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whumpacabra · 13 days

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Chapter 3. Minnows

Anticipated violence, angst, touch starvation, comfort, past trauma, past whump of a minor [11], past abuse, implied past domestic abuse

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Rain thrummed steadily against the thin windowpanes, wind rattling the half-rotted shutters on their rusted hinges. From the exterior, the shack was hardly fit for habitation, the stilts that held it above the sandbar worn by the relentless sea. But from those thin windows a warmth bled through into the stormy night. The four walls of that sea shack encompassed a universe to the child’s eyes. The distance between the molded but sweet-smelling hay mattresses where he slept with his mother was miles from the kitchen, where his mother stood, stirring a stew that bubbled over the bright coals.

“Do you have to go?” His voice was small and timid. His mother never complained how softly he spoke; she always heard him.

“It’s just for the night, I’ll be back by morning my little minnow.” She didn’t look away from her work, although the tilt of her head told him she could hear his footsteps across the room. He wrapped his arms around her waist – he was still so small, hardly tall enough to reach – and pressed his face into her side as thunder shook the shack. “I always come back before dawn, you’ll wake up to fresh clams and –”

“You always come back sad and hurt,” He whimpered, tiny hands gripping the faded red fabric of her skirt. “I hate him.”

Such a small body, shaking with fear – and rage – it couldn’t contain, wracked by unbidden tears.

“Oh, little minnow…”

Her voice broke as she set down the ladle and dropped to her knees, wrapping her son in her arms and holding his shaking form to her chest. Her dark, curling hair covered him like a shroud of seaweed, hiding the lightning flashes from his eyes and muffling the thunder. She was crying too, her tears twice as salty with grief and age.

“Want to know a secret?” She whispered into his hair, cracking a smile in spite of the tears that trailed from her red rimmed eyes as he murmured confirmation. “I hate him too.” She sobbed again, breathing the warmth of the thin broth stew and her child’s salt crusted hair.

“Then – why? Why do you go to – to him?”

“When you’re older you’ll understand.” She rocked her baby gently as she spoke, humming a song she couldn’t quite remember the words of until his tears had stopped. “Little minnow?”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to keep you safe.” Her hands gently tilted his face so that his dark eyes met her own. “He doesn’t visit like he used to, right? You don’t have to be near him, and he can’t be near you if I go to him.”

“It’s not fair,” The boy sobbed, fresh tears slipping through attempted anger.

“I know, my heart, I know.” She kissed the tears from his cheeks, eyes sparkling in the light of the coals. “But I think…I think I’m getting close, to finding – to finding what we need to leave. Forever.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” She picked him up in her arms, the few strides from the kitchen to his bed crossed in silence. “And once I find what we need, we can go anywhere you can dream of.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere. Far, far away from him.”

Finn felt unraveled, a string of a shirt hem pulled undone but still trying to fit its old shape outside of its needle threaded place. Each breath seemed to shred his lungs, the air damp but tinged with a comforting sweetness he couldn’t quite place. Bleary eyes blinked away sleep, quickly adjusting to the darkness. The familiar pitch and roll of a ship at sea rocked a sword on the wall like the pendulum on a masterclock, constant and consistent.

Memory caught in his throat as he breathed too deeply the realization, a hacking cough silenced to a muffled and painful shudder of his chest. Pirates. Tears pricked at his eyes as he sat up, whether from the ache of broken ribs or the thoughts swimming in his frantic skull he couldn’t tell. Pirates killed, tortured, and did worse to prisoners. And as memory flooded back like a returning tide, Finn feared his fate would be the latter.

Tears slid silently down his face as his breathing quickened, an angry voice in his memory scoffing at his composure.

“Quit your sniffling. Crying won’t make it hurt less. It just makes you look more fun to hurt.”

Finn breathed deliberately, curling his hands into fists, and focusing on the fissures of pain between his fingers instead of his terrifying thoughts. Something gurgled in the darkness, and his eyes fought to find the source. Nothing stirred in the room, but as the noise returned, he located the source.

His long empty stomach. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t remember.

His eyes were drawn to the wooden tray beside the bed, divots carved into its surface to hold the cup and deep plate it held even as the sea rocked the ship. He couldn’t tell what liquid might be inside the wooden cup, but the thin crust of bread poked out over the lip of the plate. He licked his cracked lips, tasting only dried blood. Just a piece – no one would even notice, there are always rats stealing crumbs on ships.

But just as his fingers twitched toward the food, the door creaked open, spilling candlelight onto the floor like liquid gold.

Finn froze completely. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink – he just watched the pirate shuffle into the room, steps awkwardly short and careful. The stranger turned his head and also froze, staring back at Finn. He sighed, tense shoulders dropping, and any pretense of stealth dropped.

“Sorry about that, boy,” His voice was softer than Finn imagined a pirate sounding, a gentle accent cloaking his words in wool. “Didn’t mean to wake ye, just wanted to grab my…” The pirate trailed off, gesturing vaguely with a hand before sighing again. He was holding his other arm tightly to his side, shoulder stiff.

Finn stared, unbreathing. The stranger must not have liked that, his thick black brow stitching together. Panic fluttered in the boy’s chest, a fledgling throwing clumsy wings against broken ribs as he drew a slow breath and the pirate’s posture shifted.

“Do you remember me, Finn?” The pirate took a hesitant step forward, and Finn didn’t move – there wasn’t anywhere to run or hide in the small room anyway. But he did steal a glance at the still open door when his name left that man’s lips. The stranger took a step back and gestured to himself with a flourish and bow. “Captain Flint of the Gorgon, at your service!”

Memories trickled like water behind a cracking dam. He remembered darkness and the smell of gunpowder. Then light and shouting and sun on his skin. Then darkness again, the stickiness of spilt ink and sweat. He gave an uncertain nod, hoping to appease the captain’s toothy smile. It seemed to work, Captain Flint straightening and his smile softening.

“Had me worried for a breath there, kid.” The ship pitched, cresting a wave, but the pirate’s steps were steady as he crouched in front of the bed. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”

Yes. But he couldn’t just – was this a test? Was he supposed to answer at all? Finn’s eyes flicked between the captain’s face and the bread beside the bed. Captain Flint nodded to the tray.

“The bread is for you. And the water. Can’t heal if you don’t take care of yourself. Eat, drink – let me know if you want more. I’m sure I can scrounge something up at this hour.” The captain’s eyes were watching, waiting – Finn wanted to hide, to go back to that cargo hold and that box of –

Right. The pelts.

Panic burned bright in Finn’s chest, creeping up his throat and clawing past his teeth in a strangled whine, a tremor working its way up his spine as he felt a frantic need to find that pelt again, to –

“Easy, easy, boy – it’s – you’re alright. You’re alright.”

Finn didn’t understand the pirate – he was not alright. He – pirates were monsters. The Lieutenant and the other officers – their stories about the – the murder and the torture and – and how any pirate would kill him slowly and painfully – and that was if they were merciful and didn’t want to keep him –

“You, you need to calm down, kid.” The captain sat down on the bed, an unsure, calloused hand taking Finn’s own, mindful of his bandages as a thumb stroked over the back of his hand. “You need to breathe, Finn.”

His name made him flinch, eyes snapping from the open door (a way out, escape, freedom – ) to the captain’s eyes. There was worry pinching Captain Flint’s sun weathered face, brow knit and dark eyes swelling with an emotion Finn had never seen directed at himself before. Finn was so scared, but the captain was so worried for him it broke his spiral of despair. His hand twitched, fingers loosely curling to squeeze the pirate’s hand.

“There, there – see? You’re alright. You’re fine, boy. You’re safe here. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not on my ship.”

Finn knew it was smarter to assume it was a lie. He knew it was safer to assume the vile pirate captain was lulling him into a false sense of security, and he should be prepared for the worst.

“You should be grateful, whelp. We’re kinder than any pirate or exile on these seas.”

And yet, something almost instinctive made him reach out, begging comfort from a stranger who had threatened to lash him but didn’t, who hadn’t yelled at or hurt him when he spilled ink, who gave him food and water and promised him safety –

The boy buried his face in the captain’s chest and cried, sniffling sobs turning to keening whimpers when the pirate returned the embrace with an unsure arm. But Finn wasn’t strangled or crushed or clawed at, just… hugged.

How long had it been since someone hugged him?

The last hug he remembered, the last soft touch, the last gentle eyes and hands and words… it must have been his mother.

At that thought his sobs renewed, both bandaged hands grasping at the stranger’s coat as though he would dissolve without this lifeline, swept away in the torrent of grief and fear and sorrow. Captain Flint hummed softly, holding Finn to his chest and combing fingers through his tangled ringlets. In his haze of exhaustion and grief, Finn could almost remember the dream that had woken him. Almost.

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Taglist: @bloodredfountainpen

#whump #fantasy #age of sail #anticipated violence #angst #touch starvation #comfort #past trauma #past abuse #implied past domestic abuse #whump of a minor #minor whump #finning sharks #gonna see about scheduling these every Friday afternoon to not overlap w dogs of war morning posting :]#eheheheh I’m so glad red reminded me of this series I had SO many good idea I’m glad I came back to it

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petrichorium · 8 months

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on plagiarism

when all of this began, i confess i never imagined i'd be involved this closely. i've been a bit on the fringe of it, with many mutuals involved and my own name dragged into the fray briefly but ultimately trying to keep my distance. but in a brief moment of curiosity (or weakness, perhaps) i let myself do some digging and discovered that i, too, was plagiarized by a former mutual whose work i admired greatly.

one of the most beautiful things about this community is how collaborative it is. we are a group of people with mutual interests who found each other on the vast sprawl of the internet, and our creativity is something which grows as a result of each of us working together. the kind of plagiarism i discuss today is hard to spot, easy to dismiss, and above all else painful for the victims. it is difficult to express how nauseating it feels to see someone take an idea and run with it without permission, consideration, or credit, all while it remains so subtle that you feel nobody will believe you.

Plagiarism, by definition, is "to steal and pass off the ideas or words of another as one's own; to use another's production without crediting the source; to commit literary theft; to present as new and original an idea or product derived from an existing source" (from merriam-webster, because wouldn't it be ironic if i didn't clarify?). Note, please, the use of "idea." Nobody is fool enough to think plagiarism must be exact 1:1 wording. If you're claiming that, you're very certainly being purposefully obtuse.

the evidence i present below is clear, in my opinion. i'm not going to leave names out of it—the accused has already outed herself and has claimed to have left her blog, so I have no reason to coddle her, and equally there is no sense in reporting or engaging with it in any way. it shouldn't have to be said, but don't harass her; whether or not her blog is truly abandoned, any asks could still make it to her. Obviously sending harassment at any time is childish, cruel, and reprehensible, and nobody is deserving of it.

The plagiarist is @/shiinleaf. there is another player in this game, @/seoafin, who also fell victim to the same scenario twice. seoafin made her own callout post (politely lacking in names) and shiinleaf made her own response, both of which I will link now.

[seoafin's post regarding plagiarism]

[shiinleaf’s response in defense]

I also want to say, to be honest, I wouldn't give much of a damn about this if not for the context. i wrote a one sentence textpost and shiinleaf made her own imitation a week later, then elaborated upon it. the single sentence (and a few tags) is all that i provided; while the lack of interaction and credit hurt, i wouldn't much care...

if not for seoafin's experiences. make no mistake, my evidence here is intended to support hers; to bolster her arguments and to provide further proof of shiinleaf's actions. While her claims might be subtle, my own are more blatant, and help to establish a clear pattern of behavior which is neither respectful nor considerate of fellow authors. This is further proven by the hate that seoafin received for speaking up—the very reason I’m choosing to come forward. While the initial crime might be something unworthy of speaking about publicly, I won’t stand by while a fellow victim is harassed and gaslit in her own askbox.

anyway. im done grandstanding. I have screenshots and links so let's get into this.

i preface this by saying that while i was vaguely aware of this situation—as i was up until recently mutuals with shiinleaf (xin) and only mutuals-in-law with seoafin (morgan) and, thus, friends with many people with full knowledge of and involved in the entire debacle—i largely made an effort to keep out of the situation, despite (in a situation which i really can't get into) my name being dragged into it in private, resulting in me soft blocking xin.

my interest was reignited last evening, however, after many vague posts by mutuals which made me check shiinleaf's blog out of curiosity. i saw that xin had gone through and reblogged nearly all of her old writing, and near the top a post caught my eye.

the post was a brief textpost about the honkai: star rail character Jing Yuan, later elaborated upon in a followup reblog. This had been posted in July, and something about the phrasing and the timestamp made me pause.

I have made a few posts in the past about characters who "like brats," specifically not "to tame." I remembered making one about Jing Yuan many months ago. So, I went digging in my blog's archive, and sure enough I found it.

Here are the two initial posts side-by-side. My post is dated July 19th at 11:37pm. Xin's is dated almost exactly a week later, July 27th at 5:13am. Additionally, I've provided a screenshot of the first sentence of the followup reblog; note the specific usage of "brats"/"bratty", "not taming," and "likes the chase."

[link to xin's initial post] [link to xin's follow-up reblog]

[link to my post]

As the final nail in the coffin, here is a video of my post with proof that Xin saw it: she gave it a like. Note that this post was reblogged once and had only six likes; it wasn't a popular post whatsoever.

Finally, an interesting thing to note (though not altogether suspicious) is that xin states in the tags of her followup reblog that she has written a "7k word fic" about the concept discussed. She later states in a reblog from the 23rd that this fic was her fic Filler, one which she also has stated that she began on the 19th of July—the same day as my initial post. These coincidences, unfortunately, only keep adding up.

[link to xin's recent reblog of the plagiarized post]

[link to xin's recent reblog of Filler]

(note: the precise timeline of Filler does not line up exactly with the premise that it was created solely due to my post; the screenshots provided of the fic's document predate my own post by many hours. However, I am not claiming that the entire fic is based upon my post. That would be absurd, it's literally one sentence and a few tags. By xin's own admission, however, the fic was based upon many things including the premise potentially provided by myself—it is entirely within the realm of plausibility for her to have begun Filler and allowed my post to impact her writing of it, especially seeing as she, without a doubt, saw my post within hours of beginning the fic)

Now, I'd like to make myself perfectly clear here. This incident, were it isolated, would not make me call someone out. I understand that this community is full of authors inspiring one another. My post was a brief, fleeting idea which I did not elaborate upon; what she potentially did with that idea, to be frank, was absolutely phenomenal, and I am by no means whatsoever taking credit for ANYTHING beyond my initial post. Xin has stated that Filler in particular was a deeply personal fic for her, based upon her cultural and familial experiences—I would never dream of taking away from that. I think it's a fic that she should be proud of, and frankly I’d feel honored if I played any part in its creation.

However, it is abundantly clear in my opinion (from the fact that my post was liked, from the evident timeline, and from my own wording being ripped almost exactly) that xin drew inspiration from me and made no effort to give me the proper credit. This was not collaboration but rather a purposeful choice to use my own idea as a jumping off point and pass it off as her own. We weren't mutuals at the time, but I had seen her in my notifs frequently; had she added to my post, I would have been delighted. And my dms are also open, if she had been concerned about my response she could have asked me for permission. Unfortunately, she did neither of those things, and so here we are.

More importantly, however, I come forward with this—as stated initially—with the intent to defend seoafin (morgan), who came forward with her own post regarding xin's plagiarism. [morgan's post linked here again] please note that morgan took care not to mention xin, her blog, or directly link any xin's relevant fics. However, my own experience only bolsters the credibility of morgan's accusations. Once again, i wouldn't be coming forward if i were the only victim, but morgan has been inundated with asks since she made the accusation and i found it vital to support her claims. From vitriolic harassment to gaslighting to death threats, the response to morgan's post has been troubling, and i (futilely, im sure) hope that my own post will put an end to this. a clearly established pattern has been shown—three instances among two different authors of xin taking inspiration without credit—and i think it's fair to say that my evidence is solid.

i'll leave with another soapbox paragraph to match the beginning. up until this incident... i had been mutuals with xin. i had seen her in my notifs for months before i followed back, including when she chose to steal my idea. i held great respect for her work; i considered her a very talented author, and to an extent I still do—I genuinely can’t emphasize enough that I’m sure hardly a fraction of my impact potentially made it into Filler, and it remains one of my favorite Jing Yuan fics out there. my heart aches at how this turned out, not simply for her plagiarism but for her actions since she was found out. I simply can’t wrap my head around everything that’s transpired these past few weeks.

thank you all reading. i hope i didn't drag on too long. im done now i promise 🫶🏻

#damn. cant believe I’m making my first callout post #we r reaching milestones at record place on this blog #but only the worst ones #n e way. written last night but scheduled for this morning 🫶🏻

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captainswan618 · 3 months

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Ok so I was going to watch Heaven Sent with @darlsbardlife tonight, but she and two other people convinced me to wait until tomorrow night, because I have a quiz tomorrow that I haven’t studied for yet, and apparently I will NOT be able to concentrate on work afterward. All three of them agreed that it was one of the best episodes in the entire show, if not the best. So now I’m kind of terrified lmao???

Also, I’ve been really looking forward to River coming back (since I’ve seen some spoilers and I know she’s in some eps soon), so of course I’m getting my hopes up that she’ll be in this episode. But I’m kinda worried that she won’t be in it, and it’ll just be good for other (presumably valid but rn idc - I miss her, okay????) reasons rip

(Anyway PLEASE no spoilers, even as small as hints about whether River is in it. I don’t want to know until I’ve watched it!!)

#if you really want to talk about it on this post just rb it and schedule it for like friday morning (edt)#ANYWAY I’m starting work now I promise #I just had to get this out #it was such a strong consensus; can you blame me for being scared???#doctor who #twelfth doctor #heaven sent

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cptnwynnie · 10 months

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Some doodles for @mashpotatoequeen’s fic forks since I reread it for the millionth time

#tmbs #the mysterious benedict society #sq pedalian #fr everyone should read this fic #it’s one of the first fic I read for this fandom #it’s SO good #go read it #posting this in the middle of the night cus I’m impatient lol <3 #I’ll rb it in the morning for everyone who has normal healthy sleep schedules #the cut outs of bits started as me just needing the lines there #to keep track of what I was picturing #and then it just became Part Of The Art #isn’t art just so much fun like that :)#art #fanart #my art

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fruixtii · 6 months

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Someone talk to me or ask me about diasomnia. I can’t sleep and I’m bored

#I could possibly have insomnia but also my sleep schedule is probably just wack because of winter break #also. remember my insomniac lilia headcanon #I’m genuinely confused how Silver was raised #cuz aren’t they supposed to be nocturnal #for nrc they have to sleep at night anyways but #did lilia change his sleeping schedule for Silver?#or do they just not need as much sleep as humans do so they only sleep for a few hours?#but since it’s canon that malleus and lilia stay up really late anyways in nrc #I like to think they don’t have classes in the morning #twst posting #diasomnia brainrot

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pdalicedraws · 9 months

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Nobody's having a good time!

[first] [previous] [next]

[index]

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona comic #nimona film #nimona webcomic #nimona netflix #nimona graphic novel #nimona crossover #nimonaverse #pd alice draws #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona nimona #dr meredith blitzmeyer #why are all my favourite panels of this comic!Amb having a very bad time #I finished and scheduled this page to post like a week early #and now it is 5am the morning it’s going to go up and I rocketed up like I FORGOT BAL’S EYE SCAR #asdfghjklkjhgfd embarrassing #and yet I’m still telling y’all about it even though I have now fixed it so you would never know

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nekropsii · 1 year

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LEET amount of followers…

#yes 1 is also used as an L in some forms of leetspeak #also I’m scheduling this at 3 in the morning so it may not be accurate by the time it posts…#nekro.txt

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dihalect · 9 months

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here's a thing about palestine/israel that i can't stop thinking about. supporting an ethnostate, apartheid, and/or genocide seems like just about the most un-jewish thing one could possibly do. i genuinely do not get it.

like. irl, i've been osmosizing jewish culture and scholarship for the past several years. the impression i’ve gotten is of a people who has undergone untold amounts of discrimination and violence over the past couple millennia, and who is proud of their resilience in the face of that oppression. i know that enduring oppression doesn’t necessarily make someone a good person. and obviously, no group is a monolith. but my impression has been that recognizing that harm and defending other downtrodden groups was a common principle of jewish culture. hell, that’s why my alma mater was founded — so i was living in that legacy for the past ~6 years.

even if you think jewish people have the sole right to the land that we call israel, the israeli state's treatment of palestinians flies in the face of all of that. to go "fuck you, i got mine"*, treat another ethnic group as second-class citizens, and concentrate, blockade, and slaughter them seems completely irreconcilable with what i have come to know and appreciate as jewish values. a complete betrayal.

like. am i missing something big here or

*or, more accurately, “i will fuck you over to get mine”

edit: obviously not every jewish person supposed israel/is zionist. but, as we’ve all seen jewish anti-zionists say recently, most jewish ppl in the imperial core are. and this genocidal ethnostate calls itself ~the jewish state~.

#i’m genuinely asking here.#in fact‚ i’m scheduling this post for sunday morning bc i know that some of the ppl who could answer this keep shabbat.#txt #i've been wanting to convert for a long time #and honestly‚ participating in pro-palestinian action has made me feel closer to that.#nothing makes me feel more in-tune with jewish values than fighting for the liberation of an oppressed group.#but i've realized that this is going to make it way way harder to find (a) rabbi(s) to help me convert.#because (1) i get the impression that anti-zionist rabbis are hard to come by‚ (2) obviously i want palestine freed‚ and #(3) for the reasons stated above‚ zionism strikes me as absurdly hypocritical for a scholar of judaism.#and it's incompatible with the jewish values that i want to embody.#ngl i’m crying a bit #edited slightly for words

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