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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 6 days ago

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Somehow, Through the Storm

Summary:

Living in the slums of the Warehouse District, Kaz and Inej are struggling to cling on to life through a seemingly unending winter. Wrapped up in a stranger's overcomplicated marriage contract that he is convinced is key to solving the merciless weather, Kaz remains busy and distracted for days on end, putting everything else at risk. So when a storm ravages the city and sweeps Inej into danger, the offer of safety, food, and a place to stay is an overwhelming one - no matter the cost. Terrified of mounting threats, Inej signs a contract - not knowing she would land herself trapped at the Menagerie. Kaz signs a contract that states if he can walk all the way through the city and back to the Warehouse District with Inej behind him, never looking back at her, they will both go free. But this is the Barrel, the darkest part of the city where the rules of physics can change with the stroke of a pen; the journey back will not be the same as journey there…

This is a Hadestown-inspired reimagining of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, casting Kaz and Inej as our main characters and heavily featuring our beloved Crows, set in an alternate version of the Grishaverse with a different magic system based entirely on contracts.

Tags: @lunarthecorvus @marielaure @multi-fandom-bi @igotthisaccountunderduress @thelibraryofalexandriastillburns @devoted-people-hater @spraypaintstainonawhitewall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list let me know <3

Warnings for this chapter: abuse references, financial abuse, slavery references (similar to Kerch indenture contracts), implied violence, implied fear of violence and sa, ptsd, implied potentially forced marriage

AO3 link:

Chapter 12 - Kaz

“But when I saw you there against the sky - it’s like I’d known you all along. I knew you before we met, and I don’t even know you yet. All I know’s you’re someone I have always known,”

- All I’ve Ever Known, Hadestown

“Well?” asked Inej, as she slid in through the open window behind Kaz’s desk.

She was exactly on time, of course. How could it be that, after so little time of knowing her, he already felt so easily used to her presence? How could he so comfortably believe that she would arrive exactly when she’d said she would? She had already become a reliable presence, as if she’d been there all along. Or as if something had been missing when she wasn’t.

Kaz didn’t look up straight away; he tracked the shape of her footsteps across the boards behind him as he turned a page of the document stretched out before him and waited for her to round the desk. He couldn’t hear her, exactly, even when he was tuned in to her movements as closely as he was now, but he knew where she was. As she slipped slowly into view, her steps light as ever but her fist tightening, just slightly, on the strap of her bag as she peered over the table, she seemed to linger for a moment, stretching something out for as long as she so pleased, before she said:

“Is that it?”

She was looking at the contract laid open under Kaz’s gloved hands.

“Any property owned by this Partner before marriage,” he read aloud, “and any property inherited or received as a gift during this marriage, is hereby defined as the singular property of the spouse, relinquished freely and under the will of Ghezen by this Partner,”

Inej crinkled her nose.

“Yes,” he said, dropping the page and finally allowing himself to look up at her, “This is very much it. And that is quite possibly the least offensive sentence I’ve read so far,”

Kaz was not making an overstatement.

It had barely been ten minutes since Wylan left the store rooms upstairs at Lexi’s that Kaz generously thought of as an office. He hadn’t stayed for long. There hadn’t yet been much time at all to read through the document, and the writing had been made as overcomplicated as possible in most areas as though to delay the reader for as long as possible, yet Kaz had still already found far worse sentences than that one. It would be a complex web to untangle from the writing alone, and everywhere so far that he thought he’d found the tiniest oversight, the slightest loose thread to start pulling, the single crack from which to start tearing down the wall, it would take only moments for him to be blockaded once again.

He had thought, when he first glanced over the sentence he read to Inej, that there was one thing Marya Van Eck could do to acquire property her husband would not subsequently own: there was no mention of purchase under separate funds. Many marriage contracts stated that property acquired under separate funds would either be the shared property of the couple or the singular property of the buyer, that was always the sort of thing the Kerch had very clear ideas about to take into their marriages, and Kaz was familiar enough with the language of contracts to notice it being missing. But he found it didn’t matter: Marya Van Eck had no separate funds. By the contract, all of her money, any money she inherited, and any money she was gifted, belonged to Jan Van Eck. Kaz had wondered if she could earn her own money but the contract covered that as well - she was legally barred from entering, or perhaps re-entering though Kaz doubted it, any form of workforce. And this one was complicated, he would need to study it for longer, because it seemed that this clause would never be terminated in any situation, but so far he had found no information as to what might happen if Marya was widowed. If there was no support set up, and if she could not work even in the event of Van Eck’s death, what was she supposed to do with no income and, at least as far as she knew, no child to support her? Kaz didn’t even know how a contract could enforce that, but if a Grisha had written it… nature would find a way of stopping her. He’d once seen a girl contracted to a house in the Zelvar District try to step over the border she was confined by. It had not been pretty.

“Surely that’s not legal?” asked Inej, pulling out a chair opposite him.

The sun had not long since peaked its midday arc through a mist of pale grey cloud, which was hanging low over the city and harbouring with it the ever present threat of rain. The frost had lessened, just slightly, today, but the colour was still high in Inej’s cheeks since stepping in from the cold. Her jacket was pulled tight over her shoulders, or as tight as it could be with the ill-fitting nature of its neckline, and Kaz found his eyes drifting over her hair - two plaits, tucked inside a thin scarf, as though having them low around her neck, instead of in their usual tight coil, might add an extra layer of warmth over her skin. The scarf was new. Well judging by the fraying fabric it had been bought second hand, but it was new either to Inej’s possession or Kaz’s sight. Dark purple, a flighty sort of material wind wound her multiple times, half caught in her collar, a loose front edge that wasn’t quite long enough to turn again tucked into her buttoned-up jacket. For an entirely strange moment, he thought she looked like she belonged in the University District; she ought to be bumping shoulders with laughing friends, all variously either under or overdressed for the weather as students always seemed to be, inhaling the steam of tea in paper cups clutched between mittened fingers as they walked together between the wide, clean streets towards a library or lecture hall. He forced his eyes to the window.

The frost was sure to return with full force again in no time. If it got much colder the rain might even turn to hail - and then wouldn’t Kaz have a problem? It would be sure to incur further damages to his roof.

“Technically,” he said, concentration returning to the page, “There are laws in place to protect property and income of both spouses only in the event that their marriage contract does not specify otherwise. From a legal perspective, she consented to hand the entire Hendriks’ family fortune to him,”

Freely and under the will of Ghezen. There was a knot forming in Kaz's stomach.

“Of course, marriage contracts aren’t usually drafted by Grisha. I couldn’t tell you if that in and of itself is illegal, but a good amount of the clauses in here are,”

“But then how-?”

Kaz had released a short, humourless laugh before Inej had even finished her question. For a while, she fell silent.

…any property inherited or received as a gift during this marriage, is hereby defined as the singular property of the spouse, relinquished freely and under the will of Ghezen by this Partner, Kaz reread, The Partners ___M.H.___ and ___J.V.___ hereby agree to the above terms, naming ___M.H.___ as the Partner in question and ___J.V.___ as the aforementioned spouse, and that they agree that the Ghemens Bank is authorised to make final decisions on all property disputes brought before the court.

The detail about the Ghemens Bank was standard for all property-based or monetary disputes within marriages - clearly, he thought, they had used a more traditional marriage contract for the framework. Everything down to the repeated initials, handwritten repeatedly through the entire document by Marya and Jan themselves, looked like it ought to be normal. What was decidedly less traditional, however, was the sentence immediately following:

The Partner ___M.H.___ hereby freely and under the will of Ghezen waives their right to bring any dispute of this nature to court. The Partner acknowledges their decision to sign this contract of their own free will and agrees that they understand any property dispute shall be settled according to the clauses outlined above whether in or out of court. Failures to comply with agreed upon clauses are outlined in Clause 10.7.

Kaz felt something inside him clench, just slightly, and he twisted his fingers inside his gloves as he involuntarily found himself studying the neat ink of Marya’s initials, over and over again until they began to morph into different letters. M.H. M. H. M. H. M. H. J. R. J. R.

He wasn’t even sure how long he’d just been sitting there, staring blankly through the page, by the time he finally forced his eyes away.

“Are you staying at the Slat tonight?”

Inej had pulled her feet up onto the chair with her, so her boots stuck out from beneath her folded legs, and her hands were partly hidden where she’d pulled the long edge of her scarf out of her jacket and began to fidget with it. Kaz was pretty sure that she’d been just as far from the room as he had been, but when he spoke she seemed to land with a crash. She tilted her face towards his and held his gaze for a tiny, lingering moment before she spoke.

“I need to talk to you about that,” she said, slowly, as though the words were rehearsed and she was making sure she remembered them correctly, “I don’t… It can’t be the best arrangement for you,”

Kaz shrugged.

“I work most nights,”

“You work every day as well, Kaz,” her voice was soft, “Are you telling me you never sleep?”

Truth be told, Kaz slept as rarely as he could permit himself to do so. But that was not a thought, let alone a conversation, that he wanted to open any time soon, so he only gave her a short nod of concession.

“It isn’t sustainable for either of us to carry on like that,”

“What are you suggesting?” he asked.

“A deal. Take whatever you think is enough for the room out of what you’re paying me. I can’t be found there, I know, so you can add extra for the risk if you want to. I’ll rig something up to sleep in that can be dismantled quickly, and I’ll put it up near your desk so I’m not invading your room. If you really don’t mind it, that’s more than enough for me - and temporarily, of course, until I find somewhere else to stay,”

Kaz wanted to tell her that it wasn’t necessary - not all of it, anyway. But he had seen the creeping, frightened energy fizzling at her edges whenever she tried to approach anything adjacent to this subject over the past few days. Hell, she’d given him a harder hit to the palm than he reckoned she’d even realised when he accidentally took her by surprise near the market.

“For as long as you need it,” he nodded, then held out his gloved hand out across the desk, “The deal is the deal,”

“The deal is the deal,”

They shook.

“How’s this?” asked Inej, turning from her work to face Kaz.

She was standing next to the larger window in the attic room of the Slat, and an unusually beautiful sunset was leaking through the panes to drench her skin in gold. Kaz felt the breath catch at the back of his throat as he looked up, and silently dug his teeth into the hidden flesh of his lip.

“Fine,” he said, “So long as it’s comfortable,”

It had been two days since he and Inej struck their deal to share the attic, and Inej had spent the past twenty minutes rigging a hammock between the edge of the partition wall and window frame. She’d put the nails up yesterday, after Kaz managed to syphon a few off Anika, as well as borrowing a hammer from her, and this evening the job was finally done. Kaz watched as she planted her hands onto the fabric and hopped into its cradle, annoyed at how nervous he felt but still letting his gaze flick to the makeshift hooks to make sure they were remaining secure under her weight. By the time he looked back again Inej had already flopped onto her back, one arm stretched above her head, and pushed her foot against the wall to make the hammock swing gently from side to side.

“It’s definitely not in the way?”

“No,”

“And when I take it down-”

“Just pull the ropes out and lay it on the bed like it’s a blanket. He won’t look too hard,”

Inej rolled onto her stomach and then pressed her hands deep into the fabric so she could push her head up above the edge. A few hairs had come loose from her braid and were now ever so slightly frazzled by their contact with the fabric; just enough that a couple had raised upwards and were now shimmering in the lowering rays of sunlight.

“This is cosier than you might think, you know,” she smiled, then peered at the boards below her and added with a laugh: “Now I just have to figure out how to get down again,”

Kaz had never heard her laugh before.

The rest of the evening seemed to fade before him, and only when he heard Inej stifling a yawn did he realise that the sun had long since set and the city was well and truly buried into the darkest depths of night. He left her to prepare for sleep and took the opportunity to return Anika’s hammer, then knocked on the door and waited until it cautiously creaked open.

“We need a way for me to know that it’s you,” Inej murmured, as she pushed the door closed again and pressed her back up against it, “It would be a pretty inconvenient way to get caught if I just opened the door,”

She made a good point. They settled, until they could come up with a more secure plan, on Kaz always knocking three times. And that was it, really. The first night. It was strangely easy.

“I can go out a while,” Inej said, a week later when Kaz was working after the sun had set, “If I’m distracting you,”

She was sitting cross-legged on her hammock, swaying ever so slightly back and forth, her hands folded into her lap. Kaz had found, though admittedly it was somewhat unexpected, that he didn’t find it distracting at all to have Inej in the room whilst he worked. Or while he did anything, really. Her presence was almost comforting, a routine so easily slipped into that he didn’t even have a chance to question it, and he was now forced to confront what had become fact: he wanted her to be there.

“You aren’t,” was all he managed to say.

Inej peeked over the edge of the hammock with an almost playful smile.

“Is that your way of saying you like me?” she asked, and before he even had a chance to register the words - let alone formulate a reply - she clicked her tongue and tutted as she rolled over, “Don’t go getting attached, Kaz,” she yawned softly, “I’ll be gone by spring,”

Kaz smiled, glancing at the back of her head from the corner of his eyes as she settled on her side. It was only hours later, when he was finally setting down his quill and preparing to blow out his candle, that he realised Inej had fallen asleep, for the first time, whilst Kaz was still in the room with her.

Time marched on, as it always did. Winter remained as impenetrable as ever, and Kaz’s work on trying to understand the Van Eck contract remained as fruitless as the barren trees standing gnarled and lonely along the edge of the canal. Rain came and went, often enough for him and Inej to patch leaks in the roof of the Slat side by side, but no hail fell.

“I have something for you,” Kaz had said, two weeks after Inej had moved properly into the Slat, when he returned home one night.

Inej looked up, questions in her eyes.

“It’s for work,” he added, without changing his tone, “I said I’d teach you to fight,”

“You said I’d need to know how to,”

Kaz nodded.

“You will,”

He’d been keeping her out of jobs that might run her in close proximity to any of the other roughed up crews in the Warehouse District, but he needed information and he couldn’t sideline her forever.

“Brass knuckles,” he said, “as useful as they are, aren’t going to cut it. I need information about a gang that own one of the gambling dens on the edge of the District; if anyone sees you-”

“They won’t,”

“Humour me?”

Inej nodded. Kaz slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, biting blade. It was nothing particularly special, he supposed, but he’d bought it new from a smiths on the other side of town and it sat snug and neat in its perfect black leather sheath, metal shining and ready to bear its teeth when you pulled it free. Inej lifted it slowly from the leather, testing the weight of it in each hand, and then suddenly thrust her arm forwards to make a slash through the air. It was a surprisingly well controlled motion. Inej looked up at Kaz and smiled.

At first, he had Jesper actually teaching her. They would meet during the day, outdoors, and each evening when Inej returned she would tell Kaz what they’d worked on. He couldn’t have ever explained why, one night, he was able to show her where she’d slipped up, just slightly, in her form and show her how to hold it better. He didn’t even know that it would happen, until the words had left his mouth. And he definitely didn’t know what had happened in between then and now for them to end up standing opposite each other in the widest piece of space the attic could provide them, hands raised. But fighting, even like this, was easier than real touch. Kaz knew exactly what would happen, could track all of it with little thought, had time to prepare himself and anticipate the motions. And then they were doing it every night. Time that Kaz had spent losing his mind as he poured over the Van Eck contract was now filled with training, routine, rhythmic, almost wordless sometimes. As days and then weeks began to creep by, training and talking became interchangeable. Kaz heard Inej laugh again, and again and again and again. She told him that she’d named the knife he bought her after Sankt Petyr and he rolled his eyes; there was something almost satisfying about the little furrow that formed between her brows at that. Talking, training, debating, easy silence. All of it was routine. All of it was safe.

Every morning Inej would stretch before she took down the hammock and bundled the ropes into her satchel. Every evening, and most days, they split for whatever they were working on - Kaz would pass his time arranging jobs, sorting Haskell’s runners and adding in a little of his own products out of sight; Inej would collect her secrets, run jobs with the Slat’s other residents. Every night she would debrief him, and they would talk or train or both or neither, sometimes for hours on end.

And every night before she went to bed she reminded him, smiling:

“Don’t expect to see me tomorrow. I’ll be gone by spring,”

But every morning she was there, curled on her side, her braid lying about her or drooping over the edge of the hammock and swinging lightly in the still, early air. Kaz didn’t know why but one morning, after over two months had inexplicably passed by, he paused, just for a moment, and watched her. He tried not to be here when she woke up, to give her as much privacy as walls as tight as these could allow either of them, but now he stood and watched her oil black lashes fluttering lightly against her cheeks, the slight rise and fall of her shoulders with every breath. She sighed softly and nestled herself deeper into the thin fabric, and Kaz suddenly found himself resisting the need to lift the edge of her blanket higher so it would properly cover her shoulders. He needed to give himself a firm shake.

That night, when Inej slipped off her perch on the windowsill and told him not to expect to see her again because she’d be gone by spring, he found the words I’ll miss you trying to force their way past his lips. He swallowed them, and instead what tumbled out became:

“Be sure to write,”

Inej released a soft laugh, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Are you hiding a secret proficiency for Ravkan from me, Kaz? You know I can’t write in Kerch,”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but he said it anyway:

“Maybe we should change that,”

Inej sat on top of the desk. Kaz didn’t know why she insisted on doing so, possibly putting the questionable integrity of the haphazardly makeshift table at risk when he had a perfectly good chair to offer her, but he was not going to complain. He wrote out the alphabet slowly, repeating each sound and giving Inej the pen to write out each letter phonetically for herself in Ravkan - or maybe Suli? He didn’t really know what the letters for either looked like. The wind creaked through the gaps of the draughty old house and the candle on the desk died; in the unexpected darkness Kaz and Inej both fumbled across the desk to find a matchbox and their hands met against the table. Kaz froze.

His hand was beneath Inej’s. It was trapped, pinned in place, even with the barrier of leather between them it was soaking wet and it would not answer any command to move. He felt his breath catching in his throat, his chest so tight that it may have been caving in on itself.

“Kaz?”

Inej had already pulled her hand away. It had barely been for a moment. There was no pressure, no weight, no feeling of skin pressing against skin. But Kaz felt like he was burning. Or like he was drowning.

There was a brief shuffling sound and then Inej was holding a lit match up between their faces, the orange flickering across her cheeks and reflecting in her eyes, bouncing through her hair, casting thick shadows of her lashes.

“Kaz, are you alright?”

The fire danced over her features. She was burning. She was a body on the Reaper’s Barge and she was burning.

Kaz stumbled to his feet, shoving his chair backwards without intent or direction. He couldn't be here anymore. He couldn’t - he couldn’t -

Kaz marched out of the room, the door swinging firmly shut in his wake, Inej’s eyes boring straight through his back to find something dark and wretched hidden deep within his soul.

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gvenevera · 1 year ago

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May I share some opinions about Katsuki’s final line the chapter 405? I’ve been trying to understand why fans on both sides are nitpicking on this particular panel and I want to explore what happened.

(Please mind that I’m not a Japanese expert nor a native but I have been studying the language and following both MHA manga and fandom for years, so I do have some experience on the matter. Oh and I’ll declare my Conflict of Interest as a Bakudeku shipper, but I do know how to stand on neutral grounds.)

Jpn: OFA (あいつ) に拭うねーもんは、こっちで拭うってなあああ!!!

Caleb’s version: OFA couldn’t keep you on the ground, but we’ll finish the job and then some!

In this sentence, “OFA” was meant to represent Izuku, as Horikoshi had clearly written for us in superscript. However even if you ignore the double meaning, OFA = Izuku, AM and the vestiges. In this scenario, all of them were already fighting against AFO and Shigaraki on the battlefield. So when Katsuki said that “he” is stepping in, it means exactly that, even though こっち isn’t specifically a singular pronoun, because he was the only other person on that battlefield. There is no “we” in this scene!

(Or if we want to be technical, there’s Edgeshot who’s out of commission. Best Jeanist, Mirio and Gentle are on Troy somewhere and they COULD be part of the collective “we” but they weren’t shown jumping in to help in this chapter either, so very low chance it could allude to them.)

Unless of course, Caleb took it too literally and thought that OFA alludes to the quirk itself. In this case, his English translation might be something like: “The ultimate power of OFA quirk couldn’t stop you (AFO+Shiggy) but we (Katsuki, Izuku, AM and the other heroes) will finish the job (by power of teamwork?)” Which is an understandable sentence in itself, but not accurate to the literal Japanese text. At all.

That’s not to mention the other missed opportunities in this panel alone, such as the callback to Katsuki’s apology in the rain. The “and then some” line was actually correct English, but it was such a rarely used phrase that it was jarring spoken from a teenager.

Tl;dr - yes, I think Caleb’s English translation for this page in particular was not satisfactory.

Listen, I know translations are hard, especially in languages like Japanese where people tend to omit pronouns or phrases in their speech. That’s why I stick around on leak nights to pick up the raw scans, and I try not to nitpick on manga translations too much. Heck, even other fan translations added their own flairs! - TBC’s version outright had Katsuki call out “Deku” which could be a controversy in itself (a reference to Hori’s intention but not 100% confirmed, and one may wonder if Katsuki would choose to refer to him by Deku or Izuku in this scenario). But I could see why fans on this side of the fandom are mad about this chapter, and I think it is fair of them to put an appeal with the official translation website. After all, it is customer feedback, the least they can do is get more unbiased translators to weigh in their opinions.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #spoilers #MHA 405 #BNHA 405 #manga translation #comments welcomed!#I just wanna add my two cents but X algorithm sucks #like I said I give translators the benefit of doubt always #but I’ve a feeling this guy has an anti bkdk agenda #I’m even thinking the reason so many English fans hate bkdk is because their translation sucks #at least the eng dub team can think for themselves instead of following the manga #but the changed translations ALSO confused people so it’s a hassle #you’d think following a mainstream shounen manga is easy but it’s not lol

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dailycass-cain · 1 year ago

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#19 marks the end of the Batgirls. Here are my thoughts for the final time for this series. Where I'll talk about the good, the bad, and all about the Cass.

I'll admit I'm a bit melancholy even knowing there's still a future for Cass. The series while might have been what many wanted. It was what I wanted. Just Cass/Steph having adventures.

Though Steph got the raw end of the deal throughout most of the series, I was glad to see for the final issue she absolutely owns this issue.

Not just in her fight with Gunbunny, but also in talking Grace down from killing the villain. The moment where she just goes full-on has been a Steph moment I've been aching to see in this series.

But to be fair, she did get that moment as Girl-Bat in #16 and standing up to her father the prior issue (#15). Just it been a recurring theme for Steph struggling when I get it (it's her character arc) and it's always great seeing Steph just own the moment.

Part of me is terrified for the character's future, but then again if Cass keeps getting the stuff she is. Maybe there's a chance.

Just that this "x-over" that's going to "fracture" the Bat Family. It just feels like cheap heat from the inevitable "healing" story.

Anyway, I'm glad Steph got this moment because the character deserves this and more. Other than Cass, Steph has been through A LOT as well character-wise.

Sadly, of the three Batgirls (and Robins) seems like always getting the short end of the stick.

But I really did enjoy this moment whatever the x-over in September brings for Steph. I'm glad Batgirls gave us one happy moment for the character to shine. I just wish again, this series just didn't have to end.

For Cass? Her moment in the issue was shorter but it was still all the sweeter her taking down "Gunhawk". I mean the twist everyone saw coming and I'm glad writers Michael Conrad and Becky Cloonan treat it as such.

No monologue from who "Gunhawk" is just Cass owning him and hard. That and again the writers showcase all of David Cain's bastard training with her easily finding the other sniper's nest.

Though I confess there was an added bonus this issue when it comes to Cass. Artist Robbi Rodriguez drew Cass in her old Batgirl attire this issue (sans mask).

I mean it is sort of a treat to FINALLY see this show up in the series. So I'm glad we got that as well.

Likewise, we got one final awing moment between Cass/Steph. It may not have been a kiss but seeing Cass smirking at Steph leaning her head on her shoulder.

Yeah... I'll take it. I wish we can get more but it'll do.

For Babs, yeah she didn't do a lot this issue. I was okay with her showing in this issue and arc to be the rock for Cass/Steph. While they were investigating she was as well and scheming for the villains' downfall.

As for the final page. It truly is a nice coda for Cass/Steph. Both characters had gone thru DC Comics' grinder from various periods starting in '04 but mainly 2009-2020.

Treating the legacy mantle of Batgirl so carelessly.

Since the first issue, I treated this series as a gift. So did the creators of this series. So to see this as the final words for the series. Yeah, it hits me.

Do I wish Bette, Helena, and Charlotte appeared in the series? YES. But did this series give Cass/Steph fans what they wanted? YES.

For Cass? I'd say that answer was yes in spades.

To that end, I want to thank all the creators who worked on this book. You all gave us a treat I never in my wildest mind ever thought we'd get. This comic was special for me. It may not have given us the grit or overall tone that many wanted. But---

It opened the door for new fans to learn of the characters. To learn that Batgirl just isn't one singular person behind the identity but multiple.

That it is a legacy mantle again after what the New 52 did to it and the characters.

I feel like there's no real way to fully end this but to quote from a certain trickster, but give it my modified taste.

Goodbye, Batgirls. I'm gonna miss you. You had such potential (and still do). But then again, all good things must come to an end.

Fare thee well.

#dc comics #cassandra cain #my thoughts #stephanie brown #batgirls #BATGIRLS4EVER

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pennypenpen · 2 years ago

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Why Total Drama (2023)'s Finale is some of the worst offical TD Media I've seen, and how overall, ruin my enjoyment of the season.

[OBVIOUS SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE OF TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND (2023) AND TW: MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE]

So, I was watching—or should I say rewatching—the finale with a friend of mine, and I noticed the mistreatment of Millie has got to be one of the worst things that Total Drama has ever approved of. Not only is it realistically upsetting and sad to see but the episode itself was just one big “Bully Millie” party for Priya and Bowie.

Priya was justified in getting angry with Millie about the notes, yes, I will not deny her that; however, her treatment with Millie was not only uncharacteristically awful but disgusting as well. Not only did she go in-depth about how much she wants to put Millie down, but is also shoving it in her face because of what? Not to mention, nearly killing herself just because of what Millie did, literally almost dying in a pit of lava. Honestly, for 12 episodes straight, Priya was an okay character, a bit bland but alright. However, in one singular episode, she basically became unredeemable, and no. Her asking about the last page of the note and forgiving Millie is not only a rushed conclusion but unjustified by Priya’s behaviour as well.

Bowie isn’t innocent either, matter of fact, he’s nearly worse than Priya. Of course, he was playing the game (I’m emphasizing on was) but the fact that he not only shared Millie’s notebook—RIGHT AFTER they became legit friends, and they're only friends, he decided to rip them apart and show BOTH of their true colors (Millie was the target but it also showed Priya’s color as well.) Afterwhich, not only did he celebrate their breakup but also basically left Millie crying after she got eliminated by telling her that he ripped the last page where Millie wrote a lot of good things about Priya, just to make her feel even worse.

I do not care if Priya and Millie made up, this was just disgusting. Like genuinely, disgusting. From Millie crying all night and lamenting how she lost her only friend, to Priya basically telling Millie to kill herself and Bowie just not caring about the mental damage he just gave to someone—when it’s clearly shown that they were genuine friends.

Total Drama can get realistic. Yes, it’s low-key the backbone of the series, but this was too much, and left a horrid taste in my mouth. And besides that, no one else was better anyways. Julia….is not a good character—matter of fact, I consider her a bland character, because we’ve seen this archetype so many times in Total Drama that she doesn’t really have an identity of her own; Damien’s a nothing character, the only thing that he’s notable for is him being good at science and wanting to leave (Of course, total drama flipped this for the sake of it “being funny” which wasn’t, I’m sorry). The only redeemable thing about this episode was the constant love that Raj sent Bowie’s way and Ripper just trying to help Millie out as best as he can (honestly, it’s one of his best episodes—dare I say, it IS his best episode). But other than that, it’s nothing but a cesspool of just people bullying Millie for their own selfish gain or not hearing her out and just adding in the piece themselves—even if they don’t even have the foggiest clue on where it went.

This season was such a massive disappointment, there I said it, and I’m not going to repeat myself otherwise. From actual compelling characters (MK, being the best example) being kicked for characters that we’ve seen before (Julia, being the best example), the overuse of potty humor (episode 5 being the most prime example) and the writing going from serviceable to down right horrid. I can’t even say with a fake smile on my face, I do not like this season. It was just wasted potential that turned into a want—no, A NEED—of a rewrite because of what I’ve seen on Monday and again today…. It was gross.

#total drama #total drama island (2023)#pennyrambles #unprompted rant #td spoilers

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sivavakkiyar · 30 days ago

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Politically I think we’re on the same page, so this is more of a question of whether it applies to Salaita: I disagree, but this is admittedly hard to argue on the basis of a single essay. For me it is very clear that Salaita is working *out* of Said, and I think his work in its entirety speaks to that—-I cannot see how the essay can be read with the idea that he’s tiptoeing around material imperial interests. It’s a short essay deepening an aspect of Said’s thesis that he left largely unexplored (except, again, in his later added introduction), and correcting an academic and activist deviation.

In truth arguably Said mystifies this and gets far closer to ‘metaphysics’ in Orientalism than Salaita has done in any of his published work I’ve read: Aijaz Ahmad’s In Theory is still the best (frankly almost the only) good engagement with this aspect of Said’s work.

On the other hand, I think it’s possible both Salaita and Said would agree that a singular fixation on oil conquest rather than the totality of the imperial claim in yes the geopolitical situation is an oversimplification on the same level as the banal Christian Zionist claim; it’s of course significant, but it was also the sole observation of the US liberal-left and left at the time Salaita wrote the essay, and even to this day, enough to make it into sitcoms.

Again, didn’t mean to write too much: Salaita’s argument *is* a comparatively specific deepening of a more particular phenomenon—-I don’t agree that Salaita finds anti-Arab racism to the Holy Land idea to be simply causal at the expense of actual political realities. I think it was a significant theoretical moment, in that even now articulating a specific anti-Arab racism in the states with a history is completely forbidden—-and I wonder if reading him as working out of Said rather than against him might change the interpretation.

Yet after the 1973 war the Arab appeared everywhere as something more menacing. Cartoons depicting an Arab sheik standing behind a gasoline pump turned up consistently. [Being an oil supplier] is another negative characteristic, since most accounts of Arab oil equate the oil boycott of 1973–1974 (which principally benefitted Western oil companies and a small ruling Arab elite) with the absence of any Arab moral qualifications for owning such vast oil reserves. Without the usual euphemisms, the question most often being asked is why such people as the Arabs are entitled to keep the developed (free, democratic, moral) world threatened. From such questions comes the frequent suggestion that the Arab oil fields be invaded by the marines.

– Edward Said, Orientalism (1979)

Said rightly identifies this as a principal feature of post-WW2 American Orientalism, and thus makes a vital connection that's missed by, e.g., this profoundly stupid 2006 paper by Steven George Salaita, who ostensibly read, plainly misunderstood, and dismisses out of hand Said's actual argument in an attempt to mythologize American anti-Arab racism as primarily driven by Christian Zionism rather than, y'know, desire for domination of a material resource that is vital to the maintenance of the American imperial project. I think there's an additional layer that Said doesn't get into in Orientalism, in that the 1973–1974 OPEC embargo represented a jarring and unwelcome disruption of a Western oil syndicate that had kept oil prices artificially low for decades, but the basic point remains.

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realcube · 3 years ago

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BABYSITTING WITH HIM

characters ♡ oikawa, tendou & sakusa

tw ♡ children, cursing & mentions of arson

TŌRU OIKAWA

♡ he is pretty much a professional babysitter, or so he thought

♡ which is why he accepted when you asked if he could help you take care of your nieces/nephews for the weekend

♡ i mean, he takes care of his nephew all the time so how hard could babysitting possibly be? it was basically a free pass to spend the day with you

♡ however, he began to regret his decision as he sat on your couch and realised that he wouldn’t be able to get even somewhat intimate with you when there was constantly an annoying little boy clinging to his arm, asking him if he had any games on his phone

♡ “sorry, kid.” oikawa smiled, clenching his jaw to hide the rage but it wasn’t very effective, “i’ve not got any games. maybe you could go play with your toys or something.”

♡ he let out a sigh, making the mistake of thinking that would be the end of their interaction

♡ “can’t you just download some?” the boy retaliated

♡ you snickered, watching as the energy visibly drained from oikawa, yet he still wore his frighteningly bright grin

♡ “i’ve not got any storage.”

♡ “then delete some of your apps or photos.” the boy said with a shrug, then proceeded to point at oikawa’s home screen, which happened to be a picture of him and you in front of an ethereal sunset, “start with that one. you both look like dorks.”

♡ you and oikawa’s unified gasps of offence were enough to show the boy that he was able to do exactly what he intended; piss y’all off

♡ hence, with a final mischievous snicker, he dashed off

♡ “i hate kids.” oikawa muttered, inspecting his homescreen to see if he really did look like a ‘dork’, “what is his problem?”

♡ “what if our kids turn out like that?” you joked

♡ his eyes widened momentarily, turning to look at you with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression, “our w--”

♡ “mr kawa!” a cry could be heard from the kitchen so without hesitation, you both hopped to your feet and rushed over there as quick as you could

♡ once you both reached the area the yell came from, you were fortunately not greeted by anything gruesome

♡ instead, you both got to behold two children trying to reach the top shelf with the power on friendship; the taller boy was standing on a chair, while the toddler held it still

♡ however, his grip on the jar of the Nutella must’ve loosened at some point as it now lay dejectedly on the ground, half spilled across the tiles and the other half drenching the toddler, not that they seemed to mind though

♡ in fact, it looked like they were having the time of their — albeit, short — life

♡ the container was only plastic, hence you didn’t have to worry about shards when you darted over to the poor, chocolate-covered baby and scooped them up into your arms, “are you guys, okay?!”

♡ “yeah.” the boy chuckled, noticing that holding the toddler was transferring the chocolate onto you too

♡ “if you wanted nutella, you could’ve just asked.” oikawa sighed, helping the boy get down safely from the chair before putting the object back at it’s intended spot at the dinner table

♡ “you could have gotten seriously hurt! i thought you would know better than to do something like this.” you scolded, becoming even more furious as the baby continued to playfully slap your face with their grimy hands, “please don’t do that again.”

♡ before they boy got the chance to do anything besides murmur a vague apology, oikawa interjected, “they won’t get the chance.”

♡ and he was right

♡ after cleaning everything up (including the child, which took forever), you didn’t let either of the rascals out of your sight until your duties as babysitters were complete

♡ “i think we handled that pretty well.” oikawa mused, gathering his stuff along with you as you both got ready to leave

♡ “yeah, maybe we should do this again sometime.” you suggested, but it was followed by a few second was complete silence

♡ until you both burst out laughing

♡ “yeah, never again.” you agreed

♡ “the kids can take care of themselves.” oikawa said with shrug, offering his hand to you, before you both strutted out of the disaster house

♡ ever since then, it was a common inside joke between you to, when in the vicinity of a kid causing mayhem or being a nuisance, whisper to each or exchange a look that says, ‘it’s a great day to not be babysitting.’

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ at first, you thought that asking tendou for help babysitting would be a bad idea bc he is just as hyperactive as the damn kids sometimes so he’d probably not be the best influence

♡ and you knew this bc one time you happened to run into him while out in the park with the kids and you asked him to watch them for literally a minute so you could run to the bathroom but when you came back all you almost had a heart attack because tendou was teaching them fkn tricks on the monkey bars

♡ however, you then realised that if the kids were busy committing arson with uncle tendou, then they wouldn’t be bothering you

♡ so here you are, playing monopoly with your boyfriend, a seven year-old and a one year-old

♡ well, it was less like monopoly and more like debate class since none of you could agree on the rules

♡ “well, uncle ten,” the older sibling began, in a very matter-of-factly tone, “if i burn your property down, then i don’t have to pay you for landing on it.”

♡ “but then you also go to jail.” you pointed out

♡ “not if the police don’t catch me.”

♡ you burst out laughing, meanwhile tendou kept his business face on, “good point, but watch this.” tendou spoke as he rolled the dice, though no matter what if he got a number between four and seven, he would end up landing on somebody’s property

♡ he got a four

♡ picking up his piece, he moved it across each square individually and once he was due to land on your property, he knocked his piece over

♡ “whoops, i slipped.” he chuckled, though his friendly aura immediately dropped as he looked you dead in the eye and said, “i’m suing.”

♡ “you can’t sue me because you tripped!” you yelled

♡ “i guess i just fell for you.” he said, resulting in the kids both making gagging noises before he stuck out his hand, “100 monopoly dollars, please.”

♡ “like i said,” you tried your best to stay strong and not laugh at his shitting pickup line, “i’m not giving you any money, you fell!”

♡ “i guess we’ll have to take this matter to court then.” tendou said, tapping the shoulder of the one year-old who was currently chewing on a 500 bill which you quickly had to confiscate

♡ “judge, do you think (y/n) owes me 100 monopoly dollars for poor health and safety conduct?”

♡ “yes.”

♡ “that is the only word they know how to say!” you cried, begrudgingly handing over the money

♡ “thank you, angel.” tendou cooed, adding your singular bill to the pile he had already stored up; the winner of the game had already been decided

♡ and although you and the seven year-old kid both cried later after getting your asses kicked in monopoly (the one year-old cried too but they were just hungry), you all went out to get food and actually had a pretty good time

♡ it became a routine for tendou to help you babysit whenever he got the chance and y’all would always play table top games

♡ also when tendou got accepted into culinary school, he’d teach/show the kids what dishes he has learned to prepare and let them help by stirring the pot, adding spices etc etc

♡ and even when he moved to Paris, on special occasions, a box of chocolates would suddenly appear at the kids’ door and all the little pieces would be shaped and moulded into some of their favourite characters or made out of their favourite flavours

♡ and at one point the kids even insisted that you teach them how to make chocolates so they can send some back to uncle tendou <33

♡ they weren’t the best, but when tendou received the misshapen, slightly stale chocolates at his apartment, addressed from you and the children, he cried

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

♡ his first response when you asked if he could help you babysit was ofc ‘ew no 🤢’

♡ needless to say it took a lot mansplain manipulate malewifing to convince him to come over

♡ but once he did, obviously he was in his full protective gear; there was no way in hell he was going to catch whatever germs the little goblins have

♡ honestly he almost sprayed a chid in the face with hand sanitizer when they came running up to him with open arms, trying to give him a hug

♡ which was unusual because the kids don’t tend to be overly friendly with new people, but you just brushed it off and figured that sakusa must’ve been an exception

♡ during his time babysitting, sakusa spend most of his energy trying to avoid the children at all costs that it basically became a game of tag, with you helping the child try to reach sakusa, and him hiding

♡ but honestly you couldn’t complain since the whole time the child was playing, they were safe with you rather than playing with fire

♡ until later you were reminded of their odd fondness for sakusa when they insisted that sakusa carry them to their bedroom when it was their nap time

♡ and as you were shifting through the books, looking for a story to read, it hit you why they seemed to be so familiar with sakusa

♡ it’s because he looked exactly like the prince in one of their favourite story books; same hair, both tall and they even had similar moles to each other

♡ upon noticing this, you immediately showed sakusa and was quite amused

♡ in fact, he found it so cute that he gave both you and the toddler a lil’ kiss on the cheek, as a parting gift — mask off and everything

♡ he ended up reading the story and the kid fell into deep slumber by the time he reached the second page

♡ letting out a sigh of relief, sakusa slumped onto the ground, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “what a day.”

♡ you shuffled over to you could lay down beside him, “indeed it was, prince sakusa.”

♡ “shut up.” he teased, poking your rib slightly before absently intertwining his fingers with your own

♡ next thing you knew, you were both awakened by the sound of a grumpy toddler...

#sakusa x y/n #hq sakusa #tendou x you #tendou imagine #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa headcanons #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #tendou x reader #haikyuu tendou #tendou drabble #tendou hcs #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagines #sakusa headcanons #👾fluff #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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chanluster · 4 years ago

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the duke and i | {m} ; {f}

teaser | bridgerton! au | f2l! au | approx. 25k words

“The Duke of Hastings can show you much more than what you write of.”

s u m m a r y >> wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. with arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, hwang hyunjin, duke of hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. when he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of just how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony.

w a r n i n g s >> noble! reader, duke! hyunjin, hyunjin is a fucking rake, reader is a fucking nerd, also really really innocent, hyunjin is sosososo hot, a lot of teasing, endearments, sexual tension, kissing, making out, corruption kink!!!!! corruption! fucking! kink! oral (f. receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe hoemies!!) orgasming on multiple occasions, (kind of) hate sex, there is fluff i promise, tiny bit of angst

p l a y l i s t >> here!

t a g l i s t >> @fivefootfuryanon @h0eforhyunjin16 @seoulicitae @linoscult @aliceu @hwangi @shipsaremything98 @babyyynatty @kabira @danyxthirstae01 @sunseokkies @lunefilm @severetimetravelnerd @minaamhh @starry--koo @ninjaleeknow @hyunjeonnies @inlovewithasa @titleisyettobemade @maedesculpaeusoubi@healinghyunjin @fleeingreality (send an ask if u wish to be added!!)

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e >> hello hi i am finally writing this fic!! bridgerton may be problematic but simon basset was still the sexiest man i’ve ever seen in period dramas so here is hyunjin being that exact sex god in this teaser i hope you enjoy <3

back to masterlist

“____, YOU HAVE WRITTEN A BLOODY MASTERPIECE!”

Your entire body stilled.

“I...I did what?”

“Wrote a masterpiece!” He swiped through the pages, lighting up at each word that passed his gaze. “A bestseller! An award winning novel!”

A smile worked its way onto your lips. “You...you really think so?”

Sighing out in exasperation, he set the papers upon the desk as he began to lose his initial anger. “How could you be embarrassed about something so beautiful?” He put his hand on the gold chair, leaning onto its head. “Your descriptions were lovely, the characters are perfectly imperfect. You have really outdone a lot of the writers in circulation.”

Your shoulders sagged a little — almost as if you had been carrying a heavy burden, and this man had taken it off of you.

You made sure he saw your joy when you said, “Thank you, blondie.”

Seeing the pure contentment upon your face had your friend looking away, eyes narrowing to the plans once again.

“There was, however, one thing which needed improvement.”

The setback had you straightening once again, eager to hear. At least he was not sweetening it fully. “Go on.”

“As I was reading through, right till the end, I noticed a lack of very important details.”

That was quite strange. “A lack of?” you asked, when you were so sure that you had added too much of everything.

“Yes.”

His fingers drummed against the velvet of the chair.

“I noticed that there was a deep lack of...passion.”

An incredulous look was your reply. “Passion?”

“Yes, passion. Desire.” He jerked his head towards the papers. “I hardly saw any of those emotions in the book.”

This new information was certainly quite worrying. “But I do not understand,” you started. “My whole novel is based on this relationship, of the love that blossoms and grows—”

“I understand that, darling, I really do,” he said. “I know what you are going to say.”

The drumming continued. “But where is that residing in the chapters? Where is that physical lust implied in the characters?”

Lust.

You had heard of the word before. Heard of its implications, yet never grasped the weight of its meaning. Was it just another form of longing?

If only your mother had given you an education on this side of love.

“What do you mean...lust?”

Hyunjin raised a groomed brow. “What else could I mean, angel?”

The way he voiced that question, that endearment had you parting your mouth, unable to say anything. You tried to speak, to say something to ease the tension which came slithering back into the bedroom.

“I...what were you expecting? From the relationship.”

Curling his locks behind his ear, his gaze became obscure. “You spoke of forbidden love, of...of a coupling which should not be occurring but happened through the fate of the universe. Is that right?”

When you nodded, he carried on. “See, I did not sense that from their exchanges. Their emotions are tame, chaste. An innocence which cannot be tainted.

“Now where is the fun in that?”

You dared not break his gaze. “What is that ‘fun’?”

His eyes seemed to darken. “That ‘fun’ in the relationship is physicality. Where is that in your novel?”

He took a step towards you. “Where are the unbreaking stares? The curious hands, aching to caress another’s? Where are the trembling breaths, the lust-stained sighs that fan lovers’ lips?”

The duke had you craning your neck back as he looked down at you. “Where are the kisses, my darling?”

You gulped. “K-kisses?”

“Yes, kisses,” he repeated softly. “Lips enveloping lips, tasting your inner workings? Travelling to your neck, your collarbone...places which cannot even be whispered in polite society?”

Each part he mentioned had its goosebumps pricking.

The bastard still did not stop. “Where is that passion, ____? Where is that forbidden love, which makes the heart burn wilder?”

And as he descended before you on his knees, hands settling on your lap, you had a feeling swirl up your sides which had never struck you before.

“If I were the man in your book, I would not be tame with you.”

His eyes offered a new, intimidating darkness. “Because if you were my woman, then I do not think I’d control myself. The moment I’d catch the innocence dancing in your eyes, I’d have waltzed it away into my shadows.

“Only God could save you from my hunger, then.”

Silence descended upon the two of you.

One waiting for the other to speak, and the other unable to form the words to do so.

The moon had illuminated your husband, one side of his face glowing like a celestial being, the other side basked in darkness. How strange, when he had compared himself to it just a few moments before.

You seemed unable to look away from him. His gaze, always intense, now became so penetrating you wondered whether he could glance at your soul, quivering from his feedback.

Improvements which you still did not quite comprehend, despite the implications.

Somehow, he could see it on your face. “I have a feeling you still do not grasp the idea. Is that correct?”

A half nod. “I…” God, speak! “I just...I have never understood it, Hyunjin.”

Your head dipped down, darting at the plains of your hands. “You asked me about lust, and I simply cannot answer because I do not know. I have never experienced such emotion.

“Hell, I have not witnessed a single action that you spoke of. How could you expect me to write of desires I have never even felt?”

This.

This was unchartered territory. This was a terrain you had not explored with him.

Yes, he was your best friend. But one does not talk of such...dangerous conservation when your best friend happens to be a man — a complete rake, at that.

It seemed as if the rake, too, was thinking the same.

His legs, a force which had never let him down, threatened to buckle under him. His mouth opened, only for silence to answer you.

Lord and all His subjects help him. He did not think he could contain it any longer.

And as his eyes exposed you, vulnerable before him, he only knew of one thing — one fact within this ocean of uncertainty you swam in.

He would jump into the waters for you. But not in the notion to haul you out to safety.

No, the duke would drag you down further, with him as your sole saviour.

Or even your destroyer. Your fated undoing.

For the Duke of Hastings will absolutely ruin you, body and soul.

“Hyunjin?”

A blink.

A singular action, dragging him back to dark, dark reality — sweeter than his fantasies as it sat before him, shy and wide-eyed.

An innocent reality all for him to defile.

“Yes, angel?”

You tried not to shudder at his lilting whisper. “How am I to be helped?”

The man did not even think of the possibilities, to your surprise.

If only you knew, how long he had kept them hidden for.

“How about...how about I assist you?”

Confusion washed over your features. “And how would you assist me, Hyunjin? You have never written a novel.”

His answer was a chuckle, revealing slight glimpses of his teeth as he stood.

“That is true, yes.”

Sitting down beside you, he planted his hands behind him on the bed, leaning into the position.

“But what I can provide aid for is the one feature you lack in your writing.”

His voice right behind gave you a fright.

“Pure, raw lust.”

Looking over yourself, you watched him reclined in ease. Your speech was uneven as you said, “And...and how will you help me with that?”

“Simple, my darling.” A pause, looking you over. “I shall provide you with examples. Show you what truly happens between a man and woman when all they yearn for is each other.”

He saw the further questions in your gaze. The questions you dared not voice out loud, perhaps dared not understand.

Smirking, he sat himself up, eyes never leaving yours as his hands encircled your own, bunched up in your dress. As his fingers brushed against your linen he felt his skin go aflame.

“If, of course, you would let me.”

Tilting your head slightly upwards, you sensed a foreign warmth envelop your face, burning at the sight of your friend studying you like an empty canvas, begging to be filled.

Maybe you were an empty sheet of paper, waiting to be painted with guidance by the master. Maybe that master was beside you all along.

“What will you do to me, Hyunjin?”

There it was. The question which may have been his drug — his purest form of opium.

Because when his hands travelled upwards, sliding to your face and imprisoning you with his stare, he knew he would become addicted.

A shame he did not care for his well-being when you were so fucking tempting.

“Show you what real passion tastes like.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin oneshot #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin

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nopefun · 4 years ago

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Interview #494: Ryan Frigillana

Ryan Frigillana is a Philippine-born lens-based artist living and working in New York. His work focuses on the fluidity of memory, intimacy, family identity, and visual culture, largely filtered through the lens of race and immigration. Embracing its plasticity, Frigillana explores photography’s relationship to context as a catalyst for thematic dialogue.

His first monograph, Visions of Eden, was published as two editions in 2020, and is held in the library collections of the MoMA, Getty Research Institute, and Smithsonian among others.

We spoke to find out more about Visions of Eden, his love for photobooks, and photography as a medium for introspection.

Lee Chang Ming Ryan Frigillana

Thanks for agreeing to do this! As we’ve just arrived into the new year, I want to start by asking: how did you arrive at photography and how has your practice evolved so far? Your earlier work was anything from still life to street photography, but your recent work seems to deal with more personal themes.

It’s my pleasure; thank you for having this conversation with me! Wow, looking back at how I’ve arrived at this point makes me feel so grateful for this medium, and excited to think of where it will lead me from here. I came to photography somewhat late. I was initially studying to become a nurse and was set to start a career in that field, but I found myself unhappy with where I was going. My mother was a nurse and I know what goes into being one; it’s not an easy job, and I respect those who do it, but my heart wasn’t in it. I found photography as a creative outlet during that stage of my life, and I’ve clung onto it ever since.

My first exposure to photography (no pun intended) came in the form of street and photojournalism. I would borrow books from the library a lot, consuming works by Magnum and other photographers working in that tradition. At the time, it was all I knew so that’s what I tried to emulate. Even early on in my undergrad career, these modes of creation were reinforced by curriculum and by what I saw from my own peers. My still-life work branches off of that same sentiment: the only names that were ever thrown around by professors were Penn and Mapplethorpe, so that’s who I studied. Thankfully over the years, I’ve been able to broaden that perspective through my own research. Though I don’t necessarily pursue street or constructed still-lifes anymore for my personal work, I’d like to think my technical skills (in regard to timing, composition, light) owe a debt to those past experiences.

I suppose now I’m starting to explore how photography can be used as language, to communicate ideas and internal conflicts. I’m thinking more about the power of imagery, its authorship, its implications, and how photographs have shaped, and continue to shape, our reality. That’s where my work is headed at the moment.

I liked how you mentioned photography as a language, which calls into question who we are speaking to when we make images and what kind of narrative we construct by putting photographs together.

In your work “Visions of Eden”, you trace your family’s journey as first-generation Filipino immigrants in America. I was quite struck by how you managed to link together original photography, archived materials and video stills. To me, with the original photography there was a sense of calm and clarity, perhaps in the composition. But with the archived material it was like peering through tinted glass, and the video stills felt like an unsteady memory. What was the editing process like for you and how did you decide what to include or exclude?

For me, editing is the hardest part about photography. Shooting is the enjoyable part of course because it can feel so cathartic. Sometimes when I shoot it feels almost like muscle memory in the sense that you see the world and you just react to it in a trained way. But with editing, it’s more of a cerebral exercise. More thought is involved when you have to deal with visual relationships, sequence, rhythm, and spacing, etc. The real creation of my work takes place in the editing process. That’s where the ingredients come together to form an identity.

When creating this identity, I not only have to think about what I want to say, but also how I want to say it. It’s like speaking; there are numerous ways you can communicate a single sentence. How are images placed in relation to one another? How large are they printed, or how much white space surrounds it? Are the images repeated? What’s on the following page? The preceding page? Is there text? How are they positioned on the spread? All of these little choices impact the tone of your work. And that’s not even mentioning tactile factors like paper stock or cover material. I think that’s why I have such a deep love for photobooks because 1) they’re physical objects and 2) someone has obsessed over every aspect of that object.

I’m aware that my photographs lately have a quiet, detached, somewhat stripped-down quality to them. I think that’s just a subconscious rejection of my earlier days shooting a lot of street where I was constantly seeking crowded frames and complexity in my compositions. As I’ve grown older, I realize less is more and if I can do more by saying less, that’s even better. Now, the complexity I seek lies in the work as a whole and how all these little parts can form something fluid and layered, and not easily definable.

For Visions of Eden, I wanted the work to feel somewhat syncopated and wandering in thought. That meant finding a balance between my quiet static photographs and the movement and energy of the video stills, or balancing the coldness of the illustrations with the warmth of the family snapshots. The work needed to be cohesive but have enough ambiguity for it to take life in someone else’s imagination. Peoples’ lived experiences in regard to immigration and religion are so complex that they can’t be narrated in any one definitive way. Visions of Eden, hopefully, is a rejection of that singularity.

Yes, there’s definitely something special and intimate about flipping through a photobook! For your monograph, you recently released a second edition which is different from your first (redesigned, added images, etc.). Why did you decide to make it different? Was the editing mainly a solitary process?

The first edition was a partially hand-made object. Illustrations were printed on translucent vellum paper and then tipped into the gutter of the book. When you flip through the pages, those vellum sheets would overlap over certain images, creating a collage-like effect. That was my original concept for this book. Doing this, however, was so laborious and time consuming, and not to mention expensive! Regretfully, I wound up making only twenty copies of that first edition. I wanted the work shared with a wider audience so that’s why I decided to publish a second run.

The latest edition is more of a straight-forward production without the vellum paper. With this change in design, I had to reconfigure the layout. I took liberties in swapping out some images or adding new ones altogether. Also, a beautiful afterword was contributed by my friend, artist, writer, and curator Efrem Zelony-Mindell. I still feel so fortunate and grateful to have had my work seen and elevated by their words in my book.

For the most part, yes editing is quite a solitary process for me. But there does come a point when I feel it’s ready, where I share the work with a few trusted people. It’s always nice to have that outer support system. Much of Visions of Eden was created during my time in undergrad school so I had all sorts of feedback from peers and professors which I’m grateful for. But in the end, as the author, you ultimately have the final say in your work.

Given that Eden is a starting point and metaphor in the work, I was thinking about ideas of gardens, (forbidden) fruit, and movement of people.

How do you view yourself in relation to your place of birth? In your series, I see the most direct links in the letters, old photos where tropical foliage is present in the background, and the photo of the jackfruit (perhaps the only tropical fruit in this series).

I came to America when I was very young, about five years old. For my family and for many other families still living in the Philippines, America is seen as a sort of ideological Eden: a land of milk and honey, of wealth and excess. We all know that’s far from the truth. Every Eden has a caveat, a forbidden tree. Which leads me to ask: as an immigrant living in this country, what fruits were never intended for me?

I honestly don’t remember much about my childhood in the Philippines aside from fleeting memories of my relatives, the sounds of animals, the smell of rain and earth, the taste of my grandmother’s cooking. The identity that I carry with me now as a Filipino is not so much tied to the physical geography of a place but rather it is derived from a way of life, from shared stories, in the values we hold dear, passed on from generation to generation. This is a warm flame that lives on in me to this day as I write these words thousands of miles away from where I came.

Photographs have a way of shaping our memory and our relationship to the past, which in turn affects how we engage with the present. The family photographs and letters used in my book act as anchors in a meandering journey. They serve as landmarks that I can return to whenever I feel lost or need assurance so far away from “home”. They give me the comfort and affirmation that I need to navigate a space where I never really felt I belonged. The spread in my book that you mentioned—the jackfruit on one side, and the Saran-wrapped apple on the preceding page—was a reference to my duality as both Filipino and American. It’s a reminder and an acknowledgment that I am a sum of many things, of many people who have shaped me. If I flourish in life, it’s because my roots were nourished by love.

I like how you mentioned photos as anchors or landmarks. Isn’t that why we create and photograph? To mark certain points in our lives and to envision possible futures, like a cartographer mapping an inner journey. Do you feel like you and your relationships with those you photographed changed through the process of making your works?

When my parents took pictures of our family, it wasn’t done solely in the name of remembrance; it also served as an affirmation of ourselves and our journey—a celebration. Every birthday, vacation, school ceremony, or even the seemingly insignificant events of daily life were all photographed or video-taped as a way of saying to ourselves, “Here we are. Look how far we’ve come. Look at the life we’ve made. And here’s the proof”.

Now, holding a camera and photographing my family through my own lens still carries all of that celebratory joy, but with so much more possibility. Before I really took photography seriously, I never realized its potential as a medium for introspection, but that’s ultimately what it has become for me. In taking pictures of my family, I not only clarify my own feelings about them, but the act of photography itself informs and builds on my relationship with each person. The camera is not a mere recording device, but a tool for understanding, processing, and even expressing love...or resentment. Though I may not be visible in my pictures, my presence is there: in my proximity, my gaze, my focus.

Does all of this impact my relationships? Absolutely. Photographing another person willingly always demands some degree of trust and vulnerability from both sides. There’s a silent dialogue that occurs which feels like an exchange of secrets. I think that’s why I often don’t feel comfortable photographing other people unless we’re very close. Usually my family is open enough to reveal themselves to me, other times what they give can feel quite guarded. That’s a constant negotiation. After the photograph is made though, nobody ever emerges the same person because each of us has relinquished something, no matter how small.

Being self-reflexive in photography is so important. I agree it should be a constant negotiation, but it’s something that bothers me these days – the power dynamic between the photographer and photograph, particularly for personal and documentary projects. More significantly, after the photograph has been made, who is really benefiting. But I guess if we are sensitive to that then perhaps we can navigate that tricky path and find a balance.

Right, finding that balance is key and sometimes there are no clear-cut answers. That power dynamic is something I always have to be mindful of. As the photographer, you are exercising a certain role and position. At the end of the day, you’re the one essentially “taking” what you need and walking away. There’s an inherent violence or aggression in the act of taking someone’s picture, no matter how well-intended it may be. This aggression carries even greater weight when working, as you say, in a genre like documentary where representation is everything.

I remember an undergrad professor of mine, Nadia Sablin, introducing me to the work of Shelby Lee Adams—particularly his Appalachian Legacy series. Adams spent twenty-five years documenting the disadvantaged Appalachian communities in his home state of Kentucky, visiting the same families over a long period of time. Though the photographs are beautifully crafted, they pose many questions in regard to exploitation, representation, and the aestheticization of suffering. He is or was, after all, an artist thriving and profiting off of these photographs. Salgado is another that comes to mind. This was the first time I really stopped to think about the ethics of image-making. Who is benefitting from it all?

I think the search for this balance is something each photographer has to reckon with personally. Though each situation may vary with different factors that have to be weighed, and context that must be applied, you can always ask yourself these same ever-pertinent questions: am I representing people in a dignified way, and what are my intentions with these images? Communication (listening), building relationships, acknowledging your power, and respecting the people you photograph are all foundational things to consider when exercising your privilege with the camera.

Well said! The process of making photographs can be tricky to navigate yet rewarding. Any upcoming projects or ideas? What’s keeping you busy these days?

Oh, let’s just say I’m constantly juggling 3-4 ideas in my head at any given time, but ninety percent of the time they don’t ever lead to anything finished haha. This past year has been tough on everyone I’m sure. I’ve been dealing a lot with personal loss and grief and the compounded isolation brought on by the pandemic, so for months I’ve been making photographs organically as a subconscious response to these internal struggles. It’s more of an exploration of grief itself as a natural phenomenon and force—like time or gravity. Grief is something everyone will experience in life and each of us deals with it differently, but in the end we have to let it run its course. I see these photographs as a potential body of work that could materialize as a zine or book one day, so we’ll see where that goes.

Other than that, I’ve been working on an upcoming collaboration project with Cumulus Photo. Speaking of which, I saw your photograph featured in their latest zine, running to the edge of the world. Congrats on that! It’s beautiful. But yeah, just trying my best to keep busy and sane, and improving myself any way I can.

Thanks! Looking forward to your upcoming projects! Last question: any music to recommend?

I feel like my answer to this question can vary by the week. I go through phases where I exhaust whole albums on repeat until I get tired of them. So I’ll leave you with the two currently on my rotation: Angles by The Strokes, and Screamadelica by Primal Scream.

Thank you for your time!

Thank you for a lovely discourse. I had a lot of fun!

his website and Instagram.

Get more updates on our Facebook page and Instagram.

#Ryan Frigillana #nope fun #new york #photographer interview #artist interview #Contemporary Photography #Visions of Eden #PhotoBook

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ugh-againwiththenames · 3 years ago

Text

So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!). I’m not a writer. But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic.

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so.

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends.

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT. When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?). So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*).

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago. A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all).

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them). So let’s get to it, shall we?

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read. I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row). There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all). Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever. You feel me? no? go read it.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW. OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day. Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out. LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed). There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE.

Author: bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree. this is the Memory Loss one. I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day. Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author: sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help. Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll). It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read.

Author: sysrae https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?). Would Recommend.

Author: squeemonster https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist. I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN. I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry) https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you?

Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way). It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM.

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter. And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story. ESL writer, no judgement. I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi. Miscommunication leading to realization.

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean. If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it.

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story. When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do?

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going.

Author: Valinde (Valyria) https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies. Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me.

Author: obstinatrix https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend.

Author: Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together. I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author: Bexism https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now.

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas). It’s a super cute little story.

Author: pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas. This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it.

Author: KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU. Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know).

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty.

Author: lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story. I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think.

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away Author: Chiyume https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) - - Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song - cute short - no sexual content Author: green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit Author: n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086 - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519 The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099 - cute short post GISH zoom - oops "babe, really?"

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646 - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2) - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3) - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4)

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544 - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901 - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845 - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008 - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos

Riptides - sharkfish https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340 - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo) - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo) - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo) - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo) - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo) - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794 - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

#fics #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #cockles #destiel #dean and cas #jensen and misha #one track mind #supernatural #please send me recs #read more fics #this is my new obsession

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kwanisms · 4 years ago

Text

To the Sky 02: the Anniversary

⤑ genre: angst, fluff, smut, steampunk au, sky pirate!Ateez, ateez au ⤑ pairing: Seonghwa x OC ⤑ warning: strong language, alcohol consumption, mentions of: death and religious cults ⤑ summary: Living in the Sky is not always easy, especially when you have a religious sect policing everything you do. One florist, Bang Min-ah, has always dreamed of life outside Arcadia. Little does she know she’s about to find out how very different life is when a group of sky pirates accidentally kidnap her. ⤑ word count: 11.1k (we getting long parts again lmao)

a/n: sorry it’s taken so long to post this, i wanted to hit my goal word count and it’s taken a lot of extra world building to achieve that but chapter two is finally here! and with it comes all the excitement! the pirates have entered the story and everything from here on out changes. as always, thank you for reading!

✙ series masterlist ✙ previous || next

“This indicates the character is speaking in Korean.” “This indicates the character is speaking in English.” ‘This indicates the character is thinking.’

January 02, NY 263 Morndas, 09:01 Arcadia, Min-ah

“Remind me again why we’re going through with this?” Min-ho hissed as Min-ah walked him through the crowded morning market, a singular destination set in her mind. The sun had already started rising and bathed half the plaza in golden light. On the opposite side of the plaza from where the siblings entered stood a grand building.

“We’ve been over this,” Min-ah said, glancing over her shoulder before darting through a break in the crowd, Min-ho struggling to keep up. “Yes,” Min-ho stated as he kept close on his sister’s tail. “But remind me again,” he added as she stopped, staring up at the building in front of her. Min-ho followed her gaze, eyes widening in realization.

“Oh no,” he whispered, turning to give her a horrified look. She was already smiling at him. Before he could protest further, Min-ah grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the front doors of the Arcadia Historical Archives. She opened the door and shoved him in roughly, following after him.

Inside the door, the siblings were met with the entrance hall of the library, a hallway that wrapped almost all the way around the main room which was large and round. Tall windows stretched from the mezzanine to the base of the domed ceiling, allowing in tons of natural light.

Sat just inside the round room was the main desk, behind which sat a beautiful young woman with golden blonde hair pulled up into an elegant up-do. She wore an ivory pleated blouse with long sleeves tucked into a floor length gold skirt, a thick black belt at her waist, and a pair of brown heeled boots.

She glanced up as Min-ah and Min-ho walked in, sporting thin wire-rimmed glasses. A look of recognition passed over her face, a smile spreading across her face as she stood up and walked around the desk to greet them. “Good morning, Min-ah,” she said, bowing slightly before looking at Min-ho. “Min-ho,” she added with a nod of her head.

Min-ah glanced out of the corner of her eye as her brother blushed slightly under the woman’s gaze. “Amelia,” he replied as she turned to face Min-ah. “What can I help you with?” she asked. Min-ah smiled at her warmly. “Your Korean has improved, Amelia,” she said and the woman, Amelia, smiled wider. “I’ve been practicing,” she said simply. “What can I help you with?” she asked again.

“Well,” Min-ah started but Min-ho interrupted her. “I need a few books,” he said, drawing attention away from Min-ah and to himself. Amelia’s warm brown eyes locked with his. “What subject are you looking for?” she asked. Min-ah glanced from Amelia to her brother and could tell he was about to falter but was surprised to see him take charge. “G-gardening!” he stammered.

Min-ah, who hadn’t been looking directly at Min-ho, turned her head and stared at him incredulously from behind Amelia’s back. “Really?” she mouthed at him. Amelia seemed not to find his answer the least bit suspicious or weird because she instead smiled wider and beckoned the two to follow her.

She led the siblings up the nearest steps up to the mezzanine. Min-ah led the way as they followed Amelia along the mezzanine and to an empty table. She gestured for them to take a seat. “What sort of gardening books would you like?” she asked. Min-ah held back a smirk as she looked at her brother, wondering what sort of lie he was about to give the librarian.

“Vegetables,” Min-ho said after staring wide-eyed at his sister. Min-ah’s smirk dropped as she stared at him. “Vegetables?” Amelia asked, not sure she heard him correctly. “Yes,” Min-ho said with more confidence. “Vegetables. The one topic my sister doesn’t have much knowledge on,” he said, looking from Amelia to Min-ah and back. Amelia nodded and turned to peruse the books she had on vegetable gardening. Min-ah leaned forward, having sat next to Min-ho, and slapped him upside the head.

“Vegetable gardening? Are you kidding me?” she hissed. Min-ho leaned forward in his own seat. “You brought me here!” he hissed. “Had I known this was your plan all along, I never would have agreed to come out with you!” he added. Min-ah sat back in her seat. “That’s because you’re too scared to talk to her on your own!” she whispered. Min-ho narrowed his eyes at her. “Am not,” he replied.

Min-ah scoffed. “How mature of you,” she said as Amelia returned with a stack of books. Min-ah nodded at her and Min-ho turned to look over his shoulder. He got quickly to his feet to help Amelia with the books, bringing them to the table. “Thank you,” Amelia said breathlessly as she took a seat next to Min-ho’s spot. He returned to his chair, glancing wide eyed at Min-ah who nodded pointedly as Amelia opened one of the books.

Min-ah stood, walking around the table to look at the books Amelia had selected. She glanced from the books to her brother and the librarian, a small smile forming as she watched the two look over the books. She decided to have a look around, stating she would be right back. She headed away from the table, walking through the aisles of books. While passing an opening in the shelves, she glanced to the side and saw a somewhat taller man with blackish-brown hair.

He wore black leather pants, a loose tunic with a brown vest and a blue and gold brocade coat. He held in his hands a heavy volume. He turned to speak to a man Min-ah couldn’t see. A smile crept over his face as he opened the volume and said something to whomever he was speaking to. Min-ah watched as another man walked out from behind the shelves.

He had light brown hair and wore a white collared tunic with a golden vest and brown leather pants. He too carried a book in his hands, a wide smile on his face. He walked over to where the other man stood and together they looked at the pages of their books. Min-ah watched them for a few more minutes, watching as the darker-haired man walked away, disappearing behind the shelves and leaving the fair-haired man alone.

He glanced over the pages of the book he carried, before he turned to say something to his friend, snapping the book shut and leaning against the railing of the mezzanine. He laughed at something his friend said before he turned and looked over the downstairs area of the library before his eyes landed on Min-ah. The two stared at one another for a moment. Min-ah felt her heart beat wildly against her ribcage, her breathing speeding up as she stared at the man.

Tearing her gaze away, Min-ah turned around and ducked behind a shelf and out of the man’s view. She took several deep breaths before returning to check on Min-ho and Amelia. Peering around a shelf, she saw they were still engrossed in their own world, looking over the books on vegetable gardening. She smiled before turning away and heading further along the mezzanine.

She came across a roped off section and stared into the darkness of the shelf lined walkway. She glanced over her shoulder before unhooking the rope and stepping into the aisle, hooking the rope behind her. ‘Just a quick peek,’ she thought. ‘It’s not hurting anyone.’

Perusing the books in the dimly lit section, her attention was caught by a very ornate book binding. Moving closer to inspect it, Min-ah saw that it was made of brown leather. She reached up to touch the leather, expecting it to be as rough as it looked. Min-ah was instead surprised to find it was smooth and felt almost like fine silk. “What the hell?” she whispered, pulling her hand back, eyes wide.

Curiosity got the better of her as she let out a breath she was holding and slowly reached back up to grab the book but someone else’s hand beat her to it. Min-ah spun around to see who had managed to sneak up on her. It was the man she had been watching. Seeing him up close, she could get a better look at his features. He had a strong jawline and pointed chin. His lips pulled into a smirk as he glanced at Min-ah before looking down at the book cover.

“What an interesting choice,” he said softly as he started flipping through the pages. Min-ah watched with wide eyes as the man before her continued to peruse the book. He glanced up at her, the look in his eyes giving her chills, before he snapped the book shut and handed it to her. Min-ah felt small and vulnerable in his presence. Maybe it was the height difference or his broad shoulders that made him look taller and intimidating.

“Don’t let anyone catch you with that,” his voice said, pulling Min-ah out of her thoughts. He nodded at the book now clutched in her hands. “People will start to talk and I’m sure a woman of your status wouldn’t want that,” he said in a condescending tone. Min-ah opened her mouth to respond but the man moved quickly towards her, trapping her between him and the shelf as she backed into.

He stared down at her, that same smug grin on his face. “You should get back to your friends,” he said in a low voice. Min-ah didn’t like the tone he used. As if something horrible would happen if she stayed there in that corridor with him. As if he was a dangerous beast and she was his next meal. Without a word, the man backed off and turned to walk away. He stepped over the rope and turned back to give Min-ah one final glance before he slipped out of her sight.

Letting out a sigh, Min-ah lifted a hand to check her pulse, pressing two fingers under her jaw. Her heart was pounding, just as she assumed. She knew that man was dangerous and that she never wanted to meet him again. But then why was she feeling a fluttering in her stomach? Not so much from attraction, but that feeling one gets when they do something they aren’t supposed to. A rush of adrenaline. A thrill.

Shaking it from her mind, she looked down at the book in her hands and nearly gasped when she read the cover. It was a book about pirates. She set it down on a nearby table and started to hurry away before stopping in her tracks. Min-ah glanced back at the book lying innocently on the flat surface. She worried her lip between her teeth before making a rash, and rather stupid decision to take the book. She made sure no one was looking before slipping the book into her bag.

Min-ah hurried to the end of the aisle, peeking out to make sure the man was gone before she unhooked the rope and exited the section. She hurried back to find Amelia and Min-ho no longer sitting at the table. She searched for her brother as she walked down the steps of the mezzanine and towards the front door. Min-ah was relieved to find Min-ho standing by the front desk, checking out two books.

Min-ah joined him, receiving a worried look from him. Before he could ask anything, Min-ah shook her head, telling him not to worry about her. Nothing else was said as Amelia finished the checking process and handed Min-ho his books, reminding him to return them in a week. Min-ho thanked her before leaving. Min-ah also thanked Amelia, trying to hide her discomfort in her actions.

She followed Min-ho out of the front door of the library and into the still busy town square. Min-ah saw the man from the library outside with his companion once more. He looked over and they made eye contact. His lips pulled into a smile once more as Min-ah descended the steps with Min-ho.

As she stared him in the eyes, a wave of recognition passed over her as she suddenly remembered that she’d seen the man before, or more accurately, after visiting the library.

‘It’s him.’

───────────────────────────────────

January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 05:42 Arcadia, Min-ah

Min-ah woke with a start, gasping as she sat upright. She let out a few coughs, trying to steady her breath. She glanced around the room. It was still dark. Pulling back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and got to her feet, feeling her way through the darkness to her window to pull back the curtains. On the other side of the glass, she could see the sky was beginning to lighten.

‘Dawn.’ She let out a sigh and began getting ready for the day since she was already up. Min-ah lit a few candles to allow her to see better. As she sat at her vanity, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Realization set in as she recognized the man from her dream. It was the same man who had come by to see her father. She just didn’t realize it at the time. She had seen him that day she had gone to the library with Min-ho. Min-ah shook her head and started focusing on her hair.

As Min-ah pulled the comb through her locks, her mind wandered back to her dream. She remembered the man in her dream. She knew she had seen him. The man from yesterday. She remembered his light brown hair and chiseled jawline. Pushing it from her mind, Min-ah let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "Stop thinking about it," she whispered to herself. "You have more important things to think about," she added.

As she finished combing her hair and pulling it up into a half up-do, a soft knock was heard at the door. Sooyun entered the room, shutting the door behind her softly and walked around the bed. “Are you ready to dress, ma’am?” she asked. Min-ah nodded, standing and turning to head for her closet.

Inside, she chose a dress of dark blue, almost a midnight blue with embroidered silver stars. It had a high neck, long sleeves, and buttons down the back. Small black trims peaked out from the edge of the sleeves. To match, she chose a pair of black boots. Once changed into the dress, stockings on, and boots laced, Min-ah made her way out of her room, heading down the stairs with her hat in her hands.

Upon reaching the kitchen, she saw her father sitting at the kitchen table, looking over paperwork. He looked up as Min-ah entered the room and set the paper in his hand down, offering a rare smile to his daughter. "Morning," he murmured. He knew exactly how important today was to Min-ah. "Is everything all right, father?" Min-ah asked, noticing how exhausted her father looked. He waved his hand lightly. "Don’t worry about me," he said softly.

Min-ah pondered for a moment before finally deciding to speak up.

"Father," she said, glancing at him when he looked up at her. "Yes?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "A man came by here yesterday looking for you," Min-ah replied. Min-hyuk looked at his daughter, perplexed by her revelation. "Who was it?" he asked. Min-ah shook her head. "I'm not sure. I've only seen him once before but I didn't realize it until this morning," she answered.

"Where did you see him?" Min-hyuk asked her. "The library a couple weeks ago," Min-ah answered, watching her father’s expression carefully. "Did he give his name?" he asked. Min-ah shook her head. "No. He didn't. He just gave me a sealed envelope to give you. He didn't even speak-" Min-ah stated but was interrupted by her father.

"Where is it?" he asked, sitting up straight. "Where is what?" Min-ah asked. Her father frowned. "The envelope, where did you put it?" Min-ah pointed towards the foyer. "I left it with your mail yesterday," she answered. Min-hyuk's face seemed to lose color, worrying Min-ah.

"What was it?" she asked. Min-hyuk shook his hand and dismissed her concern. "It was nothing. Some small company, looking for investors," he answered. "Don't worry about it, my dear."

Footsteps outside the kitchen drew both their attention, causing Min-ah and Min-hyuk to look up as Min-ho entered the room dressed in his best black suit. He glanced from his sister to his father, feeling as if they had just been in the middle of a private conversation. "What?" he asked softly, fidgeting with his bowtie.

Min-ah gave him a warm smile, walking over to help him tie it. "You look good," she said softly as their father went back to his paperwork while Sooyun started making breakfast. Min-ho looked over Min-ah's shoulder and then back to his sister. "What were you two talking about?" he asked.

Min-ah gave her brother a confused look. "I just asked him if he was alright," Min-ah said as she finished tying the bowtie and shaping it. "That's it?" Min-ho asked. Min-ah hesitated, pondering whether or not to tell her brother about the man at the door. She decided to wait until later to tell him. She shook her head. Before Min-ho could inquire, she explained that she would tell him after church.

"You promise?" Min-ho asked to which Min-ah nodded. "Of course. Have I ever broken a promise?" Min-ah asked, looking up at her brother. Min-ho studied her face before shaking his head. "No. You've never broken your promises," he said softly.

The two moved to sit at the table across from one another, their father at the head of the table. Sooyun continued to bustle about the kitchen, serving coffee for their father and Min-ho. Min-ah declined the beverage, asking for juice instead. Sooyun gave her a small smile.

As she was serving their breakfast, Hye-kyo entered the room, wearing her dressing gown, her hair unkempt as she sat at the opposite end of the table as her husband. Sooyun immediately began to serve her breakfast. As she was setting a cup down to pour her coffee, Hye-kyo stopped her.

"Be a dear and make me something a little bit stronger," she said, looking up at Sooyun. The maid stood straight and glanced toward where Min-hyuk sat. He didn't look up from his breakfast. Sooyun gave a small curtsey with a "yes ma'am," and moved to head for the bar.

As she passed Min-hyuk, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Min-ah and Min-ho looked up in shock. Sooyun looked terrified. Min-hyuk looked up at her. "Please pour her a cup of coffee and then go change for service. You can resume your duties when services are over," he said in a soft voice.

Sooyun looked relieved when he let go of her. She returned to pour a cup of coffee for Hye-kyo and then disappeared from the kitchen. Min-ah and Min-ho exchanged glances before looking at their father and then mother, who was now glaring at her husband. "I don't want coffee," she said flatly.

Min-hyuk ignored this and went back to his food. Hye-kyo didn't take well to being ignored. She slammed her hands on the table, standing up quickly. Min-ah glanced at her mother, taking in her disheveled appearance.

"I said," Hye-kyo snarled, "I don't want coffee!" Without missing a beat, Min-hyuk simply replied, "I don't care what you do or do not want. You aren't getting drunk at seven in the morning on the anniversary of our son's death."

Min-ah felt her stomach drop. She slowly looked up at Min-ho who stared wide eyed at his empty plate. She glanced from her father to her mother. She needed to intervene and get Min-ho out of this situation.

Clearing her throat, Min-ah turned to her father. "Father," she said softly. He looked from his plate up to her with a look that told her not to get involved but she persevered.

"Before I closed shop yesterday, I made a special flower arrangement for Min-ki's grave but I forgot it at the shop," she said plainly. "Would it be alright," she continued. "If Min-ho and I went there on our way to the church to get the bouquet and then we'll meet you and mother there?"

Min-hyuk knew exactly what his daughter was doing. She was getting herself and Min-ho out of the house and he nodded. "I think that would be nice," he replied, lifting his napkin to wipe his mouth. "You two head out. I'll help your mother get ready and we'll meet you at the church," he said getting to his feet and walking around the table. Min-ho got up and headed quickly out of the kitchen.

Min-ah got to her feet and followed suit, not sparing a second glance back at her parents. She found Min-ho waiting for her in the foyer. Grabbing her coat, Min-ah pulled it on over her dress while Min-ho pulled his coat on over his suit. The siblings exited the house without a word into the cold morning. They headed silently toward the town square.

Min-ah wasn't sure if she should say anything but she needed to know that Min-ho was alright. "Min-ho?" she asked softly. He turned to look at her. "Hmm?" he replied. "Are you okay?" she asked as they walked through the empty town square towards her shop. Min-ho nodded.

"I honestly expected her to throw a fit when you said his name," he answered as Min-ah pulled out her keys and unlocked the shop. The two headed inside where Min-ah walked around the counter and grabbed the arrangement she had made. "I did too," she said as she followed Min-ho outside and locked the shop back up. Before Min-ho could say anything, a voice called out to them.

Min-ah and Min-ho looked to see one of the city guards walking quickly towards them. "All businesses are closed until after services are over," he barked at them. "Oh, we were just-" Min-ho tried to explain their situation but the guard wasn't having it. "I don't care what your excuses are," he said angrily. "You should be at home or heading to church," he added.

Min-ah stepped forward, pushing Min-ho behind her. "We were on our way. We just wanted to stop and get this arrangement I made yesterday for our brother's grave," she stated quickly, holding up the flowers. The guard was about to speak when he was interrupted.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice asked. All three turned to see the lieutenant of the guard walking towards them. "Lieutenant Wexley, sir," the city guard said, saluting him. "At ease, Compton," Lucas Wexley replied. Min-ah relaxed as Lucas sent the guard back to his post.

"We were just heading to the church," she explained. She held up the flowers. "I wanted to stop and grab this for Min-ki's grave," she added. Lucas nodded understandingly. "I can escort you to the church if you'd like," he said. Min-ah thanked him and the three of them made their way.

The walk was mostly silent before Lucas spoke. "Today is the anniversary," he stated. Min-ah nodded silently, glancing at Min-ho who said nothing and kept his eyes forward. "A horrible accident," Lucas said as the three continued forward. "It could have been prevented," Min-ho said as the church came into view. Min-ah grabbed his arm.

Before Lucas could reply, Min-ah gave him a kind smile. "Thank you for your company, Lieutenant Wexley. My brother and I have to meet our parents now," she said pointedly. Lucas returned the smile. "Of course, Miss Bang. It was my pleasure," he replied. He then shifted his attention to Min-ho. "Mr. Bang," he said with a curt nod.

Min-ah turned, pulling Min-ho behind her, ignoring the feeling of Lucas' eyes on her. "You can't just go around saying things like that," she reprimanded Min-ho as they hurried up the path towards the church where people were filing into the building. "I hate that guy," Min-ho hissed.

Min-ah rolled her eyes as they joined the line heading into the church. Once inside, the usher guided them to the correct seats where they met up with their parents. Somehow their father was able to bribe their mother into getting dressed and making herself look presentable.

She wore a black dress with white pinstripes to match his suit. She had removed her hat which was made to match her dress. Her hair was brushed, curled, and styled and she had makeup on. Min-ah sat down beside her mother forcing Min-ho to sit beside her instead of their mother.

"Is this the arrangement?" her mother asked, surprising Min-ah. She nodded as her mother took it gingerly and inspected it. She handed it back without a word. Min-hyuk was looking at the front of the church without a word.

Min-ah looked around, inspecting the white marble interior of the church. It was a massive cathedral, hundreds of seats on the main floor and a balcony with more seats allowing the entire city to sit during service.

The ceiling was close to 30 meters, except inside the dome which was positioned over the altar. The exact inside height of the dome was disputed but rumors were that it stood at almost 18 meters taller than the ceiling.

Min-ah was brought out of her thoughts by everyone around her standing. She stood as well, looking straight ahead as one of the priests stood on a pulpit, looking out over the congregation. Once he had everyone's attention, he nodded, signaling everyone to take a seat.

Min-ah took her seat and looked down at the flowers in her hands as the priest began to speak, thanking everyone for coming. Beside her, Min-ah heard Min-ho snort softly. "Like we have a choice," he whispered. Min-ah tried to hide her smile and she lightly elbowed her brother.

Services continued as usual with the clergy performing their usual rituals of cleansing the congregation, preaching the word of God, and telling the congregation that they will be saved as long as they continue to attend church and believe in the will of God. As it came to a close, the priest called for attention. Min-ah looked up, very clearly done with sitting in the same spot for hours. Min-ho took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Min-ah looked at her brother who gave her a smile.

"Before we leave today and go about our lives," the priest said, his voice solemn despite the fake smile on his face. "Let us remember the tragic incident that occurred nine years ago today." Min-ah felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked over at Min-ho who was staring at the ground.

"Nine years ago, a section of the city that had been deemed unsafe to inhabit was closed off to the public and it was there that a portion of it fell, crumbling off and taking with it a young citizen. Today, we remember Min-ki Bang."

The crowd murmured an 'amen' before services were ended and dismissed. Min-ah stood, following Min-ho with their parents behind them. Once outside of the church, Min-ah felt like she could breathe, taking in the fresh air. She and Min-ho stood off to the side while waiting for their parents.

The four headed for the cemetery to visit Min-ki's grave. Once there, Min-ah replaced the dying flowers with the new arrangement. She and Min-ho stood side by side before their brother's grave, silent. She ignored as other members of the crowd came to offer words of strength and condolences. She didn't care. She knew they didn't really care either. They were doing what they were told to do.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, Min-ah hadn't heard the sounds her mother was making behind her. When she came to, Min-ah turned around to see her mother on the ground, throwing a hysterical fit and one of the other towns women looking completely shocked and mortified. Min-hyuk told her to move along. Min-ah turned away from the scene unfolding behind her. Min-ho hadn't even turned to look.

Unable to stand the sounds anymore, Min-ah turned to help her father but he shook his head. "Go to the market. I'll handle your mother," he said shoving a coin purse into her hand. "There's a list on the kitchen table for you," he added. Min-ah nodded and turned away from her parents, grabbing Min-ho and pushing through the crowd that had started to gather.

"Where are we going?" Min-ho asked. "Father wants us to go to the market," Min-ah said as she led the way back home. Min-ho kept pace with her as they hurried through the empty streets. Everyone was no doubt still at the church watching their mother have a breakdown.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 10:42 the Horizon, Seonghwa

Lifting the glass to his lips, Seonghwa took a sip of the golden liquor he had poured himself what felt like ages ago. The ship had been heading due East for days at this point. Hongjoong had been given the all clear by the Benefactor to sell some of their wares at various sky cities across the world. They had been to a couple already and next on this list was Arcadia.

Seonghwa hadn't been to Arcadia in several years. The last time he was there, he got in trouble with the law when he was discovered in bed with the wife of a guardsmen. He had fled the city quickly, escaping onto the Horizon at the last minute, meeting up with the others. They left the city and hadn't been back since.

Seonghwa vowed from then on to only take women to bed in a tavern or inn and never go to their homes again. He wasn't about to risk his life for a horny housewife.

The sound of shuffling brought Seonghwa out of his thoughts as Hongjoong appeared in the room. Seonghwa ignored him as he continued drinking. "It's not even noon," Hongjoong joked, laughing as Seonghwa cursed at him. The captain poured himself a drink and moved to sit across from Seonghwa. The two said nothing, the older man looking at his younger friend. Finally the younger of the two spoke up.

"I want you to go into the city," Hongjoong said. Seonghwa said nothing, merely stared at the melting ice in his almost empty glass. He knew Hongjoong would ask him to deal with the sales. It was his job after all as first mate. He always took care of the crew's outside transactions. The inside ones were left to the Benefactor.

Hongjoong lifted his glass, staring into the contents. Seonghwa wasn't much of a talker this early in the morning even though it was almost eleven in the morning, but then again Seonghwa wasn't much of a talker in general. Hongjoong sighed, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back on the table, the liquor burning his throat as it slid down. He wasn't done speaking.

"Take San, Wooyoung, and Mingi with you," he added when Seonghwa said nothing. "San and Wooyoung are great at selling and haggling. Mingi can offer protection," Hongjoong continued. Again, Seonghwa said nothing, merely staring at the melting ice in his glass. "Hey," Hongjoong said, catching his friend's attention.

Seonghwa glanced up at Hongjoong, holding the latter's gaze. Hongjoong scoffed, taking another sip. "You gonna say anything?" he asked. Seonghwa shrugged. "I better not see that guardsmen or his wife," he stated. Hongjoong burst into laughter, setting his glass on the table between them. "You have to admit," Hongjoong said. "That was hilarious." Seonghwa frowned at his friend.

"It was NOT hilarious," he replied but Hongjoong continued snickering. "Seeing you leap from the edge of the city onto the deck half naked will forever be engraved I'm my brain," Hongjoong replied. Seonghwa attempted to hide his smile as he scooped an ice cube out of his glass and threw it at Hongjoong who cackled as he dodged it. "Fuck off," Seonghwa chuckled, picking up his glass and finishing his drink. "I'll take the others to the market but don't expect us to sell much," he said getting to his feet.

He glanced down at Hongjoong and grabbed his empty glass. "The people of Arcadia are stingy and have no taste," he added, pointing at Hongjoong before moving to pour himself another drink. "Duly noted," Hongjoong chuckled as he took another sip from his own glass. Seonghwa returned to his seat, lifting his feet to rest them on the table. "Take the hairpin," Hongjoong said suddenly.

Seonghwa looked up. "The Sakura Pin?" he asked, uncertain he heard his captain correctly. Hongjoong nodded. "See what you can get for it. But don't accept less than a million," he added. Seonghwa snorted into his drink. "A million?!" he asked incredulously. Hongjoong nodded. "If someone wants it that badly, they'll pay."

Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders again. "I guess," he added. Hongjoong chuckled again. "Trust me, they will." The two were still talking about prices of the hairpin when San entered the room. "What are you two bickering about now?" he asked as he moved to sit down at the table, Wooyoung and Yunho following behind him.

"We aren't bickering," Seonghwa retorted. "Sure sounds like it," Wooyoung said as he poured himself a drink as well. "We don't bicker," Hongjoong added. "We were discussing prices."

"Prices of what?" Yunho asked as he sat next to San, leaving the last seat beside Seonghwa open for Wooyoung. "The Sakura Pin," Hongjoong answered. "Which reminds me," he added, turning to look at San and Wooyoung. "Do not accept anything under a million for that hairpin, am I clear?" he asked. Wooyoung choked on his drink, causing San to give him a couple thumps to the back.

"A million?!" Yunho exclaimed. Hongjoong nodded. "That pin is extremely rare. It's an authentic piece and not the fake. A million is the lowest we go," he replied. San nodded. "Sounds fair," he answered. "If someone wants it badly enough, they'll pay that amount," he added. Hongjoong smiled, turning to look at Seonghwa who rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips.

"See?" Hongjoong said, raising his hand and gesturing toward San who smiled widely. "What did I say?" Seonghwa rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink. "Oh, shut up," he retorted.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:00 Arcadia, Min-ah

Upon arriving home, Min-ho unlocked the door and led the way in. Min-ah hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the list that her father had left on the table. Once she had it in her hands, she glanced over it. 'Eggs, milk, meat, cheese, vegetables, and bread,' she read. And written at the bottom in her father’s handwriting was a note that read 'and buy something for yourself as your birthday is coming up.'

Min-ah returned to Min-ho with the list and the two headed back outside. Min-ah noticed that most of the townspeople had made their way back into town now, no doubt her father and the church were able to disperse the crowd. Min-ah was thankful but it didn't stop random people from staring at her as if expecting her to randomly lose it as well.

She did her best to ignore the stares and was relieved to see most of the market had been set up. The siblings went through the stalls, buying items off the list. They stopped by the last stall, a vegetable stand and Min-ah told Min-ho which vegetables father liked.

Her attention was drawn elsewhere as her brother looked through the vegetables on the table. She looked through the crowd spotting a familiar face she had seen yesterday and again in her dream last night.

She turned to watch as the man she thought was the same that visited yesterday. As he looked over his shoulder, she was disappointed to see it wasn't the same man. She let out a huff and began to turn back to the vendor when something else caught her eye.

A table not far from where she stood full of all types of combs, jewelry, and other sparkly and shiny items. Min-ho paid the vendor for the vegetables and turned to Min-ah.

"We got everything on the list?" he asked but his sister didn't respond. "Min-ah?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the table and the four men behind it. "Hmm?" she hummed. Min-ho glanced toward the table before smiling. "Father did say to buy yourself a present," he murmured. Min-ah turned her head to meet Min-ho's gaze, a smile already present on his face.

The siblings headed toward the table, passing through the crowd easily. As they approached, a particular ornate hairpin caught Min-ah's attention.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:27 Arcadia, Seonghwa

"We shouldn't be out in full view like this," Wooyoung hissed to San as the latter set out several hairpieces on the table. Mingi was off to the side, lost in his own thoughts while Seonghwa was inspecting the items on the table.

"Wooyoung, stop worrying. People are less likely to suspect anything if we're out in the open like this," San said softly as he adjusted a few hairpins. Wooyoung shook his head and turned away from San to look at Seonghwa.

"Hwa," he started but Seonghwa held up his hand. "I heard you the first time, Wooyoung. Sit next to Mingi and leave the worrying to me," the older man said. Wooyoung exchanged glances with Mingi as the red head looked up at the mention of his name. Wooyoung sighed and moved to sit down.

Seonghwa finished calculating the value of all the items in his head, nodding to himself before glancing up. His eyes fixated on a face in the crowd. Seonghwa had never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

She was short with a slim figure. She wore a midnight blue dress with silver stars with a similar dark blue jacket. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders, half of it pulled up into two twin combs he couldn't see under her matching blue hat. She carried a small bag, strap wrapped around her wrist.

He tore his attention from her clothing where his eyes fixated on the smoothness of her skin. Her complexion was much fairer than his, showing she had never worked a day of her life outside. The curve of her cheek dip down to meet a soft and rounded chin. Her nose was small and slightly upturned at the tip making it look like a button. Cute was the only word that came to his mind.

Her cheeks had a natural rosy hue to them that extended to the bridge of her nose. A natural flush to her light honey toned skin. Her eyes were the softest brown Seonghwa had ever seen and they were full of curiosity and wonder, something he'd never seen from a woman of her obvious station.

It gave her an overall youthful glow. Her hands were small and dainty as she reached out to gently touch several of the hair ornaments, no doubt inspecting the quality of each item that caught her eye. A smile was present on her face as she browsed their stolen wares. Would she know they were stolen? And if she did know, would she willingly pay for stolen goods? He didn't know.

He watched as she turned her head to look at the man beside her. Seonghwa had been so engrossed in studying the woman that he hadn't even noticed the man standing to her left. He was no doubt her fiancé if not her husband.

He was noticeably taller with a lighter shade of brown hair. He wore a nice black suit and carried a bag, presumably with their purchases inside. The woman began looking through the items on the table, one item in particular but Seonghwa didn't pay attention to which item it was. He had to stop staring before he got into trouble like last time. He was not above wooing a married woman into bed with him.

He forced himself to look away from this woman who had ignited a fire in him like no other had done before. He ignored the feelings in his chest and stomach and busied himself with wrapping up the items they didn't have space on the table for as San began speaking with the woman.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:34 Arcadia, Min-ah

"Looking for anything specific?" a man asked. Min-ah looked up and was greeted by a brilliant smile.

The man before her had medium brown hair that was styled to show off his forehead, black eyes, and was a few inches taller than she was. He wore a simple white linen shirt, the neck open revealing his collarbone. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms.

Over his linen shirt, he wore an open black vest. She couldn’t be sure of the material but it looked to be jacquard. He also wore a pair of high waisted black leather pants and a pair of black heavy boots.

When he smiled, dimples appeared on both cheeks and his eyes turned into crescents. Min-ah felt comfortable in his presence.

"Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I just happened to see these from afar," she added, gesturing at the hairpins before her. She looked closer at the ornate one that first caught her eye. It was the most beautiful pin.

It was made of metal, an off white enamel sakura blossom with a pink pearl center and smaller white blossoms. The main blossom was surrounded by green leaves with strands of crystal beads hanging down with ornate green beads at the ends.

"How much is this one?" Min-ah asked, looking up at the man. He glanced down at the Sakura hairpin, a smile on his face. "This one is a really rare piece," he started, picking it up and walking around the table to show her. "It comes with a story actually," he added.

"Legend is that an emperor had it made for the woman he loved," the man started to explain, looking from the pin to her, a smile still on his face. Min-ah couldn't help but smile back. He was a stranger for sure, as she knew almost everyone on Arcadia but he was possibly one of the most handsome strangers she had ever seen.

Min-ah reached out slowly before stopping. She looked up at the man. "May I?" she asked. The man nodded, handing her the pin to inspect. It was even more beautiful in the sunlight. The petals of the blossom sparkled as Min-ah moved the pin around. "It's so beautiful," she said.

“Yah, San!” a voice said. Min-ah glanced up as the man she had been talking to turned to look at another man who had called out to him. The man who had called out had been sitting down when Min-ah first approached the stall. He was now standing and leaning over the table, giving his compadre a very pointed look. What it meant, Min-ah was not sure. She took in his appearance as he stared at the man she now knew was named San.

He had short blond hair with a silvery tone. His jawline was sharp in contrast to the curve of his cheeks. He had San fixed with a sharp stare of his black eyes. It was almost as if he was telling the other man off for something he had done. He wore mostly leather. A black linen shirt, more fitted than flowing, with a black leather vest. Tight fitted leather pants showed off his muscular physique.

On his right hip, sat an empty holster. Min-ah wondered where the weapon that belonged in it was but she didn’t have time to think about that as she also caught sight of another man behind the blond one.

He was big. He didn’t have to be standing for Min-ah to know he would tower over her. His hair was a deep red, a stark contrast from his golden skin tone. His eyes were a light brown, almost amber in the sunlight. He gave Min-ah a curious and puzzled look when their eyes met. Min-ah gave him a polite and friendly smile which he returned after a moment.

Min-ah saw he wore an off white linen shirt, black leather trousers, and a pair of heavy, black lace-up boots. He sat on a low stone wall behind the others. Min-ah’s eyes were drawn to the final member of the group she hadn’t looked at but before she could get a good look, the man called San spoke to her.

“Would you be interested in any of the other hairpins we have for sale?” he asked, gesturing at the other trinkets on the table. Min-ah started to look through them as he explained each item to her.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:38 Arcadia, Seonghwa

Seonghwa glanced up, eyes landing on the woman. She was standing with San, the Sakura Pin in her hands as San explained the value of the pin. His expression softened as he watched the way her face lit up as she listened to San's story. The smile on her face was radiant and it took his breath away. He was vaguely aware of someone saying his name but it took him a few more moments to register Mingi at his side, shaking his shoulder gently.

Seonghwa tore his gaze from the woman and looked at the red head. "What?" he whispered. Mingi nodded wordlessly at the other side of the market where several uniformed guards had entered, looking around the market.

He turned to Wooyoung who looked wide eyed at him. Seonghwa nodded at the table, signaling them to pack it up. Wooyoung started quickly, grabbing the items and placing them back in the bag. Mingi slowly placed his hand on the gun at his hip but made no move to unholster it.

Seonghwa whistled at San who turned to face him. The woman had heard the commotion caused by the arrival of the guards. Seonghwa nodded at the Sakura Pin and San nodded, turning his attention back to the woman as the others finished packing up, slinging the bags over their backs.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am but I'm going to need this back," San said softly as to not draw attention their way. He lightly tugged at the pin in the woman's grasp but she had a tight hold on it. Her attention was fixed in the distance as the armed guards began searching through the stalls, inspecting the people running them.

San was trying to pull the pin from the woman's hand but she wasn't letting go. Both her and the man with her were focused on the guards that had been inspecting the various stalls. Seonghwa glanced at the advancing guards. He had two choices: leave the hairpin or something much more daring and would definitely cause trouble.

One thing was certain: he wasn't leaving without that hairpin.

San turned to give Seonghwa an exasperated look. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes before hissing Mingi's name. The tall red-head looked over his shoulder at him. Seonghwa nodded towards the woman. "Grab her," he said.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:42 Arcadia, Min-ah

Min-ah heard several gasps and turned to see the guard had arrived led by Lucas of course. She was confused as to why they had come. The man was speaking to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying. She was too preoccupied by the advancing guards.

"There they are!" one of the guards said, pointing in their direction. Min-ah looked at her brother who looked just as confused as she did. 'What is going on?'

Min-ah heard a voice behind her say "grab her." She whipped her head around in time to make eye contact with a man with black hair and piercing eyes. She turned as the tall man with the bright red hair advanced on her.

She glanced at San, whom she had been speaking with. He merely gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged before jumping over the table and grabbing one of the bags as the rest of the crew took off. The red-head looked at the guards and back down at Min-ah. "I'm very sorry for this, Miss," he said before grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, knocking Min-ho to the ground in the process.

Min-ah screamed as the man took off after his comrades. "They're getting away!" Lucas called out, giving chase. Min-ah wasn't able to see much in her position as the man carrying her ran through the back alleys.

"PUT ME DOWN!!" Min-ah screamed, hitting the man's back as he ran. He didn't even seem phased by her hits. He continued to run down the dark alleys, her hat fell off as he continued quickly through the thin alleys

"Come on!" Min-ah heard another man yell. "Mingi! Let's go!" Min-ah glanced back over her shoulder to see the man with the piercing eyes holding back a piece of fence into the Erosion Zone. The man carrying her passed through the fence and continued after the others.

As he rounded the building, Min-ah saw an airship waiting at the edge of the city. The others had already jumped on. The red-head did his best to keep his balance as he jumped from rock to rock and stopped at the very edge and looked down at the deck below.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:06 the Horizon, Yunho

"Ugh, why do I have to be on guard duty?" Yunho groaned as he laid in his hammock suspended between two posts on the deck. He was told by Hongjoong to stay topside and wait for the others to return from the market. All he wanted to do was rest in his cabin.

He heard shuffling and opened his eyes to see Yeosang walking toward him carrying a bowl with no doubt his favorite stew inside. Yunho took it and thanked the chef. "I scooped out the bits you don't like," he added as Yunho picked up his spoon and started to eat. "You're the backbone of this ship," Yunho said as he ate several mouthfuls of the stew. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until Yeosang handed him a bowl.

Yeosang scoffed, leaning against one of the posts and looked up at the edge of the city, hair ruffled by the breeze. "Hongjoong would disagree with you," he mumbled. Yunho looked up at his friend. The slightly younger man had no idea how valuable he was to the crew.

"Look, I like Jongho as much as everyone else, but the heart and soul of this ship is the kitchen and without you, it would be a lifeless ship. You keep us sane and fed. There's nothing more important than that," Yunho said, pointing his spoon at Yeosang.

The blonde smiled and looked back up at the sky. "Thank you," he said softly. Yunho said nothing but continued to eat. Silence fell over the two but it was short lived when footsteps announced the arrival of the youngest member of the crew. “Jongho,” Yeosang said, nodding his head slightly in greeting.

“Hongjoong wants to know when lunch will be ready,” Jongho said, looking from the chef to Yunho. Yeosang chuckled. “It’s already done,” he said in response, standing up straight. “I’ll get him a bowl,” he added. Jongho nodded, saying nothing before turning and walking away. “Why does he still act like that?” Yunho wondered, as Yeosang held out his hand to take the now empty bowl from him.

“Like what?” the brunette asked. “Like we’re all strangers,” Yunho answered. “He acts so weird around us sometimes.” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head. “I just think that’s Jongho,” he replied. With a shrug, he turned to walk away, heading down from the deck into the ship. Yunho rested back in his hammock before a distant scream caught his attention. It was unmistakably the scream of a woman. He sat up, rolling out of his hammock and onto his feet. He stared up at the edge of the city, floating a good 20 feet above the ship. He moved to the port side to try and get a better view of the cliff but saw nothing.

He was mentally cursing his ears when he suddenly heard the sounds of footsteps above. Yunho glanced up to see San and Wooyoung at the edge of the city. "Jump!" Yunho called, pointing at the pile of cushions and tarps he had set up for occasions just like this. San wasted no time and leapt off the city, landing in the cushions.

He scrambled up and looked up at Wooyoung. "Jump! It's fine. Just jump!" Wooyoung did as he was told and landed on the cushions. "Where's Seonghwa and Mingi?" Yunho asked as Wooyoung got up. "They're coming," San said. The sound of footsteps announced the arrival of Mingi.

Yunho looked up to see someone slung over Mingi's shoulder. "Who is that?!" he yelled. Before Mingi could answer, Yunho heard Seonghwa. "Just toss her to Yunho!"

Mingi lowered the woman. Yunho saw her glance down, eyes wide with fear as she held on tightly to Mingi. "Don't you dare," she warned. Mingi grimaced."I'm really sorry about this," he apologized again before dropping her off the edge of the city.

Yunho cursed as he braced himself, arms ready. The woman screamed as she fell, arms flailing as she tried to keep herself upright. Yunho dug his heels into the wood of the deck the best he could before catching the woman but the force caused him to fall back onto the hardwood. Mingi jumped off, landing on the cushions as Seonghwa reached the edge as well.

He jumped off, landed on the deck, rolling to soften his fall. "Tell Hongjoong to go!" Seonghwa yelled to Wooyoung who took off to relay the order.

Yunho groaned as he sat up, the woman Mingi had dropped to him still on him. She looked around, eyes wide with fear. "Are you alright?" Yunho asked, rubbing the back of his head. The woman looked up at him, terrified.

Seonghwa turned to look at Yunho. He stormed over, towering over the woman. His eyes landed on the hairpin still clutched in her hand. He knelt down slowly, eyes glaring as he reached her level. The woman stared at him, shaking slightly. He grabbed the hairpin and pulled it from her hand as he stood up.

"Yunho, Mingi, one of you take her below deck and put her in the brig," he ordered before turning and walking away. Yunho and Mingi exchanged glances as the ship started to move. Mingi got to his feet, dusting himself off. "You do it," he said nodding at Yunho. "I carried her here," he added.

Before Yunho could respond, Mingi left the deck, descending down into the ship. Yunho sighed before slowly getting to his feet. He turned and held out his hand to the woman. "Let's go," he said. She didn't move, instead staring up at him. Yunho cocked his head.

"Either you can walk there on your own, or I can throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes," he said with a smirk. "Your call." The woman took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I'm Yunho," he said as he led her towards the steps down into the ship. "Who are you?"

The woman hesitated as Yunho led her through the ship, further down until he reached a door with a sliding lock. "You can tell me your name," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "I'm not going to bite."

The woman watched as he unlatched the door and opened it. He gestured for her to step inside. She did and turned to face him. "Min-ah. My name is Min-ah." Yunho smiled. "Well, nice to meet you, Min-ah. Feel free to wait right here for our captain to greet you," he replied before shutting the door and sliding the lock back in place.

He turned and headed for the engine room where he planned to confront San and ask him exactly what happened in the city and why there was a beautiful woman named Min-ah on their ship.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:19 the Horizon, Min-ah

Inside the room, Min-ah looked around. It was dark but it wasn't damp. Min-ah sighed and started to look around. The room was filled with crates and bags, no doubt food and other supplies but there were also plenty of chests and other interesting relics tied down and partially covered with large drop cloths.

She began to move toward the chests, finding most of them were locked. She found one chest that wasn't locked and deciding to be rather nosey, Min-ah opened it and peered inside.

She was surprised to see that it was full of not gold or gems, but rather paperwork. She started sifting through it to make sense of it. Most of it were written documents, ledgers, and receipts. "What is all of this?" she whispered as she looked at the papers.

Min-ah was brought back to her senses by the sound of footsteps outside the room. She quickly shut the lid on the chest and scurried away from the cargo, moving back by the door. She listened carefully for any more sounds but heard nothing.

Deciding not to snoop anymore, Min-ah sat down on a crate and waited for someone to come to the cargo hold.

She thought about how she got in this predicament in the first place. All she wanted was to find a nice gift for herself as her father suggested. Why did she have to go to a stand owned by pirates? Why couldn't she have found someone else selling hairpins?

"This is absurd," Min-ah hissed to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't believe, of all things, this had to happen to me," she added. "Absolutely outrageous!" she grumbled to no one.

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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:26 the Horizon, Seonghwa

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong paced back and forth in front of him, Mingi standing nervously next to him. The pair watched as their captain said nothing, continuing only to pace before them.

Seonghwa was about to speak but Hongjoong beat him to it.

"What were you thinking?" he said, trying to keep his tone even but it was no use, Seonghwa knew Hongjoong better than that. He could see that his friend was seething.

"It was a quick decision, I made after a brief consideration, Captain," Seonghwa replied simply. "Nothing more." Hongjoong scoffed, coming to a stop, hands still behind his back and eyes looking out the window to the West. "This wasn't a simple decision, Seonghwa," he argued. Seonghwa held his ground.

"It was. She had a firm grip on the Sakura Pin and San tried his hardest to pull it from her but her attention was elsewhere," Seonghwa explained. Hongjoong turned his head and held his friend's gaze. "I knew you would be more angry if we lost that pin, so I did what I felt was best," Seonghwa added.

Hongjoong cursed mentally. Seonghwa was right. The Sakura Pin was extremely rare and very old. There was no way he would let something of that value go. Hongjoong had no choice but to concede.

With a heavy sigh, he moved to sit down behind his desk. "So, you gave the order and Mingi followed through?" he asked. Seonghwa nodded, moving to sit across from Hongjoong. "He did. Even apologized to her before he picked up and threw her over his shoulder," Seonghwa added with a small smirk.

Hongjoong eyed his friend before a chuckle escaped him. He looked up at Mingi. "You're free to go," he said with a smile.

Mingi, who had been standing with his whole body tensed up, finally seemed to relax and nodded. He turned and exited the room, leaving Hongjoong and Seonghwa alone.

Once the door shut, Seonghwa fixed his friend with a stern gaze. "What are we going to do about her?" he asked. Hongjoong looked down at his desk littered with papers, maps, and small trinkets.

"It's too dangerous to turn back right now," he murmured just loud enough for Seonghwa to hear him. "The entire city will be on high alert," the raven-headed man added. "We could hold onto her," Hongjoong mentioned. Seonghwa wrinkled his nose.

"Hold onto her?" he asked, his disdain unmistakable. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. "Yes. This is your punishment. Were going to keep her on board until it's safe to return her to Arcadia."

The tone in Hongjoong's voice made it clear that this decision was final. Seonghwa nodded reluctantly and watched as Hongjoong stood up, grabbing his coat that was hanging off the back of his chair. "Well," he said as he put his coat on. "Let's not keep our guest waiting," he added, giving Seonghwa a smile.

Seonghwa groaned and stood up. Hongjoong's smile fell and he pointed a finger at his friend. "Not one word," he said. "This is entirely your fault." Seonghwa held up his hands in defeat and followed his shorter friend as he opened the door and sauntered down the hall.

Making their way through the ship, they turned the corner and found the rest of the crew standing outside the door to the cargo hold, listening intently at what was going on inside the room. Seonghwa watched as the crew scattered when Hongjoong approached.

"She's talking to herself," San chuckled when Hongjoong gave him a puzzled look. Nothing else was said as Hongjoong unlocked and opened the door. He stepped inside, followed by Seonghwa while the rest of the crew peered inside.

The woman before him was slim and petite. She wore a deep blue dress with silver embroidered stars. It was a flattering silhouette on her. The high neck and long sleeves gave her a very proper appearance. Her hair was a soft brown and pulled back into a flowy half up half down style. She had beautiful crescent moon shaped pins holding her hair back.

The hem of her skirt was lifted as she sat on a crate near the door giving him a peek at the black boots she wore. Hongjoong looked back up as the woman turned to look at him, her soft brown eyes meeting his and he could see why the others were so keen on her.

───────────────────────────────────

January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:38 the Horizon, Min-ah

Min-ah glanced up and stood quickly, eyes widening in panic.

'This is it! I'm done for,' she thought as she watched whom she assumed to be the captain approach her. He wore a crisp linen shirt tucked into black trousers with a black and gold brocade vest. The gold detailing was a dragon pattern. Over this, he wore a blue and black brocade coat and a pair of black cavalier boots.

Fastened to one hip was a sword with an ornate handle that shimmered in the low lights. The hilt was made out of shined bronze. On the other side, a small dagger was strapped to his thigh and tucked under his right arm was a holster with a flintlock pistol.

His hair was short, black, and shaved on the sides with a few braids coming from the back. He had an x cut pattern in his right eyebrow. He gave Min-ah a smile that despite the situation, made her feel welcomed. The man who had told the tall red head to grab her stood behind this man and she was able to get a good look at him.

His hair was a bit longer with an undercut, also black. He wore a linen shirt as well but in a blood red color, under a black on black brocade vest. His trousers were also black as were his cavalier boots. At his hip sat a holster with a revolver in it and strapped to his other thigh was a large dagger in its sheath.

He studied Min-ah with a firm and heated gaze. It made her feel small and scrutinized. She shifted her attention back to the captain as he spoke with a pleasant tone.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said with a small bow. Min-ah curtsied back curiously. "Good afternoon," she said softly.

"Sorry for the inconvenience my crew may have caused you," he continued. "My name is Kim Hongjoong and I am the captain of this ship." Hongjoong smiled as he gestured at the cargo hold. Min-ah glanced behind the pair and saw 5 more pairs of eyes looking at her from the doorway. Hongjoong looked over his shoulder.

The crew immediately scattered and he chuckled. "Don't mind them," he added. "They've never seen a woman on board before." Min-ah looked back at him. "Why am I here?" she asked, looking from Hongjoong to the other man. Hongjoong noticed and decided to introduce him. "This is my first mate, Seonghwa," he added.

Min-ah nodded wordlessly before asking again.

"Why am I here? What do you want with me?" she asked. Hongjoong shook his head. "I would like to apologize again. Your being here was not planned," he stated. "It was entirely an accident," he continued. "Let me explain."

Min-ah listened as he explained everything. How the only reason she was grabbed was because she was holding a very rare and valuable hairpin. Min-ah felt that was no excuse but kept her mouth shut while she listened. When she said nothing, the captain continued.

"We are going to keep you on board for now. Just until things cool down in Arcadia. Once things calm down, we will return you," he added. Min-ah stared at him for a moment. Hongjoong sensed her hesitation. "I give you my word as captain of this ship, that you will be returned home safely." Min-ah sighed.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she asked. Hongjoong shook his head. "No, you really don't," he added in amusement. Min-ah sat down on a crate and groaned. "Then I guess I'll just have to wait it out," she replied. Hongjoong nodded before looking at Seonghwa. "Set her up with her own cabin and get her anything else she needs," he said, a hint of authority to him.

He looked at Min-ah once more. "If you need anything, Seonghwa will get it for you Miss…?" he trailed off. "Min-ah. Bang Min-ah," Min-ah answered. Hongjoong nodded, a small smile on his face.

"Well, Miss Min-ah," he said, his smile shifting into a smirk.

"Welcome aboard the Horizon."

✙ previous || next

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juniperusashei · 2 years ago

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Yes, I Directed “The Room” by Sandy Schklair - 2/5

This is truly one of the most bizarre books I’ve ever read, and it probably won’t make sense unless you’ve seen The Room or read the other account of its production, The Disaster Artist. Sandy Schklair’s purpose in writing Yes, I Directed “The Room” is singular, and summed up in the title itself. Schklair maintains that he, himself, was the sole director of The Room: a fact repeated dozens of times throughout the meager 140 pages of this book. More baffling yet: he claims that every aspect of the room was an intentional decision made on his part. I don’t doubt Schklair, who was brought on as a scripty/1st AD, but his second claim makes him an even more deranged character than Tommy Wiseau himself.

Perhaps I’m a hypocrite for wanting to believe Greg Sestero’s version of events as found in The Disaster Artist, simply because the packaging is more attractive. Sestero worked with Tom Bissell, a novelist, while Schklair’s book is a self-published strange little manifesto, rife with spelling errors. There’s so much repetition it felt like he didn’t read it back once, just typed it all out in a single night; it has the raw emotion of the most incensed of internet rants. The “illustrations” that accompanied the book were hilariously bad… and there were… so… many… ellipses…

The metatextual interplay between these two books is the most fascinating facet of the latter (where the former actually has some craft); Schklair recalls Nabokov’s deluded Charles Kinbote from Pale Fire. The constant self-justifications and cognitive dissonance bordered on the disturbing. Schklair makes so many excuses for the horrible working conditions in the film industry, and then turns around to talk about how much fun was had on Wiseau’s set. In the film adaptation of The Disaster Artist, Sandy Schklair is portrayed by Seth Rogen, and is one of the only “straight men” in the whole movie. So it was an utterly fascinating twist that by far the most sensible character turned out to be more obsessive and bizarre than even Tommy Wiseau! Even if everything he says is true, directing The Room just doesn’t feel like a hill worth dying on.

#Yes I Directed “The Room”#Sandy Schklair #tommy wiseau #The room #the disaster artist #autobiography #nonfiction #filmmaking #2 #august 2022 #2022

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bearlytolerant · 3 years ago

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Tagged by @thevikingwoman @ejunkiet and @roguelioness thank you so much! 1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

114587

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Vhenan’ara - a solavellan fic in which a happy ending for solavellan doesn’t mean perfect

the sun and the moon- Solas x Sarya Lavellan snippets I’ve written over the years

Free Falling- a modern solavellan circus/newspaper au

Soaring - circus au prompts that occur outside the main story

Say Something- a 5+1 Shega fic

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I adore when writers respond to me because it’s my fave feature about fanfic. So I respond to people who do me the honors of commenting. Sometimes I’m slower at responding than I’d like to be though 😩

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t have any full fics.

But that one shot would be Apple Pie (ch 31) 😬

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Bitter on the Tongue - a pentahawke love story

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t generally speaking but my mass effect fic, Unhinged, is technically.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh gosh, yes. Tbh it’s scared me off a few times but then I always come back with more spite to write. 😝

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes indeed. I don’t know. Porn with plot. Porn with feelings. I really like throwing in conversation. Sometimes I write more lyrical/poetic stuff. Things for twc have gotten a little kinkier these days. So a mixed bag of things. I don’t know. Depends on my mood I guess.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I started to co-write one before and it was a blast! 10/10 would co-write with someone again.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oof. I don’t know. Solavellan is up there but so is Bethistair. And current twc ship obsessions are up there.

You know what, I don’t like this question. I can’t pick a favorite okay.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?

Honestly, I don’t know. The dream is to finish every wip I’ve started. Maybe come back and ask me this in five years. Lol

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m decent with dialogue these days actually. I’m also concise I think and I’m creative.

Oh I’m good at adding drama and decent at adding layers to my writing.

I once had someone tell me I’m great at writing the metaphysical. But I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not. I’ll just put it here anyway.

I’ll be honest, this feels really weird to write this out.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Brain is much more suited for this purpose. It wants to scream–everything—but too bad. Here’s some things though.

Getting discouraged easily.

Staring at a blank page for too long.

Adding too many subplots—a downside to my drama loving ass 😅

I feel iffy about my pacing.

I could get better at cutting the transitional sentences. Too many of those.

Editing is the bane of my existence and it probably shows–sorry about those grammar mistakes I still missed after 100 read throughs.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don’t know. I don’t have any. Now I’m wondering if I should be thinking about this 🤔…

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age 🥲

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Again with the singular favorite. Cruel to make me choose.

From Dragon Age: Birthday Boy (ch 4)

From TWC: plant saga

Tagging @ellstersmash @kittlesandbugs and literally anyone else who sees this and hasn’t been tagged (I feel like everyone else I know has already been tagged lol)

#bear writes #about bear #I haven’t done one of these in an age #thanks friends for the tag!#dragon age #mass effect #twc #I’m actually p proud of my own word count up there #also I’ve made a lot of progress in writing #also fuck you to the jerks out there who used to hate on my writing!#long post

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dathen · 4 years ago

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Word Search

Characters: Jonathan Sims & Sasha James Word count: 1,172 Spoilers: None Other Tags: Nonbinary Sasha, Nonbinary Jon, Agender Jon, Autistic Jon, Autistic Sasha Link on ao3

Summary:

Despite the unwelcome shift his promotion brought to their interactions, rambling about linguistics with Jon was an easy pastime to fall back on. -- Featuring burgeoning Jon and Sasha friendship, mutual infodumping, and Fun with Gender (or lack thereof). Set during early season 1; written for the @t4tma event.

Sasha fidgeted with her jewelry. It wasn’t the usual nervous energy that she rode like an ocean wave while chasing down a lead or digging into a subject that snagged her attention. No, today, she just felt...off. Was it the new outfit? It was a bit dressier than her usual trousers-and-cardigan style, with a full length skirt that she’d finally found to be long enough for her height, and a scarf that she bought for the soft texture alone. Maybe it was the jewelry…? But that was the same as she usually wore, and yet each time she passed the mirrors in the break room or washroom that off-balance feeling returned. Finally, she gave in to the impulse to take off her earrings before snatching a file from her desk and marching towards Jon’s office. A distraction would help.

“Found that statement you said was missing in the sequence, Jon,” Sasha announced as she opened the door and poked her head in. (Oh good, he wasn’t recording. Though she was pretty sure the others were exaggerating how grumpy Jon got when interrupted; he never seemed too bothered when she dropped by out of unannounced boredom.) “Looks like it’s still missing a page, though—no translation with it.”

Sasha was surprised that Jon’s answering sigh didn’t send papers flying off his desk. “If it was translated at all. Nothing about the state of this place would surprise me,” he answered. Jon took the offered file and peered at it with what was now a too-common scowl, but the sourness radiated exhaustion.

Oh, he was wearing earrings again today. Small silver hoops not too different from a pair she saw Tim wear sometimes. I wish I could look like that when I wear earrings. She stomped on that thought with a short shake of her head. Where on earth did that come from?

“Looks like my staples were a good idea,” she pressed on with as much brightness as she could muster. “At least if we get a translated copy, we can be sure it won’t get separated from the rest.”

The tired scowl melted into a tired smile. “Thank you, Sasha. That has been a very helpful solution.”

The gratitude in his voice stifled the usual irritation she felt at being called "helpful" by someone she’d seen fidgeting before his first interview with Mr. Bouchard. How someone who’d been hired during her fourth year here ended up with her dream job...no, she wasn’t in the mood to wallow in that on top of everything. Instead, she flopped down into the chair across from him. “Mandarin, looks like. Don’t we have a sister institute in Beijing? The Pu Songling Research Centre? Maybe it’s from their archives.”

Jon hummed. “We can inquire if they originally lent it to the Institute; I don’t know if they translate to other languages in their collection, but perhaps they could put us in touch with someone who can…?”

“Either that or run it through the ol’ google translate. My Mandarin is a bit rusty.” At that Jon laughed, a tight-lipped huff of a thing. He used to laugh a lot more before his promotion, and she found she missed it. Sasha grinned before she continued. “I did try learning some once! When I was sixteen. I thought the writing was so nice, and wanted to impress my Gran. Didn’t last long, though.”

“I’ve heard it’s remarkably difficult to learn,” he said.

“Oh, for sure. Switching to French was easier, though I wasn’t a fan of memorizing word genders for everything.” Her thoughts skipped ahead a step or two, and she found herself adding, “Did you know that Mandarin only has a single pronoun for all genders?”

Predictably, Jon brightened and sat up in his chair, suddenly looking like someone who’d slept sometime in the past few days. Despite the unwelcome shift his promotion brought to their interactions, rambling about linguistics with Jon was an easy pastime to fall back on. “Is that so?”

“Yup! I won’t pretend that the rest of the grammar wasn’t brutal, but that almost made me jealous, you know?” Sasha answered, toying with the edge of the cardboard folder.

Jon’s attention was like a physical weight. “Jealous how?”

“Dunno, I kind of wish English had something similar, you know? Instead of needing words that say right out ‘I’m a woman’ or ‘I’m a man!’” She kept her voice light, but shifted in the stiff-backed chair. Sasha hadn’t expected the sudden discomfort, but saying the words aloud felt suddenly vulnerable, like pressing a finger just beside an old bruise—just enough to ache.

The Encyclopedia Look immediately fell over Jon’s face (apparently, according to Tim, Sasha had one too; she wondered if it was as obvious as his). “You know, even in English some people use singular ‘they’ for their pronouns. It’s been used as a singular gender-neutral pronoun for hundreds of years; examples easily date back to the fourteenth century. Did you know that ‘you’ used to be plural as well?”

“I did know that! And formal, too—it’s funny to think how ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ were the informal means of address.” Sasha forced down the urge to continue the thought; English shedding the formality divisions in its grammar was a subject she could talk about for hours, but she was curious where this was going. “Still, I had my papers marked up with enough use ‘he or she,’ not ‘they’! back in secondary to know I can’t get away with it now.”

“That’s changing,” said Jon with a sudden fervor. “And besides, people aren’t research papers.”

Sasha hesitated, that off-balance feeling suddenly returning. It wasn’t discomfort this time, but why did it suddenly feel so personal?

Jon seemed to notice her faltering. “O-of course, it’s not the only way to depart from the binary,” he rushed on. “I mean, I still use 'he/him' because those are comfortable for me, and—“ He froze, eyes flicking towards the wall before he picked up the statement and held it in front of him like a shield. “A-anyway, ah...yes. If someone asked me, I’d have no issue using ‘they’ for someone who asked me. Regardless of what the Chicago Manual of Style has to say about it.”

It didn’t seem to be a pointed comment (except a grudge against the style guide), but Sasha felt the sudden conviction it was meant for her, even if Jon didn’t mean it for her. Sasha felt the familiar bite of curiosity that she knew wouldn’t let go, but for once she wasn’t sure if it was directed outwards or inwards. But Jon looked a bit flustered, still feigning interest in the unreadable document in his hands, and it was getting near the time that she agreed to meet Tim for lunch. “Good to know,” she answered easily, then tapped the top of the statement. “I’d best get back to work—let me know if you hear back from the Research Centre.”

She had some thinking to do.

------

Thank you to the Magnus Writers discord for answering the absurd amount of questions and fact-checking I somehow needed for a 1k word fic, to evanescentjasmine and Ixempt for the beta reads, and to TheDeafProphet for inspiring the concept! Also an extra shout-out to the Magnus Writers mod team for being my own Linguistics Mutual Infodumping Squad.

#tma #the magnus archives #t4tma #tma fic #jonathan sims #sasha james #my writing #HEY HEY I WROTE A THING!!!#FINALLY!!!

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a-little-slice-of-fandom · 4 years ago

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I’d love to hear your thoughts on the Irish-ness of Dracula, if you wanna ramble about it!

(Okay I just want to apologise for how long this took to answer because I know it’s been sitting in my inbox for over a month but..depression and work happened and I just didn’t have the time or energy to complete it. I seriously do apologise for this but I hope you enjoy the post anyway!)

So the first thing I need to clear up is this: the concept of a monster or a demon that feeds upon the life force of humans is not limited to one singular culture or folklore. In fact, this core concept is a wider cultural phenomenon and variations of it exist across both countries and continents. And no one country can take sole credit for the this core concept of vampires. Anyone who tries to claim otherwise either doesn’t know much about vampires or is intentionally being disingenuous. There can be cultural variations that are specific to certain folklores (and to just blatantly steal these would be cultural appropriation), but the main idea of vampires exists across a wide range of folklores and no singular person, group of people or culture can take credit for the creation of vampires.

However, arguably it was the work of Bram Stoker that aided in the solidification of the concept of Vampires that we know today. While there were other authors from a wide range of nationalities who wrote about Vampires before Stoker (including John William Polidori who wrote the Vampyre in 1819)...Dracula is the best known. (Now I personally believe that’s because Dracula is an absolutely banging novel, although I do concede that the prevalence of adaptations of Dracula from the 1920’s to today helps keep Dracula in the forefront of audiences minds.) In addition, it’s important to remember that Stoker was inspired by another Irish author Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, who wrote the novel Carmilla. As far as I know, Le Fanu and Stoker actually worked together on a magazine!

Another thing I think that needs clarification is the common belief that Stoker heavily/religiously based Dracula on the historical figure Vlad the Impailer. This is heavily debated by scholars. While there’s an obvious, undeniable similarity between the names of these two...the similarities start to wain after this, with only small similarities between the two and there’s even literal contradictions between the history of Vlad the Impailer and Dracula’s history in the novel. In fact, there’s not much indication that Stoker based the character Dracula off Vlad the Impailer, or even that he had a working knowledge of Vlad the Impailer beyond the name. In all 124 pages of his notes, there’s nothing to indicate that Stoker’s inspiration for Dracula came from Vlad the Impailer.

(Plus Dracula in the novel wasn’t even originally called Dracula...he was called Count Wampyr in the original drafts of the novel and this was only changed, from what I can gather, in the last couple of drafts.)

In fact, I’d personally argue that that connection between Vlad the Impailer and Dracula is actually something that’s been retroactively added by other artists, for example the 1992 film “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” heavily leaned into this idea that Dracula and Vald the Impailer were one in the same, and as time has progressed people assume that these elements were in the original novel when that’s simply untrue! Stoker didn’t write that! It’s a retroactive addition by other artists that’s just assumed by the masses to be canon. This phenomenon is actually super interesting and it’s absolutely not limited to Stoker’s novel Dracula/the modern day perception of Dracula (another example would be Mary Shelley’s version of Frankenstein versus the modern day perception Frankenstein). I’m not sure if there’s a word for what this is, but I like the term “cultural canon”, where something that’s been added in by other artists has become as good as canon within the minds of the masses and as such is ingrained within the cultural perception of something, despite it having no basis within the original piece or even directly contradicting what is in canon.

(Now I’ll absolutely concede that Stoker taking the name of a historical figure and possibly their likeness from another country and making them into a literal monster is something that should be discussed. I don’t know how Vlad the Impailer is viewed within Romania - whether he’s viewed positively or negatively or a mixture - but regardless he was a historical figure and Stoker did eventually use that name for his own creative purposes. Again, Stoker didn’t say that Dracula and Vlad the Impailer were the same person, that’s other artists doing, but there’s still issues with Stoker that needs to be discussed)

Now, I’ve seen people talk about how Stoker took a lot of inspiration from the Baltic folklore surrounding vampires for his novel, but I don’t really know this folklore very well and therefore I don’t feel like I’m qualified to discuss it. If anyone is more well versed in this topic wants to add to this post then they’re more than welcome to! I don’t deny that Stoker too inspiration from places other than Ireland (like the novel is set in Whitby) but I just feel like people over hype the relation between stokers Dracula and Vlad the Impailer.

Now, onto the Irish mythology side!

So the most obvious inspiration for Dracula comes from the story of Abhartach. here is a link to an actual, respectable retelling of the story of Abhartach which I’d highly recommend people read (it’s really not that long) but the key points go as follows:

There was this Irish chieftain called Abhartach, who was really cruel and the townsfolk didn’t really like him. So, the townsfolk and another cheiftain (known as Cathain) banded together to kill Abhartach. They did succeed in killing him (yay), however, Abhartach just sort of...rose from the dead and began another reign of terror (not yay). However, Abhartach needed to be sustained by blood and required a bowlful every day to sustain his energy. Cathain comes back and kills Abhartach once again, but Abhartach rises from the dead once more and now needs more blood. Abhartach is only banished when Cathain uses a word made from yew wood and wounds Abhartach with it. Abhartach is buried upside down with a grant stone over the grave to stop Abhartach rising once again.

Sound familiar? The similarities between Abhartach and Dracula are undeniable! Yes, there’s some differences between the two but the core story here is almost identical. I could totally reword that paragraph, omitting the names, and it would be indistinguishable from a short summary of Dracula! Even the way that the main characters find out about the wooden weapon that can kill the monster is similar, as both Jonathan and Cathain go to wiser and older members of their community to learn more.

(Also please mythology blogs don’t come for me I know my retelling was an incredible oversimplification but I’m writing on my iPad and my thumbs are starting to hurt. People have wrote full papers on the similarities between Dracula and Abhartach and there’s so many more people more qualified than me, I’m just an 18 year old trying to make a fun and interesting tumblr post. Again, if anyone wants add anything like extra sources or more information or even to point out my mistakes then I more than welcome the additions)

Another piece of folklore that’s also said to have inspired Dracula is the Dearg Due. Now there’s multiple different versions of the tale, but the version I have heard goes like this:

There’s a noble woman who wants to marry a penniless peasant boy, but her dad disapproves and wants her to marry another man who is much richer. The rich man and the noble woman were eventually married but the woman didn’t love the rich man. In retaliation, the rich man locked the woman in a windowless castle where she starved to death. The woman was buried by the locals who took pity on her, but because she was buried hungry she came back to life and drank the blood of her father and her husband as revenge. The version I heard says that the dearg due now basically wanders ireland drinking the blood of men who have hurt or wronged women (as one should) but there’s other endings to the story.

(Again is anyone has a reliable source they want to share then please feel free to add!)

So this is another Irish piece of folklore that clearly includes some elements that we now associate with vampires. Now people (including Wikipedia) claim that this story was specifically what Stoker based Dracula on, and while I definitely think that Stoker was aware of this story and took inspiration from it, I personally think that the Dearg Due inspired the concept of Dracula’s wives more than Dracula himself.

However the key point still stands: Stoker was likely aware of these legends and even the most staunchly anti-Irish person would have to concede that there’s similarities between all three stories. And very rarely are these similarities discussed in classes about Dracula...which I feel is a real disservice. I don’t think students should have to have an intense knowledge of Irish mythology (my knowledge is spotty at best) nor do I think it should be an exam question...but even a brief acknowledgment of “hey, Stoker was inspired by these stories and you can clearly see similarities between them” would be nice. Moreover, it further solidifies my original argument that Stoker was, at least to some extent, Irish and that his Irishness inherently influenced his work.

Also...the social context of what was going on in Ireland in this period can’t be ignored! Again, while Stoker did spend time in both England and Romania, he spent a lot of his life in Ireland and therefore would have known what was going on in his own country.

Dracula was published in 1897, which is exactly 50 years after the worst year of the Irish Famine/ The Great Hunger/An Gorta Mór. Now I don’t have time to do a whole history of the Great Hunger but the effects of the famine were greatly exacerbated by the horrific mismanagement of Ireland by the British government and the British system of ruling in Ireland. How many people died during the famine isn’t clear, but we do know that the population of Ireland at the time was 8 million and the population today is 6 million...200 years later and we still haven’t recovered. So while we all like to joke about the fact that Stoker wrote about an unfeeling member of the aristocracy literally feeding off others with no remorse and basically ruining their lives...are we really going to pretend that there isn’t social commentary there? Scholars specifically think that Stoker was commenting on the absentee landlords (basically British aristocrats who owned land in Ireland but didn’t live there and as such didn’t care about the well being of their tenants) who would often have tenants forced off the land when they couldn’t pay rent...despite the fact that their tenenants were already starving and had no money because their only source of food and income failed.

(I’m not being shady by the way, I also love to joke about the social implications of Dracula, but I feel like people forget that the jokes have actual points behind them)

There was also a cholera epidemic in Ireland in 1832 which is generally accepted to be one of Stoker’s biggest inspirations. You can read more about the epidemic here if you wish, but I’ll summarise what I feel are the key points. Not only was Stoker’s mother from county Sligo and lived through this cholera epidemic, but Stoker also asked her to write down her memories of the epidemic and used her accounts to aid in his research of the cholera epidemic. Now the fact that he was actively researching this should indicate that it would influence his work, especially considering the situation in county Sligo was incredibly morbid. There’s accounts of the 20 carpenters in Sligo town being unable to make enough coffins to keep up with the amount of people dying, resulting in hundreds of dead bodies just lying on the street. However, the most horrific account from this epidemic was the stories of terrified nurses placing cholera patients into mass graves while they were still alive. Stoker himself literally stated that Dracula was “inspired by the idea of someone being buried before they were fully dead”. So while at first there seems to be very little relation between the novel and a medical epidemic, it quickly becomes clear that Stoker’s fascination with this historical event influenced his writing.

My overall point is that Stoker’s irishness inherently influenced his writing. Writers don’t write in their own little bubble, divorced from the world around them, their views and work are shaped by their position in society and their upbringing (it’s why I dislike death of the author as a literary theory). So when people try to claim that Dracula is a piece of British literature...it indicates either a lack of understanding of the context in which Stoker was writing in or a wilful ignorance founded on colonialist ideas. His influences are so obvious to me as an Irish woman but they rarely get discussed, and even if they are it’s seen as overreaching! To call Dracula British literature and to ignore the inherent Irishness of the novel does a great disservice to Stoker!

Anyways I really hope you enjoyed this discussion my love! Once again I apologise for how long this took to write. Also I’m sorry if this comes off as argumentative or anything, that absolutely wasn’t my intention, I just have a particular style of writing long posts haha.

#dracula #bram stoker #irish literature #british literature #bram stoker’s dracula #gothic #gothic literature #ask #ask answered #anon ask #anonymous ask #anon #anonymous #being irish is my only personality trait

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