my substantial commitments (LIKE A JOB) I will have a nervous breakdown. Meanwhile one of my jobs that was supposed to be short term and project-based asked if I could work on another project next Spring and possibly next summer too. I want to do it because I enjoy it a lot. It's also the kind of thing that this grad program would help with, but I cannot have three jobs that require a lot of compassion and relational work on top of the actual job requirements, and then also attend an intense grad school program that broke my brain. I will have a nervous breakdown, when not if. My mom gave me the first good piece of advice she's given me in years and told me to talk to my academic advisor at the school and see what she thinks. It's a very good idea to be honest with my academic advisor about my commitments and my capabilities but I do not know this woman well enough to have idea how she will advise me. Probably tell me to drop something. Everybody tells me to drop something.
Sadly after this summer's debacle of being fired without being fired, I think some part of me has a pathological desire to never sit still and feel meaningless ever again, but unfortunately I seem to have taken that in the opposite direction to an extreme and now have three jobs + two churches on top of juggling hockey games + ice skating lessons + trying to keep up with local friends combined with my birth mom's cancer treatment. I'm thinking of changing my work schedule again and my boss is going to hate it because she hates when I don't get a weekend day, but she's leaving soon. I rarely get a full day off right now anyway. Currently I work four days a week for 30 hours a week with one 9 hour day, two 8.5 hour days, and one 4 hour day, but I think one 8 hour, three 6 hour, and one 4 hour might be more sustainable for everything I want to do in life. two 8+ hour wfh days + one 9 hour driving-all-over-the-bay-area day are a slog and trying to manage that on top of two other jobs is causing me to consistently miss (self-imposed) deadlines for my other more part-time jobs and not be as present as I'd like to be for basically everything and everyone. idk. I'm trying to think of it in terms of load management. Maybe I lose having a full day off, but on the other hand I have will probably more energy at night to keep up with everything I want to keep up with at night, including jobs, including friends, including being creative. I think I'll ask her this week. Leverage how toxic(????????) everyone seems to believe this place is with the concept of "Kasper has energy to do things at night that he wants to do and gets enough rest to be able to focus on a job he genuinely enjoys and also gets healthcare and dental from in the day."
Like....life this is it, honestly.
13 notes · View notes
gear-project · 5 months
Note
This question may be more on the speculative side. So, about Happy Chaos and his 'contaminated' existence. Is it possible to 'cure' Happy Chaos? Like as in remove or purify the Backyard's corrupted data and negative information on him that turned him into what he is today without killing him? Or is he too far gone to the point of no return?
It's kindof a vague thing...
Humanity put a huge burden on the Backyard in the first place.
That "burden" was Negative Emotions as a result of experiencing the tragedy that was the Crusades.
Venom once described the Crusades as "Karma" for the sins of Humanity's Greed. And he's pretty accurate on that description.
Humans wanted weapons to fight their conflicts for them, and so they made Gears Slaves to bear that burden.
But they neglected to acknowledge the Will that was also very Human within Gears.
Humanity also put unnecessary burdens on their own kind as if that was to be some grand HOPE for the future and glory of Humankind... they entrusted that future to the likes of Asuka and the Original Sage as if they were the Messiahs that would bring about a new era.
They put all that pressure on a guy like the Sage, and as expected he couldn't perform and folded under the pressure.
Was it his fault that Humanity corrupted the Backyard? Nope.
Was it his fault that Mankind was greedy for that mysterious power?
Not even close!
If he succeeded it was all well and good, but as soon as he failed, everyone panicked, everyone stabbed him in the back as a failure.
Same goes for Asuka.
Even more so, nobody sought to help these talented Geniuses with their purpose... they just wanted the profits and benefits they reaped.
For Happy Chaos... he took on that burden for I-No's sake.
It wasn't her purpose to be the "Future" of Humanity, but if she took on that role... all that would happen would be disappointment and more conflict, and she would only burn herself out to nothing.
It was his choice to "become" Happy Chaos.
Even if it was his own oversight that created the Merciless Apocalypse... his own ideals that created the Universal Will that nearly destroyed Civilization.
Even if Humanity has hubris enough to think they are righteous and know the concept of "Good", what is "Really Good" is beyond Humanity's true understanding.
Humans were exiled from Eden for trying to determine the difference between "Good" and "Evil".
It might also be considered Hubris for someone like Happy Chaos to take on his "strawman" role.
But even if Humans truly understood the true power they wield over the Backyard: it's hard to believe they could ever truly control it.
The Human Will. Emotions that can physically manifest and become Tangible, become a Life all their own, a Will and a Soul all their own.
The Demihumans, Youkai, and even Gears are proof of that power.
It wouldn't be accurate to solely describe it as a "malady" or even a "disease" or "corruption".
It is part of Human Nature, and it manifested itself almost like a great Subconsciousness.
Human Instincts, Fear, Intelligence, Doubt, Ambition, Depression, Anxiety, and more... all of these are what comprised this phenomenon.
Happy Chaos decided himself that he wasn't interested in being Human anymore... though the irony is... taking away that "corruption" might actually "cure" him of His Humanity.
This is why Chipp simply says he is "too pure".
100% Proof Human Nature in a single being.
Is Human Nature a form of Corruption? Depends on how you look at it.
15 notes · View notes
tentacleteapot · 9 months
Text
not to be all "old woman yells at cloud" or anything, but I really feel like analog horror is moving in a very disappointing direction in the last year or so.
don't get me wrong, there are some amazing works of analog horror actively being made right now, like Kane Pixels' Backrooms series or my beloved and long-but-still-running Local58, both of which are phenomenal pieces of horror fiction, and I want to see more things like that that are made with intent and meticulous attention to detail and that somber, chilling, pit-of-your-stomach feeling of watching everyone involved careen heedlessly into disaster they've long since stopped being capable of preventing. I LOVE that feeling of impending disaster, it's one of my favorite emotions to explore in horror.
what bothers me is that there's a lot of analog horror that just... isn't willing to put in the work needed to make it good, or make it sincere. it isn't just about making sure your footage has a VHS filter over it, it's about maintaining consistent internal logic. if your analog-format found footage is a PSA made by a government organization, it should NOT be full of typos unless those typos are somehow part of the story. the 'voice' everything is written in has to be consistent and thematically appropriate, and scripts need to be proofread. I can't count how many interesting or fun-looking analog horror projects I've found on YouTube that I immediately had to drop because the fake emergency broadcast alerts were riddled with grammatical or spelling errors that completely ruin the mood or tone of a piece, or because the spoken dialogue supposedly from government officials and cops was overly flowery or contradicted itself or just wasn't written in a consistent voice.
this is very explicitly not about me nitpicking other people's grammar, writing ability, education, or grasp of English as a written and spoken language, I want to make sure that's clear. this is about people not taking the time to have their work proofread, to research how emergency alerts from the time period they're referencing were written and phrased, to make sure the only spelling errors are significant and believable. good analog horror isn't just about making sure something looks like it was recorded onto a VHS tape, it's about making sure everything looks and feels like something that was actually aired on television at some point, or recorded on audiotape, or written and performed or whatever. nailing the aesthetics but not the tone, getting the visual direction right but coasting and not putting effort into the voice and verisimilitude of a piece, these things are huge detriments to what could otherwise be fascinating and genuinely special projects. I just wish that more creators put as much effort into every aspect of their analog projects.
when The Walten Files explicitly established that one of its videos took place in the 1970s, and one of the characters started saying "this place reminds me of a movie", I was instantly paying attention to see if what movie was being referenced--it's a very minor piece of dialogue but the choice to specify which movie and have a character make a then-present day pop culture reference could have really taken me or someone else with a lot of horror knowledge out of the video. the character in question referenced the only movie that it could have made sense for them to mention, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and that's when I knew that no matter what else The Walten Files did, it was at the very least trying to maintain some consistency with its timeline. those little details matter. one or two oversights are understandable and totally normal, but the less somebody pays attention to all the little things that make a story believable, the more the bigger cracks show and that feeling of believability is lost. I feel like that's just happening more and more with newer analog horror as people rush to mimic the aesthetic without researching or trying to embody the mood they need to convey.
17 notes · View notes
sw1mmingfoolz · 2 years
Text
☠️ LINSTOCK - LEE MINHO (THE GENDERLESS EDIT) ☠️
Tumblr media
requested? Y/N
pairing: lee know x gn!reader
genres: pirate!au, fluff, angst, royal!reader, captain!minho, kinda slow burn
content warnings: kidnapping, general pirate violence but nothing graphic, some swearing, minho is a very flirty cocky fella, hyunjin is insanely flirty, reader is slapped once, gambling, drinking and being drunk
wc: 15.9k (I'm rounding it properly this time lol)
a/n: hello! in making all my fics gn and more inclusive going forward i decided to rework linstock to be gender neutral as it's my favourite fic of mine and one i worked really hard on! the original also has its fair share of errors (grammatical and spelling oversights mostly) that were fixed in this, and while it's not hugely different one part of the poker scene was changed and only made Minho MORE flirty 😭 so yes, please enjoy this arguably better written genderless edit of the fic I consider my pride and joy! feedback is always very appreciated, i love everyone's comments and tags so much :)
Tumblr media
You weren’t sure what exactly startled you into panic first. The salty air burning your lungs was a sharp contrast to your usual, well perfumed bedroom, the rough twine binding your wrists was tied far too tight and leaving indents in your skin, and opening your eyes from your slumber showed you… nothing. It was as black in front of your eyes as it was behind your eyelids, and upon scrunching your nose you found a coarse material covering them. It smelled slightly of oil. Whatever it was caused a scream to get lodged in your throat, and you started thrashing aimlessly in the seat you hadn’t realised you’d been slumped over in. Your neck ached.
“They’re moving?” You didn’t recognise the voice that spoke, a harsh imperative question that burned its way into your cochleas so hard it forced its way to repeat in your brain. You tasted iron, but you didn’t feel like you were bleeding.
“They just started,” Another unfamiliar voice - a gentler, slightly afraid sounding one. There were a few heavy footsteps before a door slammed, and you jolted in surprise at the sound. You tried to pry your wrists apart again to no avail, only hurting yourself further. Your skin prickled with goosebumps.
“Hah, they slept for longer than I expected,” The first voice sounded again, a tinge of amusement lacing the gravelly timbre. “I’ll go fetch the captain. Remove the blindfold.”
“Aye, sir,” The second voice was suddenly louder as its owner moved closer to you, crossing the room faster than you could register his presence. Okay, so wherever I am is quite small, you thought, stilling your arms. Your heart was racing as if it were trying to break through your ribcage, breathing coming out in ragged stutters.
“Where am I?” you were taken aback when your question actually came out. They hadn’t gagged you, at least.
“This might be easier if you don’t speak. Not that I mind, but the Captain… well…” uncoordinated hands pulled unceremoniously at the cloth over your eyes, struggling to untie the knot behind your head. The man spoke softly, which you didn’t expect, words melting on your ears in a stark opposition to whomever had left moments ago. After what seemed like an eternity your blindfold was pulled from your face, and you blinked as you adjusted to the light. It didn’t take long, however, as the room you sat in was dimly lit by a single candle sat atop a wooden crate in the corner opposite you. Wherever you were being held was as small as you’d expected. The man who’d gifted you your sight back moved to crouch in front of you, eyes scanning your face curiously. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of him - soft and fairylike, with gentle eyes and an equally clement demeanour. He was pretty, and seemingly full of surprises. Streaks of dirt only seemed to enhance his looks, which you mentally described to yourself as unfair, your eyes mimicking the fast movements of his as you took one another in “Well, you’re as attractive as they say,” he chuckled shyly, brushing your hair from your face. You hadn’t noticed how it’d fallen while you’d hunched over in your sleep.
“Who are you?” You whispered timidly, not forgetting what he had said minutes ago. He hesitated for a moment, before flashing you the brightest smile you think you’d ever seen.
“I’m Felix! Or Yongbok, people call me both. I guess I prefer Felix, though,” You noticed he flicked his eyes upwards when he spoke, lips pursed as he thought of his words at the same time he said them. “I’m trying to be nice because, well,” He gestured to you. “I can imagine you’re a bit scared. And I’m sorry to tell you it’ll probably get worse. Or better! Depending on what you get up to in your free time I guess,” Before you could ask what he meant the door clattered open with as much force as it had shut; only now you were able to look over at who entered. A large man, broad shouldered and brawny, strode into the room with an aura of power you could only deem ridiculous. He demanded the attention of everyone in it, apparently even when there were so few people as you and Felix. The man who followed hot on his heels, however, was somehow even more powerful, despite his slightly smaller frame. His face was extremely cat-like, delicate yet cold, dark eyes betraying no emotion as he adjusted the puffy sleeves of his blouse and looked over you like you were nothing but prey.
“Felix!” He called out, voice authoritative and commanding. It sent a chill up your spine - and you’d spent a good chunk of your childhood around some of Joseon’s most fearsome warlords and generals.
“Aye, Captain,” Felix responded, standing upright and giving him a salute. Captain?
“I did not tell ye to converse with the royal, did I? Unless ‘watch them’ means something rather different to what I was taught?” Felix gave a sheepish apology. Captain…
“You’re pirates,” You just about managed to breathe out, pieces clicking in your head.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak,” the Captain said with a quick turn of his head, boots heavy and footsteps loud as he walked over to where you sat. “But, yes.” He smiled at you, a smile that was somehow both charming and unnerving, eyes still lacking any feeling.
“Captain, I will command the ship while you are down here,” The man who had brought the Captain to you finally spoke, and all three of you looked over at him in unison.
“That is, indeed, your role, Chris,” the response he got was sarcastic, and somehow you felt that was par for the course. “Take Felix with ye. He’s to be lookout, I'm quite sure we’re somewhere near Singapore at the moment.” Felix nodded and followed Chris out the door, leaving you alone with a man who caused your nerves to burn when he so much as glanced at you. Which, at this point, was about as much interaction as he was allowing you. He watched you as if he were hunting, and you wondered how you were possibly still alive with your heart racing so inescapably fast. After a few minutes of laboured breaths and hearing your pulse reverberate in your ears, he spoke, allowing you only the tiniest relief from the intense pressure. “So, you have probably come to realise that you have been kidnapped,” He began, tone way too merry for the words he spoke, eyes burning into your own. You felt oddly mesmerised, and in spite of your will to pull your gaze away, you couldn't. “It’s quite simple, really. We are pirates, and we like money, therefore we are holding you for ransom.” He clapped his hands, and you felt further confused by his demeanour. What was this man feeling, what was his story, and why was he so horrendously enthralling?
“My apologies, Captain, but you have got the wrong royal,” you responded quietly, to which he brought up his hand to strike your face. You gasped as your cheek burned, eyes beginning to water.
“I once again did not give you permission to speak!” he all but bellowed, rage washing over his face before fading away almost as quickly as it appeared. You stared at him in shock, wishing you could bring your hand up to massage at the flesh he had just smacked. As if reading your mind, he brought his own hand up, a thumb running across your cheekbone. “My apologies, Your Highness. I am too used to my crew, and even then I despise laying a hand upon anyone” he hummed. “I am just someone who does not stand for disobedience, and perhaps more importantly, someone with airs to maintain,” You merely blinked at him, feeling rather useless as you shifted in your seat. This man was as unpredictable as he was terrifying, and you bit down on your tongue to try and keep your face as stoic as you could. You wanted to give him nothing to work with. “However I feel now I must allow you to explain as I would like to know what you meant by that,”
“It’s quite simple, really,” you copied his speech from earlier, gaze fixed on your lap. “You will not get a single penny for me,”
“You’re the child of Emperor Sunjo, no?”
“I am a child. However, I am disgraced, widely unloved by my family. They will thank you for taking me off their conscience,” Your eyes were brimming again but for different reasons, hot and stinging, but you merely moved your jaw so you were now biting on your cheek. Far be it from you to let this cocky man see you as weak.
“You are a noble. They would not leave you to die, that would do unimaginable damage to their reputation,”
“Their reputation is already damaged. My father’s government is horribly corrupt, and I have been nothing but vocal about it. I myself am surprised that I have not been slain in my sleep,” You laughed sadly, breathily, at your last sentence, knowing your already barely there facade was crumbling.
“In any case, we have already sent the message,” the Captain replied, eyes seeming softer. “My name is Minho, by the way. Not that it matters much to you, for you shall address me as Captain. Which you’re doing a grand job of thus far,” He grinned, tipping his hat towards you. It was plain leather; simple but fitting of him. “We may be the bad guys, but I can promise you that we are not bad people,”
“Captain, may I make a request?” You chided yourself inwardly for never seeming to learn, but this time his hands remained perched on his knees.
“A bold question, but luckily for you I am feeling particularly jolly today,” You swear you saw his eyes glint. “What be your request?”
“The rope is burning my wrists,” you wiggled them a little and brought your eyes to meet his. “Might I request that you remove it? I have nothing to fight with, and I give you my word that I will be most compliant,” He watched you in silence for a moment.
“If you step out of line even slightly, you shall be bound even more than you are now. We are not here to kill or hurt you, so I suggest you make this easy for yourself,” he warned you, tone stern. You nodded, mute in agreeing to his terms, and he pulled his cutlass from the scabbard on his side. You flinched as he cut through the rope in one fell swoop, metal dangerously close to your skin, a cry catching in your throat and dying in remnants on the tip of your tongue. Minho held his hands out to you, at which you stared dumbly, before he rolled his eyes and took your wrists in his grasp. He was uncharacteristically gentle as he pulled you to your feet, moving one hand down to your waist to steady you. You gasped at the touch, knowing if your mother were watching you she would deem you ‘obscene’, but said nothing as you realised why it was necessary. The ship creaked as it rocked underneath you, a motion you hadn’t yet had the chance to process, and you felt yourself stumble as you tried to walk. “Not got very good sea legs, ey?” he jibed, tightening his grasp a little. His thumb rubbed over the angry red mark left in bands on your skin, so soft you weren’t sure if it were deliberate. It made you look back at him, where he held your gaze steadily. Unreadable and seemingly unthinking, as expected.
“I have never been on a boat,” you admitted shyly. He cocked his head, seemingly surprised, and wordlessly guided you to the door. He led you down a long corridor to a small flight of stairs that trailed up, grip still light but sturdy around your wrist. “I suppose I’d better introduce you to the crew, since you’re one of them now,” he smirked, to which you raised an eyebrow. “What, you just expected to sit pretty for a while? We have work to be getting on with.” You nodded slowly, knowing you had no choice regardless and intimidated by how close his scabbard was to your side as he guided you from behind. You were stunned when you saw the rest of the ship, the tiny room you’d just been confined in laying low expectations in your mind to be set alight and blown to pieces. You lingered on the top step as you took it in, Minho above you on the deck with proud eyes. The main deck was vast, three masts flying billowing black sails, a small platform high on the main one holding Felix, who waved down at you gaily. The floor was well polished and shining in the high sun, and the quarterdeck was large, bearing grandiose windowed doors as an entrance. Chris was speaking to a man with shoulder length blonde hair you didn’t recognise at the rudder on the stern, which was just as imposing. You were raised in a resplendent palace, and yet you had never had so much open space before you. You also wondered how such a tiny crew could sail such an impressive barque, but as you looked up to ask Minho his attention was taken before you even held it.
“Captain!” A call came from across the deck as soon as you both emerged, an eager young man hurrying over to the two of you and panting erratically.
“Aye, lad, speak!” Minho commanded, looking around as if after someone in particular.
“Land ho, sir, we’re nearing Singapore. However, we have company.” Lines of worry were etched deep into the crewmember’s face, in spite of how young he looked. Minho reached for a telescope in his pocket, extending it with a satisfying click and watching the horizon.
“Black flags,” he murmured. “It’s not worth it. Tell Hyunjin to bring a spring upon ‘er and fly the yellow jack,” he instructed with a huff, replacing his telescope and bringing you to the battered wooden railings of the starboard to gaze over the vast expanse of sea surrounding you. You don’t recall ever having felt so tiny.
“Will I have to learn all of these pirate terms?” you asked, half joking, to which Minho shrugged.
“It might make it easier for you.”
“Well, what’s a yellow jack?”
“Just a yellow flag,” he responded simply, pointing over your head to where the man he’d just spoken to was hoisting new sails. “They indicate that someone on board has yellow fever.”
“You brought me onto a ship carrying someone so ill?” you asked incredulously, to which you received a derisive snort.
“And here I had heard you were smart,” he scoffed. “No one is ill. We are merely less likely to be approached by other pirates and seamen alike if someone thinks we are.”
“Ooooh,” you nodded as you were brought to understanding. “I’ll have you know I am smart, I was simply raised for royalty, not piracy.” You cried indignantly, unused to having your pride scorched in such a way by anyone other than your family.
“Were you not trained in military affairs?”
“A little,”
“Then you should have ‘a little’ tact,” he said, air quotes around your own words as he mimicked you, You rolled your eyes at his mocking, to which his eyes darkened slightly. You figured no one else was really brave enough to do such a thing.
“How did you deliver the message to my parents?” You changed the subject quickly.
“We simply left behind a letter when we took you. You really shouldn’t keep your windows unlatched whilst you sleep, Yn,” You felt your heart flutter when he called you by your name for the first time, unaware he had even known it. With how used you had gotten to nicknames like “insolent” and “useless”, you supposed you might have soon forgotten it yourself.
“How do you know so much about me?” you murmured dejectedly, and whilst he wouldn’t let it show, your sudden change of disposition took him aback.
“I do my research,” he responded vaguely. “Come on, I want to introduce you to the rest of the crew.”
Tumblr media
It hadn’t taken long for Minho to assemble said crew, all of them obedient to a fault. You wondered how many times each of them had felt the sting of his backhand, grimacing at the memory. You sat at a round table, covered evenly in a cloth of green, one you figured was intended for poker. However, at this moment it served as any other table, bowls of a red meat you couldn’t identify sat portioned in front of every crew member surrounded by small dishes of hardtack and pulses. Felix set a heavy tankard in front of you, half filled by a liquid that glinted burgundy in the light. You didn’t need to smell it to know what it was.
“Captain is being generous in letting us drink some of his rum,” The man beamed, taking a small sip from his own cup. “I think he’s celebrating your being here.”
“But I already told him he isn’t going to get any ransom for me,” You sighed. “I am terrified of the ramifications that will hold for me when I turn out to be right.” Felix bit his lip, as if he wanted to press but deemed it too disrespectful. This had to be the most docile bunch of pirates to ever exist.
“Lads!” Again, Minho easily commanded everyone’s attention, clinking his spoon loudly against the side of his drink. “As ye can see, we have a temporary addition to our humble crew,” He gestured to you and the men surrounding the table let out whoops and hollers, Felix clapping you on the back. You gave a shy wave, looking at the faces around you. You could count seven; an extremely small crew, which if anything only made them more intimidating. They seemed relatively successful, judging from the random piles of loot in the corners and lining the baseboard. That’s when you realised; this was the Captain’s quarters. “You’ve already seen Chris, or Chan as we sometimes call him,” He addressed you just as you realised someone was missing, and you started to fear he really could read your mind. “He’s me Quartermaster, and a damn good one. We’ve been close for years. He dines later, and is currently steering us in the direction of the East Sea.” You nodded with raised eyebrows, signalling your intrigue. Minho, seemingly satisfied with the reaction, continued.
“Here on me left,” he gave a gesture to a man who was smiling at you widely, the brightness a worthy rival of Felix’s. “Is Han Jisung. A formidable sailor and quite a way with the ladies, I must say,” Jisung snorted and shook his head, to which Minho laughed.
“Nice to meet you, Yn,” he grinned.
“Next to Jisung,” Minho continued, voice booming with over exaggerated grandeur. “Is Seo Changbin. And next to him is Kim Seungmin. The three all joined at the same time.” The two new introductions nodded at you, and you studied their faces for a moment, Minho giving you time to before he continued. Changbin’s face confused you - features bold and perpetually irritated looking but smile wide and inviting. You didn’t give his body more than a glance, immediately noting that he could tear you in half without a second thought. Seungmin was intimidating in a different way to the others; he was incredibly quiet and watched everyone with intensely dark eyes. You didn’t feel able to look into them for more than a fleeting second, and you wondered if you too could master the rather unsettling smoulder everyone at the table seemed to have. “Next to Seungmin is Hwang Hyunjin, who usually steers the ship.” The man in question was dazzlingly pretty, even with his dirty hair straggling around his face and clothes streaked with black. He smiled softly at you before flashing a wink so small you almost missed it, and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you wondered how someone so docile and downright angelic looking could be a pirate. They all seem so harmless, you thought. “Yang Jeongin is next to Hyunjin,” You recognised him as the man who’d run over to you when you emerged from below the deck, the smile he gave you somehow making him appear even younger. He was extremely fox-like in both appearance and mannerisms, nimble in every movement no matter how small, and wore a torn up beret that he seemed particularly fond of. “And you’ve already met Felix, and meself so… I suppose that’s it!” Minho concluded with a clap, Felix giving you a thumbs up and jostling your shoulder. You weren’t used to being treated so informally, being royalty, but you couldn’t say you disliked it. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
The meal was merry, with the crew talking about their adventures at sea and poking good fun at one another, though you couldn’t help but notice they were wary in how they spoke to and about the Captain. Your tankard was never empty; the rum continuously flowing, and you didn’t recall ever having felt so light. Eventually, though, the pressure in your head was a little too much to handle and you excused yourself with, in your own opinion, an embarrassing lack of grace. You stumbled towards the edge of the ship, hands gripping the railing until you were white knuckled, head spinning and vision hazy. You’d never properly gotten drunk, for your family deemed it unseemly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the freedom you felt under the status of someone kidnapped.
“Y'alright over there?” A call came from the helm, shaking you from your thoughts. You slowly turned your head to find Chris looking down at you, face somehow as stoic as Minho’s, as caring as his voice was.
“'M good,” you slurred, wondering if he could hear you over the steadily increasing night breeze. You’d never known how windy it is at sea. “Just had a bit too much rum.”
“You’ll build a tolerance eventually,” He reassured with a laugh, double checking the ship was on course before heading down the stairs and striding over to you with the same strong and wide steps you’d heard him take when you were still blindfolded. “Didn’t take you for such a grog-blossom!” He added lightheartedly.
“I’m sure if I knew what that meant I’d be offended,” you giggled, trying to find your balance. You were thankful for the railing before you, as your nonexistent sea legs were assuredly worse when you were under the influence.
“Yer one to talk, ye ol’ carouser!” Minho’s voice came from the nearby doors, which you had neglected to close. He clapped Chris on the back jovially, the pink tint of his cheeks evident in the beaming moonlight. He was like the star of a play, and he definitely commanded his stage. “Go join the rest of the crew and get some grub in ye,”
“Aye, sir. But Captain, I might advise against steering drunk,” Chris joked, flashing you a wide smile before disappearing into the Captain’s quarters where you could still vaguely make out the raucous shouts of young men having fun.
“I am not that drunk,” Minho defended to you, though you were in no position to question him anyway and you knew it.
“Minho,” you started, before realising your mistake and widening your eyes. “Sorry, I mean, Captain,” he waved a hand at you.
“Seeing as you’re absolutely sloshed, I can forgive you,” he smirked. “What’s up?”
“I have many brothers and sisters,” You started, twiddling your thumbs as you let the railing hold most of your body weight. “All highly decorated, up to their ears in accolades. Why kidnap me?” Minho gazed at you, silently hoping that the air of disinterest and authority he tried to uphold hid the fondness that threatened to creep into his heart as he admired how the moonlight hit your face.
“If you want my honest answer,” He murmured, voice barely audible over the crashing waves lapping at the side of the ship. “I just thought you were stunningly good-looking,” You looked at him with your mouth agape, stunned by his honesty. You gave him a timid smile and nodded.
“I guess you all really do just think with your dicks,” you joked. “Although, aren’t you pirates notorious for, like, violating capties or something?”
“Some, yes,” He responded bitterly. “I have known pirates that have done unspeakable things to taken women especially, and I am not afraid to admit they all met an “accidental” grizzly end upon my finding out,” He looked at the dark horizon as he spoke, inky black sky blending into the sea seamlessly, indistinguishable at points and creating an isolated feeling you never knew you craved. Home was rather hectic. “Have you ever heard of Zhang Bao? Or maybe Cheung Po Tsai, as he may be better known?”
“Vaguely,” You hummed, mind too hazy to recall events that unfolded at least a decade ago.
“He had three rules, and I can still recite them by heart. His third? ‘Women captured from villages shall not be harmed or harassed. All women captives shall be registered, their place of origin recorded, and be given separate quarters. Those who rape or commit adultery with the women captives shall be executed.’” Minho’s voice was suddenly rather sober, and you watched him through half lidded eyes as he spoke passionately. “I personally think the rule is in need of updating to cover everyone, but I suppose he’s a little too dead to care,”
“You sailed under him?” You whispered, and he still didn’t spare you even a glance as he nodded.
“Only briefly. I was loyal to Captain Zheng Yi, and I suppose Ching Shih by proxy.” He smiled sourly, looking down at his hands and back up to the sky. Silver stars speckled the vast expanse of dark, twinkling down at the two of you. You suddenly thought to take a deep breath, night air cold, sodium tingling on your tongue, and you realised for how long you had felt like you were suffocating. “The Red Flag fleet was formidable, and I was proud to be a part of the crew. Having trained under the Tây Sơn it was pretty much a set path for me,” He finally looked at you, and you wondered if in opening up to you the wall would crumble, but his face remained as rigid as always.
“Were you born into piracy?” You asked, anxiety bubbling in your chest at the thought of pushing too far with your line of questioning. However, if you were, he didn't show it, surprisingly open for a man who seemed so closed off.
“I guess so,” He pondered on your words momentarily. “My father was a farmer, and my mother was…” he trailed off, as if reassessing whether he should tell you or not. You willed your face to look encouraging, and it seemed to work, however successful you might have actually been. “My mother was a wench. A prostitute.” His mouth pressed itself into a thin line. “Do not get me wrong, my reaction is not me judging her for it. Rather, I am annoyed at the necessity.” He shook his head solemnly. “It got hard for farmers, as I am sure you know. My father saw his land stolen and torched, and for a lot of people put at such a disadvantage, the seas were the place to turn.” The breeze picked up suddenly, tousling his usually rather kempt hair, and the smell of salt burned at your nostrils as he looked down at you. The prompt silence was oddly comfortable, which you hadn’t ever really thought to be possible, relishing in the way your heart thrummed heavily in its protective cage as you both watched the waves dance harmoniously. You knew you were sobering up, but whatever inebriation fizzled away was quickly replaced with heavy ripples of fatigue. You leaned against his shoulder a little. He didn’t react.
“To be honest, you’re nothing like I would have expected,” You chuckled softly, breaking the stillness you had revelled in. He raised an eyebrow, cocky as always, and you knew you were blushing, your knees feeling suddenly weak.
“Oh yeah? What did you expect?”
“Well I wasn’t expecting you to be so flirty, for starters,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. He scoffed and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could a shiver wracked your body, unexpected gusts raking unseen claws along your skin. He pulled his heavy woollen coat off his shoulders and slid it onto your own so confidently and seamlessly you hardly registered the touch, taken aback by the immediate warmth it provided. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and the faintest trace of a smile graced his lips.
“You looked cold. Now, you were saying I’m flirty or something?” he jibed, yelping when you poked his ribs in response. You pulled the collar of the coat around yourself more, looking down at the way it pooled at your feet. It was overly large on him too. “I just meant, like… Aren’t you supposed to be barbaric, and hurt people? To kill and torch cities and… other pirate-y things,” Minho exhaled sharply through his nose in amusement and shrugged as you continued. “Your crew aren’t the most fearsome either, honestly. Felix looks like he’d cry if he accidentally killed a fly.”
“That has probably happened before. Felix cries a lot,” Minho grinned. “But, Yn, don’t think you know us after one meal together. These men are my family, and they are not to be underestimated. Plus, it’s healthy to cry sometimes, wouldn’t you agree?” He placed a tentative hand on the back of your shoulder, studying your face for a second to see if the red flush the alcohol had brought to your face had dissipated at all. You daren’t look in his eyes as you knew it would return, despite you not drinking any more. You gave a shy nod. “Regardless, you can see them for yourself tomorrow. We’re currently on course to the Hà Tiên Islands, where we will probably have to pilfer food from other pirates, before going for an attack on a Chinese merchant ship that should be sailing the gulf,” He explained. “We can also see what strengths you have!”
“You’re including me in this?!”
“Oh, my sweet little dove,” he hummed, voice smooth as ever. The endearment might have made you weak at the knees if you didn’t know it to be mocking. “You will have the most important role, for you will be like my second pair of eyes. And unless you want us all to dance with Jack Ketch, I suggest you take this seriously, savvy?” His eyes were dark, dangerous, and they made a lump rise in your throat. You nodded. “I’ll brief you tomorrow, don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
“Well, I have no choice but to be.”
“That’s the spirit! Now come on, you still look positively squiffy!” You giggled at the term, inclined to agree in spite of you still not really understanding him. He was so very persuasive. “Let me show you to your quarters so you can take a good caulk, ey?” You nodded, too prideful to admit you had no idea what he was talking about, sleep beginning to overtake you. It had been a lot to process in one day.
~
You half expected Minho to lead you to the dingy little cabin room you’d woken up in and guide you to the uncomfortable wooden chair again, in spite of him having opened up to you a little more. There raged a war in your mind, as you knew pirates weren’t to be trusted under any circumstances. However, you had never felt so untethered, enjoying feeling like a miniscule speck, as insignificant as any of the tiny stars that had watched over you talk. Your room was rather large, second only to Minho’s, so he told you, a hammock suspended between two sturdy wooden beams and a definitely stolen chest of drawers standing next to a bucket you definitely did not want to know the use for.
“Your uh, clothes,” Minho shuffled his feet, trying hard not to appear shy but not doing the best job. “Are in the top drawer. I trust you can wash them yourself. There is a bar of soap in there too, but don’t use it all at once. It’s rare we come across such stuff.” He smiled at you, and you got the feeling he was a little insecure about it being enough. Almost as if he hadn’t kidnapped a royal who had long lived in luxury.
“Why a hammock?” You questioned, running your fingers over the smooth cloth it was composed of. It was suspiciously clean.
“It rocks with the ship. Trust me, you’ll get the best sleep you’ve ever had.”
“Thank you.” He was stunned by your sincerity, and this time made no effort to hide it.
“It’s no palace, I know, but. I am merely holding you for ransom, not because I want to make your life difficult.” He grinned and bode you goodnight, having you follow him to the door so you could latch it shut behind him. You put your hands to your cheeks, inwardly slapping yourself at how hot they felt, and sat down on the edge of your hammock, fully dazed. In the day you had known Minho he seemed to have shown you every possible emotion, whilst also managing to show none at all. He liked to joke with his members, he was actually rather kind hearted from the looks, albeit commanding and liking authority. He wanted people to look up to him, to see him as a fearsome leader, to come at his beck and call, and he refused to let his feelings show easily. Yet you didn’t feel he had to, and you wondered if he felt just as in tune with you as you did him, as you let the material of your hammock cradle you into what was indeed the best sleep of your life.
Tumblr media
Your second awakening on the ship was far less peaceful than the first, which you laughed at inwardly given how tranquil your sleep had been. Felix was rocking your hammock, having the time of his life as you swung wildly side to side, screeching about how you were going to kill him when the vertigo stopped. If it ever would.
“Have ye not tortured them enough?” Minho’s amused voice came from the doorway and you felt your face flush slightly, something you knew Felix would take every opportunity to taunt you about later. He reached up and stilled your bed, grin stretching ear to ear. He found himself so funny.
“If I ever stop feeling too nauseous to stand, I'd say you’d better sleep with one eye open, Lee Felix,” you glared at him as he helped you to your feet and held you steady, still giggling at himself like an excited child. You couldn’t help but grin at his exuberance, shifting away from him when you finally found your balance. “What time is it?”
“Not sure, probably around eight AM,” Minho remarked, peering out of the small round window that let tiny streams of light enter the cabin to check the sun’s position.
“None of you own a watch?” you inquired innocently, to which Minho blinked at you.
“I never really considered the need for one,” he hummed. “You don’t appear to have one either?”
“You didn’t exactly bring my overnight bag,” you chuckled, joining him at the window. Felix slipped out awkwardly, leaving the two of you alone again. The sky was blue and cloudless, again meeting the sea in a shimmering harmony you couldn’t tear your eyes from. The sunlight bounced off the waves, glittering gently, and suddenly you fancied a swim.
“We are due to arrive in around ten hours,” he spoke, turning to face you.
“Aye, Captain,” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but mirror it at your confidence.
“Hyunjin, Chris, Seungmin and Changbin will all be going over to the merchant ship to fight, and Jeongin to plunder, as it were,” he smirked. “Felix is the lookout as always, while you,” he sniffed. “Will be on the offence with me.”
“Would the men going to fight not be on the offence?”
“Well, technically, we are all on the offence,” he chuckled. “We always sink the ships we've ransacked. And then, if necessary, raid the wreckage for parts. But our ship is fine right now, and I do not see that as being necessary.”
“So we’ll be sinking the ship?”
“Correct. I presume you have never seen the likes of a canon before?”
“Not particularly. As I have said, I was only trained a little in combat, and it was all more of the “how to lead an army if your father, mother, and more capable siblings are all somehow unable to” sort,” you snorted. “It’s like you’re training me,”
“I suppose that’s precisely what I’m doing,” he smiled. “You’ll be a valuable member of this crew, I can feel it.” You’d never really felt valuable to anyone, and you felt your heart ache at his words as he turned to leave. “We didn’t bring your overnight bag, but we did provide a change of outfit so you weren’t running around in those nightclothes,” He gestured to the drawers with a grin before he left, and again your heart seemed to skip a beat as you went to change and join the others for breakfast.
Tumblr media
“It’s not dark yet,” Hyunjin murmured as he slung a heavy looking rope over his shoulder, checking the grappling hook on the end was tightly secured.
“The sun has set,” Chris replied, redoing the knot on his own hook. “The ideal moment to go across is while they are all eating, which should be any time around now.”
“They’re coming up on our right,” Felix yelled to everyone. You had passed up landing at Hà Tiên as the merchant ship passed through early, and so you were currently obscured behind a large rock formation with Minho guiding the ship expertly through water you would think way too shallow to sail through. You were at the mouth of a cave, one that was apparently deemed extremely dangerous for trading ships to sail through but provided a good shortcut through the gulf, and Minho had all but screamed when he had learned the ship he had his eyes on were stupid enough to take the gamble.
“Ji, take the rudder,” he instructed, voice determined. You were starting to understand what he meant the night before; everyone’s attitude had changed dramatically, with everyone helping each other prepare their weapons and equipment and making jokes you found to be all too bloodthirsty.
“Yn, they’re about to head on over. Come down with me,” he held out his hand, voice dripping with faux sweetness that did little to reassure you, and you all but prayed you would make it out in one piece. You had been assured the job you had, whilst crucial, was the most harmless. And with such a well trained veteran Captain by your side, it was sure to be a walk in the park.
It took no time at all for the crew members transferring ships to reach the merchant vessel, arm muscles flexing as they deftly and easily pulled themselves along. Their ship was smaller than Minho's, a standard trade junk as he explained. It was an older one, evident by the lack of cannon ports, and it groaned in protest as it pushed through the waves slowly. Jisung kept pace beside it, and your eyes widened in awe as you flickered them over the intricate and ornate woodwork adorning the sides; a far cry from the simple wooden railing running the way around the ship you stood on. It almost broke your heart to know you'd have to splinter it apart.
As expected the four were completely undetected, as no one was on deck around or facing the broad stern as they clambered over the railing and set about finding the door that led to the cargo hold. A harsh contrast to the expanse of gleaming wood they darted across, you and Minho were currently in the gun deck, which you hadn't expected to be so small. Dust was caked on the equipment, indicating a lack of recent use. The floor and the ceiling were incredibly close, and Minho was stooping a little so as to not bump his head. He gestured to the cannons by their ports and tables covered in ammunition; both gun and cannonball. Some of the cannonballs were simple metal, while some seemed rather precariously handmade. The wood constructing the room was lighter than the deep red hue of the oak the rest consisted of. He picked up a long, smooth wooden staff, forked at the end, and placed it in your hand. It had rope wrapped around the head where it forked, a little hanging off the wood. "Linstock," he said matter-of-factly, pointing to the staff. "You light that rope and use that to light the fuses. To be honest, they're a bit outdated by now, but so are our carronades. They do the job, so I see no reason to change it." You nodded along as he explained, showing you how to light the rope with flint. He was detailed but hurried, and you wished you'd gotten a chance to learn before being thrown in at the deep end. "I loaded the cannons already, which is the role of gunner's mate. Jisung will fill that role in the future while I steer, but I wanted to be the one to show you what to do. Your face heated up again in the glow of the small flame he produced.
“As you have probably gathered, we no longer have a gunner,” Minho spoke quietly, watching his men the best he could through the small observation window on the gun port. He had half opened all of them on the starboard side and had them loaded and ready to fire, and he had wasted no time in explaining to you exactly how to do so when the time was right. “Our old one had to be… removed from the crew,” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, and you watched him silently. “We’re hoping you can take over, obviously, so.” He pointed at the carronade on your left. “In there we have a grapeshot, which is used first to… tear everything up. It will tear through the sails, cut the rigging, and just kind of mess their ship up,” You were ever confused by him, as he spoke with such passion but seemed so hesitant to do so. He gestured to the cannon on your right next. “The canister shot comes second. I’ll be doing two and you’ll be doing two, and together that should be enough to sink it. She's not a particularly sturdy ship, she's just long,” He smiled. “If you have any questions, I’m afraid it’s too late.”
His eyes were once again fixed on the opposing ship, where Hyunjin and Chris at the very least had been spotted, and were engaged in the most brutal sword fight you’d ever seen. You were oh so used to fencing with its courtesy and rules, and seeing a man get his arm hacked off rather unnecessarily was definitely breaching one or two of them, you figured. Chris was quick on his feet and an incredible swordsman; nimble and agile, whilst Hyunjin was just fast in general, more evasive than anyone you had ever seen. The ships were kept incredibly close to one another by Jisung's expert precision, which made the cannon fire effective, but also obscured your view of much of the merchant vessel. You silently wished you could see more of the action from the tiny hole you peered from, which shocked you, as you had never thought yourself one for such indecent displays. The deck was slowly staining carmine, and you felt the ship rock slightly as Jeongin caught the crates thrown up to him by Changbin and Seungmin and threw them carelessly onto Minho’s boat. “It’s almost time. We have more than enough.” Minho murmured, internally hoping the hands would realise this too and get back to the safety of their own ship. Two men fighting a whole crew on their own was incredibly ambitious, even for them. A flood of sailors ran out to the deck when you realised this, and they seemed completely surrounded. Minho sighed and turned to you, eyes serious.
“I believe in you, okay? On my signal I need you to fire all of them. I admit it’s a lot to ask, but I need to go and fire some warning shots and try to take a few of the sailors out from above,” Panic raised in your throat and bubbled there, words dying behind your teeth as your eyes widened. He took a hand in yours and squeezed it. “Trust me, you will do fine.” He ran up to the deck before you could say anything, both linstock and flint left in your hands. You willed your heart to slow down and continued to watch, waiting patiently for Minho’s signal. You heard shots, and resisted the urge to cover your ears and shut your eyes, an instinct you knew was better listened to. However you were in too deep, and surprisingly, you were less against it than you’d expected.
You watched as Minho’s crew started crawling the lines back the ship, shots coming from either direction as Minho attempted to single handedly cover them. A scream got lodged in your throat and came out as a startled gasp when Chris suddenly cried out and fell into the waters below, and you faintly saw Minho’s expression change as he hung off the small platform on the top of the mast where Felix stood wide eyed and trembling slightly. Minho suddenly aimed down, shooting at the ropes his own crew were climbing across, making you scrunch your brow, but before you could question what he was doing he screamed “NOW!” and pointed in your general direction. More shots sounded and you felt your hands buzzing with static, lightheaded and shaking as you hurriedly lit the fuses of what you remembered to be the grapeshots. Your head was foggy as you strained to remember his instructions, lighting the fuses of the canister shots not too long after, hoping they would fire far enough apart to have the effect Minho had asked of you. You stepped back and covered your ears, eyes squeezed shut after making sure the fuses were indeed lit, and you tried to shut out everyone’s screams as the ship was suddenly propelled sharply to the left. Your head hit the wall, hard, as you hadn’t prepared for the sudden veering and you felt your body hit the floor before you’d even registered you were falling. Your ears rang, you smelled iron and you felt yourself try to cry out. You couldn’t tell if you had succeeded. And then all you saw was black.
Tumblr media
"If ye lay one finger on them I will personally see to it that ye can never touch anything again!" A violent hiss was the first thing you heard, before a mumbled apology and some rustling that sounded impossibly far away. You groaned as your head throbbed, wondering if you dared open your eyes. You ultimately decided you weren't going to fall back asleep and braved it, finding your gaze instantly fixed on dark wooden beams. Your quarter's beams were different.
"Captain, they’re awake," you recognised Seungmin's tentative voice, shifting your eyes down and finding yourself surrounded by worried faces. Felix's face was red and streaked, and when Minho finally turned to face you at the very foot of the bed you lay upon he looked as if he'd never slept.
Wait a second.
Bed?
You moved your hands carefully, and sure enough, there were sheets beneath your body, silken and soft to the touch. You scrunched your brows and looked back over at Minho.
"What happened?" You croaked, surprised by the dryness of your throat, your head delivering another dull throb that made your spine feel electric. You winced at the feeling, knowing your eyes were betraying your concern. You then caught sight of Chris, who was shirtless, one arm and shoulder wrapped tightly in clean bandages.
"You hit into the wall when the cannon fired," Minho began, his voice as hoarse as your own. Worry lines were apparent on his face, and while he hid it well from the rest of his crew, he sat facing you with an air of vulnerability you'd never have expected to see. So he does have feelings, you thought jokingly. "I should have thought to inform you of the ricochet, my sincerest apologies. You've been out for a few hours, you hit your head quite hard. I was worried you'd have brain damage, but I think you just fell asleep,"
"Well, that at least explains the throbbing," you chuckled grimly.
“None of us have slept, except Jisung,” Changbin laughed, earning him a punch to the shoulder by the still groggy looking man in question. “Glad you’re not a vegetable,” Felix glared at him for his rather insensitive remark, though you were sure all of them had said far worse. Or maybe not, they were far from typical pirates.
"Yeah, I’m okay. I just have a headache," you smiled, trying to reassure him. "What happened to Chan?" Chris raised an eyebrow at the use of his Korean name but didn't mention it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at his bandages.
"Got shot in the shoulder while getting across. Nothing too serious, though. Luckily Jeongin is medically trained from his time as a privateer," He grinned at the younger boy, who looked positively exhausted, sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair across the room.
"I saw you," you murmured, the memories flooding back to you as you came around more. "You fell into the water,"
"Changbin fished me right back out,"
"Did I…" you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, taking a shaky sigh to try and control the tears that were threatening to spill over your lash line. To say you were overwhelmed would be an understatement, and they seemed to realise this as everyone but Minho moved back to give you space.
"Don't worry," Minho hushed, his fingers grazing yours so briefly you could've sworn you imagined it. You smiled slightly at the gesture. "It was an overall success, and you sank the ship. Chris was the only other injury,"
"That's a relief," you let go of the breath you hadn't realised you were holding, bracing your palms on the bed and slowly sitting up. Minho let his concern show evident in his face yet bit back his want to fuss over you, merely telling you to be careful. He missed the warmth of your hand next to his, but he'd never tell you that. "Where am I?"
"Jeongin's quarters. He has a big bed, because he insisted on having one to join us," Minho rolled his eyes and Jeongin flashed him a wide grin.
"I'm sorry for stealing your bed," you said, to which Jeongin waved a hand dismissively.
"Hey, you knocked yourself out, even I'm not as evil as to just throw you in a hammock and hope for the best," he chuckled. Minho requested everyone leave and tend to the ship now you were awake and physically fine, and they obeyed immediately. As soon as the door was closed behind them he let the façade crack, just a tiny bit, taking your hand fully in both of his with an urgency you figured he hadn't meant to show. You felt something cold press against your palm, smooth and hard.
"Thank you for waking up," he murmured.
"Wouldn't want you to miss out on that ransom, now, would we?" you smiled sadly, to which he frowned.
"That's not why I want you alive, Yn, and you know that. Rest your head, we're currently stopped on the islands as we'd planned before so there's no rush to get up again. We got a lot of food, material and soap from that pillage, and that's partly thanks to you." You smiled and he left once you'd carefully settled back against the soft pillow, promising him you'd rest. You unfurled your fingers as the door clicked shut, a gold glint greeting your eyes from where the low sun reflected off what you had been gifted. A small pocket watch, on a dainty chain, rested in your hand, ticking quietly. You clutched it to your chest and let it lull you to sleep again, letting your lips turn up at the corners as you did.
~
"Hey, Yn," a gentle voice was luring you out of your dreamless slumber, a small hand resting on your upper arm and threatening to shake it a little if you didn't respond. "Wakey wakeyyyy! It's time to eeeeat," You opened your eyes to see Felix smiling down at you rather adoringly. Why is he so cute all the time?
"Is everyone eating together?"
"Yeah, the Captain told me to bring yours up to you though," he held a bowl outstretched, brimming with foods you definitely could recognise this time, and not a piece of hardtack in sight. You smiled before setting the bowl down on the crate at your bedside, reaching out for Felix. Upon realising what you were doing he took your hands in his, helping you slowly sit up and eventually stand. You took it slowly despite your head not hurting much anymore, not wanting to chance anything, and Felix's brow furrowed as he supported you. "Maybe you should just eat in bed?" He suggested lightly, to which gave a miniscule shake of your head.
"I want to sit with everyone. I'm tired of this room," you huffed, Felix's face evidently conflicted as he tried to figure out whether to coax you back into bed or guide you out of the room. It quickly became apparent that there was nothing he could do regardless, as you picked your bowl up again and started making your way for the doors yourself, and so he resigned himself to supporting you by holding your arms and just hoped Minho wouldn't order Chris to cleave him to the brisket or anything. Minho was scary when he was ordering Chris to do that to people. Felix frowned at how common an occurrence that actually seemed to be during pilages. "What are you thinking about?" You frowned at how pale his face was.
"Nothing! Nothing at all." You squinted at him but decided not to push it. “You know, I’m really glad that you’re okay. And you joined our crew.” The vulnerability in his voice made you reach out to squeeze his hand instinctually, smiling down at him as he walked behind you on the stairs. “I love the other members but I’ve never had a friend like you,” His smile was timid and hesitant, making you squeeze his hand again. He seemed to be scared he’d lose you as soon as he’d gained your friendship.
“I’m glad I met you, Lixie,” you reassured him softly, causing him to beam so genuinely you thought you would cry. He was sunshine, personified.
“That’s a shame, because I’m pretty sure Minho is about to kill me for letting you out of bed,” he joked, arm around your shoulders to steady you as the tide picked up. You laughed together as you headed for the quarterdeck, steeled ready for Minho’s scolding.
Tumblr media
"Yn, are you sure you're okay being up so soon?" Minho asked for the hundredth time (or so it felt). You nodded, shovelling more food into your mouth, not having realised how ravenous you were after almost a straight day of slumber. You were happy that Minho’s concern took the form of incessant nagging over anger, but you wanted him to eat instead of boring his eyes into your skull.
"If you keep asking I will nod my head harder," you threatened, to which he scoffed.
"That will just hurt you more,"
"Exactly," you grinned, eyes burning into his. His tongue poked at his cheek but he simply continued eating, the crew members letting out mocking "ooooh"s. Minho rolled his eyes and turned to Chris, who was eating from a bowl Hyunjin was holding in front of his face. The younger male was chortling as he did so, though he stopped to flash you another wink when he caught you looking. Such a flirt.
"How's yer shoulder doing?"
"Positively unmovable," Chan responded around a mouthful of rice, nose scrunching up in distaste of his situation. "I've had worse, I guess." You shuddered at the thought of what "worse" could possibly be, thick scars in various states of healing a prominent fixture of his broad chest, and decided you'd rather not know. The rest of the meal was quiet, clattering of spoons and chopsticks against metal bowls deafening in the silence. You wondered how long it had been since they'd eaten such a hearty meal, and felt a sense of guilt wash over you. You had taken plenty for granted at the palace, you realised.
"Hey Jisung, could you help me clean these up?" Changbin spoke suddenly, snapping you from your thoughts. Everyone was talking amongst themselves and sipping on rum, empty bowls and plates strewn over the table, and Minho was rummaging around in a nearby cabinet.
"What are you looking for?" you asked, leaning your chair back to speak to him as an aside. He glanced over at you with a smile before going back to digging through the small drawer, which was filled with random trinkets.
"These… and these…" he responded slowly, producing a pack of cards and a bag of mismatched, heavily used poker chips from the bottom of the disjointed collection and setting them before you. He saw Jisung up tidying and took the opportunity to steal his seat next to you, knee resting against yours wordlessly. You looked over at him while he kept his eyes fixed on the cards, shuffling them with deft fingers as he waited for everyone to be ready. "It's poker night. Do you know how to play? Five card?"
"I learned horseback riding and fencing," you scrunched your nose. "Not gambling and… killing people." You earned a snort and an affectionate eye roll from Minho, who dealt only you five cards. "Ooh, you have a fifty-two card pack!" you exclaimed, eyes surely sparkling, to which Minho cocked his head.
"I thought you didn't play?"
"My dad does," you said, words tasting bitter as you spoke them. "I at least know that fifty-two cards is a new development,"
"Impressive," he grinned, showing you how to hold the cards. "So here you have a pair of kings, which you should absolutely keep, and what you exchange out of the others is up to you. You're trying to make the best hand and win other people's chips," he explained, taking more cards from the deck to show you. "Ace is a high card unless used in an ace two three pattern straight," he continued, taking you through the picture cards, and what a "flush" meant. The crewmembers watched, mildly enthralled and joking amongst themselves, but their words fell upon deaf ears as Minho and yourself crafted a bubble separate from the rest of the world.
"I think they get it now," Felix said with a nudge to your shoulder as you did your fourth practice round, trying to figure out the strategy. Minho looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, and you gave him a miniscule nod.
"Let's try,"
~
"Isn't that cheating?"
"What?"
"You literally lied to me," Your mouth was agape, genuine offence burning on your nerves as you took in Chris' single pair of threes. He laughed loudly, everyone else somehow having folded early on and leaving you both battling head to head. You could have beaten him.
"That's called, bluffing, Yn," he grinned cheekily. "It's a strategy, not a cheat."
"He does cheat a lot though," Felix mumbled, earning him a hard whack on the arm. "Ow!" You laughed at them and rolled your eyes, shoving the pot towards Chris. Minho's knee was still against your own, moving slightly every so often to rub against it. You knew he saw your blush every time, and you wondered why he hadn't mentioned it.
"So," you started, watching the Captain deal everyone's hands again. "How did you all come to join the crew?"
"Didn't expect to have this conversation so early," Jeongin smirked, changing two of his cards and sighing heavily. He had the worst poker face you'd ever seen.
"Who wants to go first? They already know my story," Minho grinned at you, causing Chris to pipe up.
"That probably leads to me, right? I served the Red Flag fleet with him, under Zhang Yi, and I helped Minho escape after the Captain's death."
"Best friends since we were crew members together," Minho said fondly, hi fiving Chris. "It started with just us two, in the tiniest little galley," he reminisced. "Oi, Hyunjin, splice the mainbrace would ye?" He instructed with a raise of his tankard as soon as the younger made a move to stand up, to which the crewmember rolled his eyes.
"I was literally just going to piss," he deadpanned crudely, to which Minho shrugged.
"Piss afterwards, then."
"Aye Aye Captain," Hyunjin responded, picking up the empty bottles of rum and leaving to get two more. For the first time, you noticed Minho had less of an accent to him when he spoke to you in comparison to the crew.
"We met Seungmin, Jisung and Changbin in the strait of Malacca, where they were just bouncing between crews for food and a place to sleep. They helped us on our first big "job" I guess, and we ended up on our first clipper," Minho smiled at the memory. "Everyone knows what my response was-"
"We've got a fuckin' mizzen!" Chris, Seungmin, Jisung and Changbin chorused, all mimicking Minho's voice in dramatically different ways. They erupted into raucous laughter and you couldn't help but join, finding him incredibly endearing. You were sure if you knew what a mizzen was you too would be excited.
"We were finally off that little dinghy,"
"And then we found Felix," Felix perked up and smiled at the mention of his name, looking away from the cards he'd just been poring over.
"Oh yeah!"
"Our first "man overboard!" call," Chris recollected, eyes turned upwards as he thought. "I jumped in to grab him and Changbin helped me pull him up on deck. He was thrown overboard by his old crewmates, and we still have no idea why," You turned to face Felix with wide eyes, and he shrugged.
"I don't know either! Maybe they just found me annoying or something," he pouted, to which you frowned.
"I will kill anyone who makes you feel that way," your voice came out in a low growl, shocking even yourself, and everyone around you laughed loudly.
"So protective! Your partner is so loyal," Jisung teased, and you did not miss the clench in Minho's jaw.
"My only love is the sea," Felix cooed in response, his eyes flicking nervously up to his Captain before he looked back at his cards. Hyunjin returned and started pouring more rum for everyone, whispering 'pace yourself, darling' in your ear teasingly as he brushed past you. Another clench.
"I was also found overboard, having fallen and gotten swept to sea during a fishing trip," he explained as he finished pouring Minho's drink.
"I have no idea how we got so lucky, everyone we simply stumbled upon has been incredibly adept," Minho grinned, a hand moving to rest on your thigh suddenly. Again, you looked up at him, ears burning, and again, he merely looked at the table.
"Jeongin was last. He actually fought against us, once. He was a privateer," Chris said, the youngest of the group taking a long swig of rum and grimacing.
"Don't remind me," he laughed. "And we're supposed to be the evil ones. Working under the government really does open your eyes. Bunch of bilge sucking bastards." His eyes landed on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your chair, knowing exactly what he was getting at without him having to say it.
"Don't look at me like that, I know," you sounded more defensive than you meant to. You hated the pity their eyes held and as such didn't look up at any of them. "Honestly, being here has given me more freedom than I ever did at home. My father is a terrible emperor, and my siblings are insufferably competitive. They take every opportunity to tell me what an embarrassment I am. When I got caught kissing a friend as a literal child out of pure curiosity, I was locked in the shed overnight for 'being indecent'," you hadn't realised you were rambling until you caught onto what you'd said, taking in the sudden shock on everyone's faces. "Yeah, you were insecure about the ship's conditions but I wasn't living a total life of luxury," you laughed halfheartedly. Minho’s fingers massaged your flesh reassuringly, and his smile, his horrendously beautiful smile, blossomed a warmth in your heart you really wanted to get used to.
"You’re free to kiss whomever you like here, so uh. Make of that what you will." Minho grinned, sneaking a glance at your cards and nudging your shoulder. You had no idea how you'd managed a royal flush while not paying attention, but it took everything in you not to squeal when you noticed it. Felix asked why your ears were so red as you felt a slight squeeze on your thigh, and you concluded that your poker face wasn't so great either.
"How are you so good at that?" You asked Minho as he cleared away the cards and chips. He'd eventually swept everyone, though since they shared loot as a crew evenly (their democracy certainly stunned you initially), it was widely meaningless anyway. Just for fun, they said.
"I mentioned Ching Shih before," He reminded you as he slid the door shut, turning around and leaning back on his palms against the cabinet. "She runs a gambling house now. She taught me pretty much everything I know. However," He was closer to you now, impossibly so, and you hoped he didn't notice the tremble that shook your whole body when his hand grazed yours. "You're one to talk, Royal Flush," he smirked, heading for the door and leaving you stunned by the wall, alone. "If the hammock is too uncomfortable I'll kick Jeongin out of his bed!" He called behind him, having forgotten to mention it before. You decided to go up to the deck and watch the sea for a while, feeling it too early to retire to your quarters. You checked your pocket watch again to confirm that notion, smiling as you did every time you checked the time that day. You had never considered the act anything special before.
~
The night breeze was cool on your face, slapping colour into your cheeks and biting at your nose. You regretted not bringing a blanket to wrap around yourself, hugging your torso as you listened to the sounds of waves against the side of the ship. Goosebumps prickled on your skin only to melt away again when you ran your hands over them quickly, watching your breath condensate in front of your face. The moon was full and high in the sky, surrounded by her smaller celestial friends, all winking down at you as you gazed up at them. You felt them filling your eyes, overcome by awe, and suddenly tears pricked. For once you didn't try to hold them back, knowing you were alone, letting them run silently down your cheeks as you watched the horizon. Being kidnapped wasn't supposed to feel so good, was it? The way they looked at you, the way they joked with you, the way they didn't treat you like something fragile or ask you to keep up airs. You choked back a sob, and another one, and another, as your hands wrung each other tight. Minho watched you from his doorway, and he considered saying something, but he eventually retreated back into his quarters unseen.
"You looked cold," you couldn't tell if the fabric hit you first or the words that graced your ears, but either way they were comforting in tandem, a silky voice paired with a soft blanket thrown lopsidedly over your shoulders. He didn't look at you, and you were thankful, as you wiped your streaky cheeks.
"Thank you," you whispered. It wasn't just for the blanket. He knew.
Tumblr media
It was a while before Minho let you join in the more violent, hands-on side of piracy again, leaving you to spend most of your days watching the sea from your window, taking inventory, or drinking and playing poker with your newfound friends. You and Felix got on incredibly well and on slower days would make your own fun on the deck of the ship. Sometimes you shot extra ammunition at dummies made of sacks full of sand for target practice. Sometimes you’d play “I spy” from the crow’s nest, although that usually consisted of “I spy something blue” being the prompt and either the sea or the sky being the answer. Minho taught you to batten down the hatches in case you ever needed to, and you used the privilege of your upper class education to teach Hyunjin, Jisung, and Seungmin to read and write using a box of chalk that was pilfered from a ship off the Western Australian coast and a slate tablet Chris had chipped off for you on a random island you’d all just decided to explore. You took an interest in foliage and flora, to which Minho responded by bringing you random flowers he found pretty on the isles you traversed to tuck behind your ear or ask you details about, glaring at the crew when they’d tease him about his strange mix of bashfulness and ever present cockiness. He wasn’t as hard on them as you’d first expected, though, as everyone in the crew was incredibly close. You enjoyed your freedom and the peace, exploring the seas and feeling so very close to the Earth, but eventually you did crave that adrenaline again, and you hated when the crew would go on jobs and leave you sitting behind in the confines of the Captain’s quarters.
As such, when Felix yelled “sails, ho!” and everyone set to grabbing their usual equipment, you pulled Minho aside to give him the best pleading eyes you could muster.
“I don’t want you getting hurt again,” he said monotonously before you could say a word. Again with the mind reading.
“I won’t,” you promised, hearing the eagerness in your voice and knowing it leaked through into your expression as well. “I’ve been practising. You need a gunner,” You placed a hand on his arm and gave him a small pout. “Captain.”
“Stop weaponizing your cuteness,” he scolded unseriously, waving a hand in defeat. “Go set up, then. If you get hurt, your new role is tutor!” He called after you but you were already too far down the stairs to give him a reaction, busying yourself at the shot racks. You peered through the observation window to find Chris and Hyunjin already shuffling up their ropes, and began loading the cannons quickly.
~
“All set in here?” Minho asked from the stairs, hat almost falling off his head as he swung his head down to look at you. You giggled as he fumbled to keep it on, giving him a wide grin and a nod. “Yep! And from the looks of it, this ship had a really small crew.” You gestured for him to join you at the window, and he peered through to find Jisung and Changbin easily fighting off a small group of men one by one, as if their whole strategy was taking turns to get completely bodied. You grimaced slightly at the sight of Changbin’s cutlass emerging from a sailor’s back, slicing through the flesh like it were warm butter. Changbin was very top heavy, and very useful for it.
“That’s good for us,” Minho grinned at you, squeezing your hand before he had realised he was even holding it. The crew on the other vessel’s deck surveyed the ship for a moment before heading back for their ropes, giving you a thumbs up when they saw you watching.
“Lots of rum and beer!” Chris cheered, and you whooped back at him as you waited for Felix to give you the all clear.
“Looks like we’re getting drunk again tonight,” Minho chuckled, to which you shook your head.
“I think you’ll find I plan on getting absolutely squiffy,” you said with a giggle, to which he laughed harder.
“Look at you, fast learner,” he commended, but before you could keep the jokes going you heard Felix shout from above deck.
“All clear, Yn! Take ‘er down!”
“Fire in the hole!” You yelled back in response, however upon lighting the fuses you realised you weren’t the only one who had just said that. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as you saw the glint of an eye in the small gap of the other ship’s gun port, which you hadn’t noticed was open, and threw your weight onto Minho. For a moment you wondered if it would work, for he was heavily built, however he was also not braced for impact and fell to the floor with a thud, the two of you flying back to the wall.
You kept your body covering his, arms over your head as a single cannonball broke through the side of the ship with a power it thankfully lost rather fast, rolling dully into the corner opposite you. You thanked whatever deities might exist at the opponent’s shoddy aim and cheap, plain metal cannonballs as your own carronades fired, sinking the other vessel quickly and easily. The hole in Minho's ship made by the cannonball was not low enough as to allow water in, but you knew it had to be patched quickly anyway. The Captain called up to Chris and informed you that they’d be pilfering the wreckage for materials to patch the hole and keep around for the next time something like that might happen, promising you could join them next time. He hesitated by the stairs before turning back to you, gaze tender on your face.
“Thank you for saving my life,” he whispered, the vulnerability causing his face to burn. He was thankful for how dark the room was. He reached over and hovered by your face, thinking for a moment, before opting to kiss your cheek as usual and letting his thumb graze the side of your jaw lightly before running upstairs to tell the crew what had just happened. You put your hand against your chest, and wondered which of the events had caused your heart rate to pick up so much, before busying about cleaning up the area.
~
Minho was right - apparently rather often. You were an excellent gunner as he had predicted, once you got used to the cannons, and in your opinion a great fit into the crew. The boys loved having you around, and days faded into weeks, which in turn faded into months. You learned that a mizzen is the third mast on larger ships in the end, as you watched the sails billow in the wind, and every night Minho would stand next to you as you silently observed the sea. When you had first met, you had caught on immediately that he wasn't a fan of words. You'd come to realise he didn't need them.
He got bolder, as the seasons changed, clammy hands stealing grasps of your own in the heat of summer and calloused fingertips brushing your hair behind your ears in the gales of autumn. Your smiles were more frequent, your laughter bubbly and jubilant, and you found yourself rather proficient in poker and rummy. His lips found your cheeks, and your forehead, multiple times, and it went unaddressed at every one. At one point you let your lips press against his cheek in return, and you didn't realise a human being could be so red. Felix witnessed the whole thing, and it was all the crew spoke about for weeks as the leaves began to depart their branches. Stolen kisses on the face became a regular occurrence when you were away from the crew, but you avoided one another’s lips, as if playing a game neither of you had explicitly agreed upon. The branches bared.
~
"You fight like a fencer,"
"Maybe because I was one?" your smirk was short-lived as his sabre grazed your chest, his eyes glinting mischievously as the wind nipped at your exposed arms.
"That doesn't really work if you're a pirate,"
"It doesn't matter, you could just pull a gun on me anyway,"
"You learn so fast!" behind his mocking was genuine pride, and your laughs carried along the breeze to dissipate in droplets of salt water. He chased you around the deck valiantly, the swishing of his sabre satisfying to your ears as you made little effort to defend yourself. Felix watched from the mast and Hyunjin from the rudder, the two exchanging knowing glances every so often as their Captain allowed himself to laugh so freely.
You continued into the night, dancing with one another and singing shanties, twirling around your deck in Minho's arms in the finest clothes they’d managed to steal for you. Light cotton trousers swooshed around your ankles as you hopped around, Minho's eyes twinkling as he gazed at you. He only wished it wouldn't ever stop, especially so as the rum granted you the courage to finally mould your lips to his, smiling into the kiss as the crewmembers screamed in the background. He kissed you back so fervently you felt you might explode, his hands gently resting on the small of your back.
Had anyone noticed your absence? He wondered. Were people looking for you?
Tumblr media
Something was off about that night.
He stood beside you at the railing as always, the growing chill of the approaching winter gnawing at your exposed skin. But this time there was no blanket. He wouldn’t look at you, feeling the cold air grating at his lungs, leaving them raw. He wanted to take you in his arms, to give you the little warmth his body managed to keep contained, but he knew he couldn’t.
“Yn, we’re-” he strained to speak, although he knew he would have to eventually. His stare was downturned. “We’re… we’re nearing Joseon again.” You stood entirely still, swearing you could hear the gears turning in your brain as you processed what he was trying to say. Your eyes narrowed, and you swallowed thickly.
"What?"
His face was forlorn and his eyes would not tear themselves from his hands as he stood next to you, dark clouds obscuring the stars that usually observed you so diligently.
"We're nearing Joseon again," he repeated the words in a small voice, which was unlike him. He'd said enough for you to understand, and it made rage fizz through you, threatening to pop.
"Tell me you're not fucking serious. After everything we've been through, you're taking me back?"
"I mean we took you for-"
"Yeah, the ransom, I get it," you spat, and somehow you felt you had the power over him this time as his shoulders shrunk. "You're not getting one, why won't you believe me? To say I really thought I was a part of this crew," Vitriolic tears were burning at your corneas, brimming up and boiling over in unison with the waves of anger that shook your entire form. The tide picked up, and the boat rocked.
Memories you held dear started crumbling to ash, your hands trembling violently, as you wondered how the most genuine happiness you’d ever felt could be pulled from you so quickly. You felt as if you were falling, hurtling towards the same rock bottom you’d already visited so many times, and bile raised in your throat.
"Yn, really, just let me explain-"
"Don't fucking bother, Minho," you fumed as you stormed to your quarters, hands balled into fists. You turned back to watch his face change as you addressed him by name. He wouldn't hurt you. You knew that by now. He opened his mouth as if to say something more but thought better of it, leaving you alone to break down in your hammock, sobs wracking your body as you watched the sky. The clouds had mostly parted and the moon shone full again, her shining sisters blinking as stunned as yourself. You looked up at her sadly before turning to look at the blanket draped over the chair in the corner. A lone, delicate, pink lotus - a flower you'd taken a strong and vocal liking to during your many travels to and from Vietnam - laid suddenly discarded on the deck in view of your window, waiting to be swept up in the wind and lost to the sea. “You asshole.” You didn’t know if your insult was directed at him, or yourself.
~
"Did you know about this?" Your voice was quieter than you'd have liked as Felix tried to work quickly, rope once again tight and coarse against the skin of your wrists and ankles. You were allowed to keep your vision this time, for which you guessed you were supposed to feel grateful. Felix merely looked at you sorrowfully, ever unable to hide his emotions as the lump in his throat grew. "We tried to argue with him," he whispered as he tightened the knot for the last time. "Chris almost knocked him out. I mean, who kisses someone like that and then does this? Fucking blighter…" You sighed, heart pounding and nausea building gradually in the pit of your stomach, rising and falling in your throat with the words you wish you could say. How could you do this to me, why aren’t you all fighting for me, did our time together mean nothing to you… you didn’t feel any number of questions would settle the betrayal that laid heavy in your chest. Minho entered the room and picked you up without saying anything, arms hooked under your shoulders and knees. Before you could ask him any of the million questions that flurried around in your mind, he handed you to Chris, who you hadn't seen behind the door. He led everyone out to the ladder to disembark, not saying a word the entire time.
You watched as he stayed on the ship.
You watched as the only real home you’d ever had became smaller and more distant.
You watched as everything you had ever cared about slipped from your grasp as quickly as it had fallen into it.
I guess my luck has run out.
~
Your eyes glazed over as you laid limply in Chris' incredibly solid arms. At any other opportunity you would have been poking mildly flirty fun, but your heart felt like it had sunk to your toes, ticking gold metal pressed firmly into your palm as a cruel, sadistic reminder that you weren't as wanted as you'd easily been led to believe. The two men started making their way towards the road, air so tense it was stifling. They did not have to walk very far, as a man dressed in the palace staff garb was quick to meet you by the shore. His tall sandals kicked up sand as he stepped towards Chris, not even bothering to look at you as he produced a scroll and began to read from it.
"We have been expecting you, pirates," he began, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a snigger at the words he'd been instructed to deliver. "The palace would like to request that you dutifully keep the now title-less Yn, as they are a perpetual disgrace to the Royal Family and their country alike. The terms of your ransom are rejected, regardless of what you do with them. Should you kill them, you will be doing our great nation a favour," He coughed and rolled the parchment back up, turning on his heels to walk away towards a hut stationed just off the beach. Felix blinked slowly after him, looking over at Chris, who mirrored his expression of shock and appalment. Your ears rang, stomach churning and heart seeming to sink further, which you hadn’t thought possible. You had known it was coming, you had known they would reject you upon your return, but you had not expected the statement to be so viciously blunt. You had never considered it your home regardless, but now you had lost the one place you did. The flames of rejection licked at every fibre of your being, indolent tears not bothered enough to push past the corners of your eyes. You didn’t register them. You didn’t really register anything. You knew you were shutting down.
"Fuck, what do we do now?" The younger whispered, not daring to look at you in case he burst into tears, his own heart aching in spite of him never even having met his parents. Chris slowly turned to find Minho had followed them off after all, watching with clenched teeth and a red face.
"Take 'em to their quarters. Immediately," he all but spat, eyes dark, like a brewing storm ready to wreak havoc. They were readable this time, yes, but you weren't sure if you prefered that as his shoulders began to tremble. You weren’t sure if he was angrier at your family or himself. You hadn't realised the tears were now running down your face until you sniffed, suddenly embarrassed and wanting to make yourself as small as possible, which you attempted to do in Chris' arms. Felix drew the blade strapped to his thigh and cut your binding as to allow you to curl up, and Chris found himself massaging small circles into your shoulder. They were all stunned beyond words, as if they hadn't believed the stories you'd told. You couldn’t fully blame them. You had heard many a tale of barbarism during poker nights and mealtimes, however they were usually physical and gorey. They had underestimated games of the mind. Chris did as instructed, bringing you to your quarters and whispering an apology before shutting the door. You couldn't say you cared for how many times this had happened now, déjà vu hitting you hard as you came undone at the click of the latch.
Tumblr media
You had always considered the sound of knocking to be rather irritating, however you had never imagined it on this level. It was frequent, day and night, various voices begging you to come out and speak to them, however as the palace help's words ran laps in your brain, you could not find the drive to do anything except cry bitter, bitter tears, clutching your pocket watch to your chest with a heavy heart and drifting in and out of sleep as the hours passed. The taste it left in your mouth was acrid - the taste of betrayal you figured - as you chided yourself repeatedly for daring to think you could ever find a family, or belong anywhere. You were free help, and a broken dream of riches. He should have just discarded you on the beach to die, you figured, and be absorbed into the sand; let the earth claim you as no one else would. Minho’s voice grew more tired - at some points he even sounded like he was crying - but the last thing you wanted was to look at his face.
So what changed? You asked yourself.
What led to him sitting on the edge of your hammock, face pained, cheeks pink and streaky where salty tears had marked their trail? Your stomach knotted itself over and over, teeth sunk into the soft skin of your inner cheek and eyes flitting everywhere that was not his face.
He had fallen asleep with his back against your door, tremors rippling through his muscles in the harsh chill of the growing winter. The season reminded you that almost a year had passed since he had taken you, and you hated that you felt so taken by him. It had been hard for you to try and hoist him into your hammock; the movement had woken him up, and now he sat expectantly, eyes downturned and mask crumbling by the second.
"Why would you do that to me?" You finally managed to speak, voice embarrassingly small, feeling pitiful under the gaze of a man you felt foolish for having trusted. He got up to move to you, crouching before your legs and taking your hands in his. "Did you really want me off the ship that bad?"
"No! If anything, I wanted you to stay so desperately it terrified me and I just kind of… shut down!" You watched him in silence, trying to decide whether you believed him or not. "As I literally always told you, it was never about the money," he continued, swallowing his tears and willing himself to look strong. You wished he'd just drop the act for good. That he'd just trust you enough. "I admit, I didn't believe you about your family. And I was wrong for that; I genuinely apologise. I didn't think anyone could be so downright cruel to the children they chose to have. And I'm a pirate! The people I know are barbarians and yet they are nothing compared to the people who birthed you! Hell, Ching Shih marrying her adoptive son didn't even cause me to feel this nauseous, and that shocked all of us! I apologise for putting you in such a horrible situation and for not communicating the plan to you. I can only imagine you were scared and I feel like an arse."
"What fucking plan, Minho? The plan to make me feel like I might finally belong somewhere only to pull the rug from under my feet and try to deliver me to people who consider my existence their biggest mistake?"
"I had wanted to offer you a permanent position on the ship, I had just wanted to collect the ransom first," He stuttered, struggling to explain a line of thought he knew had been wrong and rash.
"I was gone for months, Minho. Why do you think no one tried to find me? Why do you think I kept telling you you'd not get even a penny for me? I feel so stupid for finally letting myself believe I could be happy. For trusting a disgusting, evil, twisted pirate such as yourself."
"You don't really think that about me,"
"I do right now,"
"Yn, please trust me, you really do belong here. We all love you so much, our ship is so lively because you're on it," he hesitated, his hands still on yours, grateful you hadn't pulled away as you looked at him with more venom in your eyes than he could handle. "And if I'm honest, I think I love you a little too much," he added the admission quietly, at which point you felt the anger wash from your face entirely, alongside any colour that might have resided below your skin.
"What?"
"I mean that I am hopelessly in love with you," he laughed, avoiding your gaze. "And that scared me, because I'm pretty sure people like me aren't supposed to feel that way, and I struggle enough with portraying my feelings, and I am supposed to be this big scary Captain, and I made some very stupid decisions, and I cannot begin to apologise enough-" you laced his fingers with yours to stop his rambling, and he looked up through his lashes at your stunned face. "Yn, you are, unequivocally, a big part of this little family. You are an incredible sailor, a masterful gunner, and most importantly, we love having you around, so," he held your palm up and pressed his lips to it slowly, as if waiting for you to bat him away or protest, and when you didn't, he smiled triumphantly. "I really want you to know you do belong here, and I want you to stay." Your eyes searched his, heart flipping in your chest, as he dared inch closer, your eyelashes kissing one another’s cheeks as his hot breath fanned across your lips. "With me." He finished in a whisper. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the chiselled bone, your other travelling further to grab his hat and set it upon your own head. He smirked as he finally leaned in to press his lips to yours, impossibly tender for a man so apparently fearsome, short and sweet as he tested the waters. It was as if he were afraid you might fade away beneath his fingers, and far be it from him to lose you for good. He felt as if his heart had erupted in his chest, fire and water all at once, fireworks of all colours. He had never really expected to find such pure happiness. Born to be evil, so said his path from the start, but your gentle touches and radiating kindness lit a warmth in him he'd never known he needed to feel, and now didn't think he'd survive without.
"Just promise you won't pull anymore stupid shit? And believe what I tell you about my own life and family?" You requested, making him pout cutely. A rare sight, and one you knew you alone were blessed with.
"I promise." another gentle kiss, then a slightly stronger one, and a contented sigh against your lips. You were both far from noticing the eyes of curious men crowded around the small window in the door and their subsequent hollering.
“You really aren’t a bad man,”
“Just a stupid one. But, in spite of my idiocy, you’re like, my Pirate Royal now,” he grinned at his own cheesiness, to which you snorted.
"We can work on the title, Captain,” you hummed, carding your hands through his hair as you kissed him again, and again, and again. His eyes misted over as he smiled between kisses, and finally, the wall came crashing down.
304 notes · View notes
sophieinwonderland · 11 months
Note
What about the anti-endos who don’t hurt people? The ones who believe in endogenic systems, but use anti-endo as a label to prevent people who’ve traumatized them from interacting?
I think the label of anti-endo is inherently harmful because it normalizes hate. Even if you're not someone who is actively spreading hate, by using that label, you're signaling to people that it's okay. Especially when "DNI" is right there. (I don't really like these sorts of DNIs either, but it's at least better than calling yourself anti-endo.)
I'm truly sorry for the people who have had terrible experiences with the endogenic community... but being traumatized by individuals within a group doesn't give you the right to oppose every single person who falls under that umbrella.
I don't think that we would be okay with this labeling if it was basically any other group, whether a gender identity, a race, or a neurodivergence. If someone was traumatized by transgender people, that wouldn't make it okay for them to identify as anti-transgender. If you were traumatized by an autism group, it wouldn't be okay to call yourself anti-autistics. Many endogenic systems have faced harassment and been hurt by traumagenic systems, but do they call themselves anti-traumagenic? Would this be acceptable?
Not to mention that endogenic is just a HUGE umbrella.
You have soulbonders, daemonists, the former empowered multiples, tulpamancers, etc. And even those communities have sub-communities. Tulpas.info isn't the same community as r/tulpas which isn't the same community as the various tulpa Discords.
And the unique nature of the websites is never really taken into account when talking about the different communities.
A lot of the very worst stuff I see happening, the most toxic and even bordering on cult-like in extreme cases, is coming from Discord. This is because Discord servers tend to be very private, tight-knit communities. Moderators have absolute power with no oversight whatsoever, and the people most likely to want to be mods are those who tend to be charismatic and enjoy having power over other people, which is a dangerous combination.
I've heard horror stories from both endogenic and traumagenic spaces alike that are a direct result of the type of environment Discord creates.
Which isn't to say Discord is inherently bad, but people need to do a good job vetting the servers they join, and if something feels wrong, be prepared to jump ship. (But I realize the fact that you form friendships in these communities is what makes it hard to leave once you're a part of them, which is what gives them power over you.)
Every website has its own problems. Tumblr's is getting hate anons and death threats for everything from political opinions to drawing a character slightly thinner than they are in canon. Twitter's is a character limit that makes it nigh-impossible to have nuanced conversation. This is the flaw with Discord, and is the reason a lot of the horror stories to come out of it end up being much more personally harmful to the victims.
I'm sorry for the people that have been hurt by endogenic and pro-endogenic systems, but the fact is that there are bad people in every group, and that doesn't make it okay to harm and oppose everyone in a group just because someone bad in it did a bad thing to you.
I'm not saying that people's trauma isn't valid. Or that they don't have a right be hurt and angry. You absolutely do. But that anger needs to be directed at the people responsible. You don't have the right to be angry at me and other endogenic systems who are fighting for our right to exist and be recognized because someone else in an isolated sub-community hurt you.
Bigotry is never okay or acceptable.
Having said all of that, while I think publicly calling yourselves anti-endo might do passive harm, I don't really care all that much about them. I'm okay letting them be as long as they aren't actively attacking our community.
My main focus when I talk about anti-endos is the syscoursers, regardless of the label they use. Somebody calling themselves anti-misinformation while exclusively spreading anti-endo propaganda is far more dangerous to the endogenic community than someone calling themselves anti-endo while not engaging with syscourse at all.
16 notes · View notes
pitviperofdoom · 1 year
Text
This never occurred to me until this reread, but how the hell was Druwp still alive after the weapons incident?
Seriously. Everyone in that compound knew he was a liability, he basically told them he was a liability from minute one. Barkjon straight up told him that if anything got back to Badrang, they'd know exactly who they needed to kill. And they did know! Keyla only knew to move the weapons cache because he saw Druwp watching Tullgrew hide it! He told the others as much when Badrang failed to find it!
The fact that Druwp was alive to sound the alarm when the actual escape kicked off instead of quietly murdered the night after Badrang's surprise inspection was a huge oversight on their part, honestly.
23 notes · View notes
fratboykate · 11 months
Note
Ok, I have a dumb admission and a question. What's the difference between a cinematographer and a director?? Like I thought "cinematographer" was just what pretentious Directors called themselves, otherwise I must confess that I don't know what a Director does 😅.
bro the way i LAUGHED. ive been laughing since i saw this yesterday but i only just sat down to do what im going to show you below so this is when im replying. but also......concerning??? im not coming at YOU directly but this is why i hate seeing people go off talking about the industry online when 95% of you don't grasp even the most basic things about how any of this works. serious question.....have you neverrrrrr seen even the oscars' nominee list??? anyyyyyy awards show??? directing and cinematography are two different categories because they're two completely different jobs done by different people lol. this is so funny.
look, this is going to be a broad generalization because for obvious reasons a studio project and a more independent film are going to be set up/come to be in veryyyy different ways but lets do the most basic breakdown. the easiest way to explain what a director does is imagining that every film/episode of TV is a company and the director is, for all intents and purposes, the CEO of that company for however long the project is going.
i made a little super basic hierarchy flowchart: (you have to click on it to enlarge it)
Tumblr media
film sets typically have at the very least 50 people on crew and can go up to like 300 so, again, this is simplified as fuck but these are the major departments/departments heads. depending on the project you'd just have a lot more people below each department head. for clarity the department heads are: 1st AD, cinematographer, production designer, costume designer, sound mixer, hair stylist, make-up, etc. if a project demands it you'd also have other departments like stunts and what not. art department tends to grow EXPONENTIALLY the bigger the project. if you have to build or dress huge sets then you obviously need a lot more people with different specialties (carpenters, painters, etc). this is also only ON SET departments. there's also post-production which the director also supervises but that's a whole other beast.
there's a huge misconception that producers are the "bosses" of the director but in a film - i'd say at least 50% of the time - producers are collaborators with the director. for example, i write a script and my agents take it out. a producer attaches themselves and because im also a director obviously i'd want to direct the project. at that point the producer and i come together to make the film happen. they're not my boss because i wrote the script. it's my project. they're simply coming on board to work WITH ME to get it packaged, financed, and into production. that changes a little if you're coming onto say something like a blockbuster or something part of a franchise because then you are in more of a "work for hire" situation so the studio producer would be above the director in that scenario. BUT they're still hiring that director to be the CEO of the production. it's kind of like how a board hires a CEO in a company to lead even thought they can technically fire them at any moment. there is some oversight but the director is still the boss of everyone else and runs the set/day to day operations.
now, to what exactly a director does...a director is the creative force behind a project. each and every one of those hundreds of people on crew are there to make a director's vision come to life. a director takes a script and translates their interpretation of it to the screen. they are the ones who make every single decision from who gets cast, to where you're shooting, what the characters are wearing, what couch they're sitting on, where the camera is placed, etc. every single damn decision runs through the director. not only are they the brain of the operation but they are the ONLY ones who deal with actors. they alone control an actor's performance. as a director i guide them to give me what i want. gross simplification but directors are basically an actor's puppeteer. yes, it's a collaborative process but at the end of the day a director doesn't have to agree with an actor's input and whatever the director says will trump anything else. a director is the ultimate arbiter of all aspects of a performance and if they want to control the smallest detail (say like...how and when an actor moves a finger) they can and will. again, everyone on set including actors is under the purview of the director and do anything the director says. it tends to be less dictatorial than that because people like to collaborate, but there are directors who run their sets like military boot camps where no one has a voice but them. it can be a dick move if they don't handle it correctly, but they're within their right to do so. everyone has their own approach.
this is different in TV though. a showrunner is above a director in every way. the showrunner is the creative vision of a show but often times they're not a director. so they'll bring in directors to run sets. however in TV directors are always taking pointers from the showrunners. when we direct an episode of TV we have to have meetings with showrunners and they explain to us what they want then, with script in hand, we go out and do our thing to make the showrunner's vision come to life. that is even more of a "work for hire" situation than a studio film. especially because the crew for the show is there for the entire season while directors are only there for an episode or two. you're really just being hired to keep the machine going for a week but you don't have much control at all. a showrunner can and will override you on almost any decision if they think you're straying. it is undoubtedly much more nuanced and complicated than this, but if you want me to give you the super blunt and oversimplified version of tv direction i'd say that unless you're directing the pilot, an episodic director who comes in to direct something random like episode 2x07 is basically there to work with the guest stars/day players and make sure the wheels don't fall of a train that was already in motion. you're really only there to manage people for the 7-8 days it takes to shoot an episode and to yell "action" and "cut" lol. when you come into an ongoing series, at that point the leads already know their characters and there's a visual language cemented for the show. you're simply there to follow all of that and color between those lines. tv directing is much less creative than people think. it's more managerial than anything. you're a guest in someone else's house. you're basically house sitting for a week. sure you can move the furniture around a little and set the plant by that other window while you're in the house but you can't suddenly decide to remodel the kitchen and install a pool in the backyard because...that ain't your house. you're just visiting and the owners expect to, for the most part, find their house as it was when they gave it to you because the moment you leave, another housesitter is coming to take over for another week. i hope that analogy made sense lol.
a cinematographer (interchangeable/synonymous with "director of photography") works FOR the director. they have their own department and team of people they oversee but, like everyone else, they're there to serve and execute the director's vision. cinematographers are first and foremost technicians. their work is SUPER hands-on and complex. they are the ones who work with cameras and lighting. a director can give instructions as simple as "i want this to be a close-up of her face. it's half in silhouette because the scene is moody. its supposed to be windy outside so i also want to see shadows in the back wall of the tree branches swaying violently to convey that." the cinematographer's job is to take that direction and make it happen. they're going to tell their teams what lights to use, how/where to rig them, what gear they need, etc. it's kind of like if you go to a tailor because you want a jacket. you know exactly what type of jacket you want and you may even bring references because you have such a clear idea. you know everything down to the color and style but you can't sew. the tailor is the one who knows how to make the patterns then stitch them together with their machine. you bring in the design/idea and the tailor fabricates it. the director has the vision and the cinematographer + their team are the ones who take that idea and make it happen practically. a lot of directors can also speak the technical DP language and have deep understanding of lights, gear, cameras, and lenses. many directors can and will tell their cinematographer exactly what lens they want and what light they want placed where. but a director doesn't have to know all of that or know more than the basics. they also won't physically do any of the manual labor to put all that together because that's the job of the camera and g&e (grip & electric) teams that the cinematographer oversees. the cinematographer is there to have that knowledge and be able to translate even the most basic of instructions into all the technical things that need to happen to put that instruction on screen.
anyway...ive ranted enough. just trust when i tell you everything in this industry is complicated and unless you actually work day in and day out in this shit YOU HAVE NO IDEA. the idiots on twitter like "i took a film class in college so im an expert"...go fuck yourself lol. you know nothing. this whole thing is so complicated on the inside that during the strike a plethora of us have noticed and are pointing out that even a lotttttttt of critics who make a living out of talking about film and tv have no fucking clue how the sausage is made. just go look for the tweets. there's more than enough writers speaking up about it. it's been SHOCKING. so many of us have been going like "uhhhhhhhhhhhhh how are people who write about this every day this ignorant about things that should be basic???" unless you're in it you don't know anything and ill forever stand by that.
13 notes · View notes
karizard-ao3 · 25 days
Text
My reactions to Evangelion episode 6: Rei II
Paths Eren Jaeger, I see you there.
Seeing Shinji boiling in that oxygen liquid and almost dying kills me. And he's got a nosebleed, too. He is just a little boy!
It is interesting that- Sorry, I completely lost that thought because why the fuck do they have a full size balloon replica of Unit 1?
What does NERV have that the Angels want so badly?
Rei and her emotional support broken glasses.
It still surprises me how much authority Misato has. I mean, she's taking all the power from all of Japan to power an experimental weapon. Like, she seems to ditzy and then we see her spearheading a big operation like this one with very little oversight. She seems like a whole different person when she's like this.
Why are they waiting to do the mission until midnight, right before it hits NERV HQ? Why can't they just do it as soon as Unit 1 is repaired so they don't lose all their shields? Unless they need to charge up all the electricity for the weapon until then?
Shinji accused Rei of never being terrified inside the Eva but I think it's actually that she is reacting to the fear in the opposite way from him, by shutting down huge parts of herself. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a very different kind of girl in her old life.
Kensuke, your penchant for spectating is going to get someone killed one day.
Here's a ship: the Angel drill x the earth's crust.
Here they go again. "Hey, Shinji. You've never done any sniper training, but now you have to be a sniper. Sorryyyyy!"
What's with the random penguin shot? What does the penguin do?? What is his purpose, I mean???
Rei's Eva is her link to everyone else, eh? 🧐
Shinji is such a sweetheart. He's got his heart on his sleeve.
Lol what if Rei is a clone of Shinji's (presumably) dead mother.
In Closing
So Rei, like Shinji, has been isolated for possibly her whole life. She has a hard time connecting to people and I feel like that's a huge source of her attachment to Gendo. Shinji, being his son, reminds her of him, it looks like, and it seems like that's going to help her warm up to him, maybe? I have some inarticulate speculations swirling around about Rei but I can't really put them into words, but obviously her difficulty forming connections seems significant, especially given that she also has difficulty forming a connection with her Eva, whereas Shinji is much more vulnerable with people.
I'm starting to wonder if there is something within NERV HQ that the Angels want. There has to be a reason they are ramping up their attacks and going for NERV specifically instead of trying to destroy humanity as a whole. This feels very targeted and like NERV is dragging everyone into their own personal skirmish instead of being the protectors they claim to be.
I'm looking forward to seeing Rei and Shinji's dynamic continue to evolve and grow.
One more episode, then I have some chores to do.
6 notes · View notes
alatariel-galadriel · 5 months
Text
3 Common Misconception: HIPAA Edition
(aka I have HIPAA tattooed under my eyelids and I want to make it everyone else’s problem)
This is pedantic, but the act protecting your health information is HIPAA, not HIPPA. One ‘p’, two ‘a’s. HIPAA stands for the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, not the oft-quoted (and non-existent) Health Information Privacy & Protection Act. Not a huge deal, since it protects your health information regardless, but it’s a pretty decent metric to mark if someone actually knows what they’re talking about.
HIPAA protects you from employees of healthcare organizations sharing your information without your consent.  HIPAA violations occur when someone who has access to your medical information *as part of their job* either a) purposely accesses information outside of their job requirements b) shares your health information without your consent or c) puts health information in a position where it can be improperly accessed by others, purposefully or not. You can shout your medical information to the hills. People who you've told your medical information to can shout it to the hills, so long as they didn’t get that information through their job. People can demand that you share your information--but your doctor can’t hand it over without your consent.
Exceptions to HIPAA exist. There's quite a few of them, actually, and I’ve made a detailed list below the cut; but to correct the biggest misconception: yes, there are situations where health care employees are required to share your information with the government. This typically falls under mandatory reporting (think child abuse, gunshot wounds, or highly infectious diseases), but your information can also be accessed via warrant or subpoena for criminal proceedings.
Here is the government’s webpage breaking down the HIPAA Privacy Rule if you want to know more! I love love love HIPAA and will gladly talk about it for as long as anyone will let me (hence the cut below).
Detailed breakdown of HIPAA exceptions under the cut:
TPO: This stands for Treatment, Payment and Operations, because if your health info was on complete lockdown, no healthcare entity could function. Employees can access/share your info when that info is necessary for them to...
Provide treatment (ie: your nurse can share your info with your doctor)
 Receive payment (ie: giving your info to your insurance company)
Maintain operations (ie: health data/medical records staff. This is me--as a health systems analyst, I can’t do my job without access to the data within the medical records system)
Public Interest: ie: when required by law/governmental function. This includes:
Mandatory reporting (discussed above. Healthcare professionals are required to report infectious diseases like measles or rabies, as well as incidents like gunshot wounds or domestic violence.)
Health oversight activities. These are the organizations who evaluate and investigate whether a facility meets safety/performance regulations and standards. Trust me, you want your info shared with these folks!! 
 Law Enforcement. I’m going to be really specific here, because there’s been a lot of (justifiable) concern post-Roe v Wade. Your info can be shared if it is is…
Subpoenaed, court ordered, or court-ordered warrant by a court, judge, or administrative tribunal
 Requested by law enforcement to id a suspect, fugitive, witness, or missing person
 Requested by law enforcement for info about a victim/suspected victim of crime
 To alert law enforcement of a person’s death if the organization believes a crime has occurred
If the healthcare organization believes the information is evidence of a crime that occurred on its premises.
In emergency situations, providers can share information about the nature of a crime, the location of crime/victims, and the perpetrator of the crime.
Decedents: Funeral directors, coroners, and medical examiners all need your info to do their jobs, Being deceased, you can’t give your authorization, so an healthcare org sharing your info with them is not a HIPAA violation
Organ/Eye/Tissue donation: pretty self-explanatory. Some of your information as a donor might be shared to ensure a healthy transplant.  
Research (limited data sets): This one tends to freak people out, but if you’re on one of these, anything that can identify you is removed (name, address, etc.). Instead, details of specific conditions/treatments are stored to provide data for researchers. For example, every state has, by law, a cancer registry--used to identify sudden spikes that might be attributable to environmental factors.
Serious threats to health/safety. If a serious, specific threat is made against a person or the public, this can be shared with law enforcement and the person who the threat is made against. There’s a lot of grey area here in what counts as a specific threat, and this can get complicated quickly, but if someone tells a medical professional that they are planning on harming you, you will be notified alongside law enforcement. Likewise for a bomb or other public threat.
Essential government functions. If you are in prison or other correctional facility, you are not protected by HIPAA. Some government benefit programs will require the disclosure of health information. (It also includes national security and military missions).
And last, but not least: worker’s compensation. Healthcare orgs have to share parts of your information for you to receive worker’s comp, as part of the verification process. Fantastic!
3 notes · View notes
juniperhillpatient · 1 year
Note
u say Zuko’s redemption arc was well written but go on to criticize it so was it really well written or do you just want to believe that?
I mean, no, it was really well written lol
I can only critique Avatar so much because I’ve watched it so many times & put so much thought into it because I love it.
I think it’s fair to say “this thing is really good & well done but there are some valid criticisms of it.”
There are many inconsistencies as far as the buildup to Zuko becoming Fire Lord. It’s not well foreshadowed in my opinion because it’s unclear whether Zuko is supposed to have a destiny or want to make one for himself. It’s like the writers can’t decide & go back & forth without ever coming to a firm conclusion & that frustrates me.
I have also expressed my frustration that Zuko’s jealousy & resentment toward Azula was never addressed as an unhealthy thing nor were we given any hope about a reconciliation arc for the two of them which could have been as easy as a brief visit in the end - a glimmer of hope that Zuko understands he’s not the only one who suffered under Ozai’s parenting. Failing to address this is a pretty big oversight in my opinion because Zuko has been obsessed with his perceived idea of Azula & her perfection & how easily everything comes to her this entire time. Learning that she’s just a hurt kid who can fall apart too should’ve mattered / been part of his arc.
I’ve thought about it a lot & I’m not on Book 3 of my re-watch yet but I’ll ultimately say that there wasn’t time for an Azula redemption arc in the context of the show that we got & it wouldn’t have made sense. I would’ve loved a Book 4 redemption arc for her.
But in terms of critiquing what we DO have, I think it would’ve fixed a lot & specifically fixed a lot of my criticisms of Zuko’s arc to just have like, one scene where Zuko visits Azula in a hospital & they talk & maybe they’re not ready to hug & make nice but we get the idea that Zuko’s perspective on his sister has changed & there is hope. A brief scene like this would’ve really helped to cement his character arc in my opinion & show how much he’s grown from the angry boy in Siege of the North who’s filled with misplaced hate & resentment for his sister, not aware that they’re both in the same unfair position.
But these criticisms don’t mean that I think Zuko’s arc was overall poorly written, no. I’ll never think that because… it’s not true.
I don’t feel like writing a whole long meta post about why Zuko’s redemption arc is well written because like…. it’s been done a hundred times but like… yeah, the main villain of season one changing his mind about his nation’s violent, imperialistic ideals & calling out the abuse he was put through? Going from blindly wanting to capture the Avatar to wanting to help restore balance to the world? I love that arc. Zuko does grow immensely throughout the series & I kinda feel like ignoring that is ignoring a huge aspect of canon (cause it is.) That’s kind of the thing. I’m much better at expressing my criticisms than the things I liked lol - I guess cause there’s more to say & explain as far as how I’d fix things. But I mean, if you can really watch Zuko’s gradual development & internal struggle throughout the whole show & see him stand up to Ozai & go on life changing adventures with the Gaang & you just think he’s poorly written….I don’t know how to argue with that? Like….. that’s certainly AN opinion. Everyone is entitled to their opinions I just don’t know how to argue with that one & it feels so niche & rare outside of Tumblr that it doesn’t even seem worth it. It’s not about whether I or anyone else wants to believe it, it’s just a strong character arc.
TLDR: I think it’s completely reasonable to say I overall liked something but I have a few criticisms.
Also sorry if this came across curt, I really struggle with tone on the internet sometimes but I’m legitimately not trying to be aggressive I’m just trying to share my perspective. Thank you for the ask!
21 notes · View notes
footballdesires · 1 year
Text
small like me, serge gnabry ───────────────────────────────────────── pairing: serge gnabry, she/her summary: requested by anon the request: hey :) could you perhaps do something really fluffy, domestic and winter/christmas themed for serge gnabry? ───────────────────────────────────────── requests are open, request away! ─────────────────────────────────────────
the snow started to spread through munich, covering the buildings and streets in blankets of frozen white. the cold days announced the beginning of the winter season, and the upcoming christmas days. 
snowflakes fell from the grayish cotton-like clouds in the sky, decorating the strands of her hair which were tied to a messy bun on the back of the head. the lower half of the face, which includes the chin and the mouth, was covered by the thick, wool scarf. she loved the snow, and the christmas season even more but the sudden change of temperature, and the coldness weren’t as pleasing as the decorations around town. 
almost fourteen days left until the twenty-fourth, and the house still looked like another casual day. she wasn’t satisfied with it, the desire to decorate started this morning, and who would serge be to deny his girlfriend such a wish. 
slender fingers hidden in the wool fabric of the gloves, she caressed  over  the snow-covered branches of the trees around them. they differed in height and width and the decision to choose one was harder than thought. “did you find the perfect one yet?” the gentle vocals of her boyfriend drew the attention away from the dark green conifers, and she tilted the head over the shoulder. 
right behind her, stood serge. dark hair covered with a wool beanie, and a smile plastered over his face. closing the distance between them with his steps, he rested his chin on her shoulder, and carefully wrapped his arms around her waist. the fleshy fingers fiddled with the buttons on the front of her coat, leaning the head slightly to the side to glance at the side of her face. “i like this one, but i’m not sure about the size. could it be too small for the living room? i mean, the room’s huge.” she gestured wildly through the thick winter air with her gloved hands, causing the male that cuddled himself close to her to chuckle quietly. 
“we kind of forgot to measure at least the height of our living room.” serge admitted. a groan, infiltrated by the annoyance about their forgetfulness, escaped the parted lips of the female. leaning back into the comfortable embrace of serge, the back of the head placed on the clothed shoulder and cuddling with the faux fur on the hood of his jacket. “then what’s the plan for picking out a tree now?” 
she stared at the darkened colors above them, the cotton-like clouds mixed with the sky in disparate hues of gray, from the darkest part to the lightest, almost white patch between. the days got colder over the past week, and the winter break between the two halves of a season was taken with thankfulness. she couldn’t imagine, cheering in the stands when the snow continued to fall on the pitch and straight on the bleachers. still, for serge, she would have gone to any game possible.
“what about the little one over there?” the male suggested, pointing at one of the christmas trees in the corner of the farm. it was half the size of the one, she wanted to take home but the branches spread out wide. 
“don’t you think it’s too small?” she raised the eyebrows. a desire to find the perfect tree in the middle of almost fifty, she started to lose the oversight. “you know, that’s exactly what they said about me when i told everyone i will follow my dream of becoming a great football player.” 
she remembered the story very well, the beginnings of a serge’s career and how a handful of people always attempted to destroy what he wanted to create. “are you comparing yourself to a christmas tree, babe?” she giggled under the exhaled breath, feeling the strange desire of finding the perfect one slowly disappear. 
“kind of.” he admitted, chuckling to himself before the soft lips of his blew a gentle kiss against the cold skin of her cheek. “i’m just saying, it could turn out great, look at me.” releasing the embrace on her, serge stepped around the female and spread out the arms to present himself to her. turning from left to right on his feet, he showed off every profile of his figure with a wide smile.
“alright alright.” she raised the flat hands in defeat. the display of himself coaxed a soft laugh out of his girlfriend. “you proved your point.” 
clapping the gloved hands together, she walked towards the small christmas tree, standing alone in a corner. almost hidden behind the towering green of the surrounding ones, she had to admit, it actually looked perfect.
"so, that's our tree."
"that's our tree." serge appeared beside his girlfriend, placing the gloved hand in his cold one and intertwining her delicate fingers with his. "almost like adopting a child."
raising the eyebrows, she tilted the head to the side. "we're not adopting a child, it's a tree, idiot." she bumped her shoulder into his, the small snowflakes that almost melted on their coats falling to the blankets of frozen water on the ground.
"still, it's our tree." he emphasized the word which united the mine and yours together, and between the dazzling topic of adopting a child and the change of expectations with the smaller tree, it felt perfect to her.
20 notes · View notes