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elwolfen · 7 months ago

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Alfred Molinathon Day 2:

The Steal (1995)

Cliff Williams

His Role: I didn't expect much going in. Hell, I have never heard of this movie till I watched this for the marathon. A sculptor and clean freak roped into a hi-tech robbery with the messiest American woman to exist and it's a romance!? Excuse me? I love it. I was not expecting a romance, I just knew it was a comedy!

He was hilarious to watch in this unraveling series of events. Him playing this Tony Brummel character and Kim, as his fiance? I love her aggressive, fake New York accent and her playing dumb. Every time no one was looking, he'd just quietly snap at her. To which I was mimic but with more aggressive growling because I thought it was funny to me.

Kim being tech savvy and Cliff being a luddite (being opposed to new tech) is interesting. She'll go on about the intricacies of what she can or can't do with her laptop and him just trying to grasp any of the words she's saying. But then the reverse happens when it comes to his building planner expertise, and she gets feel the ame as hedie with her hacking. Very nice touch, simple and effective.

Every time she'd make a mess and he just stare in disbelief of her disrespect, I really felt that (even though I can also be quite messy). Her being like, hey, I made you coffee and he finds the milk and stuff spilled all around the cup of coffee was insane. I swear she had to do that on purpose!

Kidnapping Childwell was certainly a chore for the two, first getting the man in the first place! Cliff putting on a fake beard over his beard was an interesting choice, and it constantly falling off when waiting for Lord Childwell to get ready was making me squirm with anticipation of the fact he might get caught, always trying to fix while quickly switching back to his stoic and stone-faced persona as the driver. I'd probably keep questioning my eyes or sanity if I was the Lord. And the drive while Kim tries to start the gas to knock him out, my God! What was the issue? Have Cliff help you! Instead, it kept spiraling out of control till the point she just shoves the little hose into the man's mouth and held his nose. Goodness, savage. After getting him to Mrs. Fawkes and taking the poodle pictures, Cliff is constantly threatening to cut off his ears and be like: I'm not being serious, calm down, you should have Stockholm by now. And yet he gives him a coat because he's worried he'll be chilly when they drop him in the middle of nowhere... he's giving this man whiplash! Probably Kim too. To be honest, I'd be the same.

I realized when watching this that wet suits? Kind of sexy, at least on those two~

Kim pretending to be French while Childwell shows up to the house and also starts speaking French, what does she do? She just outright drops it and says she's screwing with him. Just so random and hopefully it was believable for the moment. This movie has the calmest and most quaint car chase ever between the two duos (Kim & Cliff/Childwell & Wilmot). Not super tense or funny, it was just weirdly low stakes. But after that's all said and down, the inflatable boat going off in the car and the other duo driving into the water, we get Cliff getting reasonably upset and wanting to back out but BAM! A kiss from Kim! Then straight to the sewer.

The whole sewer scene. If I had a nickle for every time there was a sewer scene on 1995 movie with Alfred Molina in it, I'd have two. Which isn't a lot but- yes I know he wasn't in the sewer in Species. Anyways, it's a great long scene building the tension, and he's so damn impatient, I understand why. Being heard and someone slowly coming down to their little hideaway and the water quickly rising? Add in the fact that it was his fault they heard him, but it was whoever put that thing he accidentally kicked down the later when having a leg cramp. Kim just waiting and waiting, almost like a gambling addict waiting for a big win. Which, oh boy do they. After they finally leave and have to dive and swim underwater, I was actually worried Kim just outright drowned when Cliff couldn't find her, I would've been devastated. But thankfully she doesn't, I needed the two just caressing each other's face in the water, thank you.

The robbery was successful and they live on a beach, a nice call back to the beginning, where she saw Cliff's very interesting sculpture. At first, it looks like a cobblestone walkway (on the wall), but if you slide the two pieces apart, there's a beach underneath. She says that she likes the beach, he explains that it's metaphoric and also he doesn't like the beach. Yet, here they are together at the end. Finally, he can just retire and follow his interests instead of being a planner for the town council, all with Kim. It just ends right after.

Overall, I enjoyed Cliff and Kim's antics and blossoming romance very much. And of course him getting angry or frustrated never get old

~~~

The Rest of the Movie: I went through most of the plot on the above section. But we have Jeremiah, the man who instigates the whole thing. At first I thought from the description it would just be for money, but no, it's to steal from a corrupt bank chairman for cheating the people of Golanda and give it back to them. A more noble act than I expected. But after appearances, he disappears halfway through the movie, which I didn't mind. But the end he tells Childwell and Wilmot what's going on and I didn't exactly know why but it all went well in the end. 28 million was sent to the people of Golanda to help heal the damage that banker cost them.

~~~

Childwell and Wilmot were an unexpected turn into the story, I really liked their shenanigans with trying to figure out what kind of car he was transported in during the kidnapping (a Morris Minor or a Moggie as some call it). He has perfect memory of his surroundings; the feeling, sounds and the not very helpful clues in the pocket of the coat that Cliff gave him. Wilmot thinking it's all political got a chuckle from me.

Wilmot himself is quite interesting, having fall out of favor after some sort of exposure of his "parties" yet many people seeing him and knowing his style of living are quite friendly towards him. I love that everyone keeps asking if this whole search and the fact they keep seeing Childwell in his trousers (helps the process, really) and Wilmot simply says: of sorts~

~~~

The comedy itself is hit or miss, got a real taste in the beginning when Kim was in America. They tried with physical humor and such, but the cuts, pacing and delivery were very hindered. But I do believe it got better later on.

It's a nice quick watch, so if you have the time, I suggest checking it out if you like these type of heist movies.

#Alfred Molinathon #Alfred Molina #The Steal 1995 #Cliff Williams

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years ago

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drive-in: tom holland one-shot

a/n | in honor of hitting 700 followers and also getting my real life heart broken and needing my unproblematic fictional boyfriend back, here’s an oldie from the drafts.✌🏻 enjoy kiddos

cw | language, angst, a lil smut, teasing banter, fluff! 1.5k words.

“Mmm, darling, let me at you,” Tom mumbled against your lips as you lightly squeezed his shoulders, his hands fidgeting with the hem of your shorts, trying to wriggle them down. Just as he’d made some progress, you heard a loud snicker on the other side of your door.

You pulled your face away from Tom’s and averted your gaze to the front of the room, where you could see two pairs of socks in the crevice between the floor and the door, standing on the other side. Without letting you dismantle from him, he grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at the wall. “Fuck off, you pervs!” The kid-like chuckles coming from the socks continued.

The sudden interruption had killed the mood, so you just sat in Tom’s lap on his bed and laid your head against his chest, sighing. “Can’t they get a job?”

Tom combed a hand of fingers through your hair. “They do have jobs; they’re professional cockblocks.”

“And they need to work from home?”

“Everybody does, baby. We’re all stuck inside.”

“...right.”

You had to keep shifting around on Tom’s lap, uncomfortable from the sudden lack of pressure of his hands wandering over you. He had just gotten back from a press tour, you’d barely had any alone time with him since—and you were both getting pretty tired of not being able to rip each other’s clothes off like you’d wanted to since the moment he walked through the front door. Finally, you have a couple minutes to sneak away from the roommates you’re stuck quarantining with, and what do they do but follow you to Tom’s bedroom like absolute creeps. Creeps that seem to have a vendetta against you getting off. You’d spent too much time hanging out with them while Tom was gone, and now they were far too comfortable meddling in your personal life.

“How long do you think it’ll be til we’re actually alone again?” you asked, tracing over the freckles on his shoulders.

“I have no idea,” he sighed, falling back onto the pillows. “Who knows how long this will all last.”

“We might have to get pretty creative then, because I’m getting a little-”

“Thirsty?”

You smacked Tom’s arm as he giggled at you.

“I was going to say impatient.”

“So...horny.”

You pouted at him. “Can you blame me for missing you?”

He kissed your cheek and then your nose. “No, love, I missed you too. And if those idiots weren’t within earshot, I would’ve already had you screaming my name three times over by now.”

You kissed him back. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Long, countless days went by, the two of you stuck inside with Harrison, Tuwaine and Harry, trying to find a balance between friend time and couple time but failing miserably. The boys had made a bet behind your back on how long they could go before hearing you and Tom having sex through the walls, and they took their gambling way too seriously. It had been too long.

Seeing an ad for a distanced drive-in movie night being hosted at a nearby park, you jumped on the opportunity, convincing Tom to come with just so you could get out of the house. The night finally came, and you flicked off the group of boys as they shouted after you for leaving the bubble, more than ready for a good old fashioned date night.

“They really do hate us,” you chuckled as you zoomed away.

“Nah, babe, they love us—they’re just jealous we didn’t invite them.” He placed his hand on your own and squeezed it, playing with your fingers for the extent of the drive to the park, just as excited as you to get some one-on-one time.

You cozied up in the backseat of the car with Tom, wrapped in fuzzy blankets you’d brought with and watching Titanic on the large screen set up in the grass in front of where you parked. You were intently focused on the movie, as it was one of your favorites, but Tom spent half the time looking at you, feeling you breathe, smiling at the top of your head nestled into his arms.

Up on the screen, Jack and Rose were in that carriage car on the boat, finally getting their big sex scene, starting to steam up the windows. You turned to Tom as you felt him laughing and shaking his head at the movie.

“What’s so funny?”

He pointed at the screen like the characters would be able to hear him. “So unrealistic, isn’t it?”

“Not really, people have sex in cars all the time.”

“No, no, I mean the windows. How did they get so foggy so fast? There’s no way that happens in real life.”

You were suddenly very interested in what Tom had to say and raised an eyebrow as you spoke. “Tom, have you never gotten laid in a car?”

You could see him turn pink with embarrassment through the light emanating off of the movie screen. “I have no comment.”

You nudged him and started to giggle. “Oh my god, you totally haven’t.”

He made an overly dramatic defensive expression at you. “And you have?”

“Actually, yes.”

Tom’s eyes widened a little as he saw where the conversation was headed. Maybe he’d brought it all up intentionally because he felt so deprived of your body, maybe not—but if he had, he was a damn genius, because it was working.

“And it does get that steamy, if you’re doing it right.”

“I guess I’d just have to see for myself.”

He’d barely finished his sentence before you climbed onto him and firmly planted your lips on his. It usually didn’t take much for him to get you excited, just his husky voice and the right lighting; you hadn’t realized until now how pent up you were.

“God, take your clothes off,” he huffed out, wasting no time in getting to work nipping over your skin as it was revealed.

“Charming,” you laughed, working your hands up his torso to get his shirt off too, Tom wincing as you did.

“Oooh, y/n, your hands are so cold!”

“Deal with it, Holland, I’ve waited too long to be stopped by cold hands.”

Tom was getting more riled up by the second, pushing you into the back of the driver’s seat behind you and speaking impossibly low in your ear. “I need you bad.”

“Take me then.”

You’d managed to get practically naked after doing some pretzeling in the backseat, Tom pulling you on top of him again. You tried to get into it but it didn’t last long—the seat was too close to your knees for you to get at a good angle, and you had to duck so your head didn’t hit the roof of the car.

“Okay, maybe lying down-?” Tom pushed your back into the seats, hovering on top and immediately sinking himself into you the moment he got the chance. You took a sharp inhale and already felt a dizzying high.

“God, finally...”

Tom took a few slow, heavy thrusts into you. “Missed you so much baby,” he leaned down to kiss you, your bodies already sticky with sweat from the heat in the car.

Tom suddenly stopped his rhythm and made a face, trying to shift himself around. “What’s wrong?” you asked, whining at the loss of him.

“I barely have room to move my legs,” he groaned, your fingernails still claws on his biceps, begging him to come back.

“Make it work? Just don’t stop fucking me, please,” you pulled his neck back down to bite his bottom lip, knowing that always drives him crazy.

“Fuck, I know, let me try something...” he found another sweet spot and was suddenly filling you up again, his flushed breaths and small mews making you smile underneath him. It wasn’t graceful, but you made it happen.

You came together as Jack and Rose professed their love for each other, making the romantic scene all too fitting. Tom moved to give you space to sit up, putting his face in his hands and sounding defeated. “Car sex looks a lot easier in the movies.”

You giggled at him and put your clothes back on before someone peeped into the now-clouded window. “Told you it gets steamy.”

Arriving back home later, Harrison and Harry sat at the kitchen table looking like two angry parents about to lecture their teenager on keeping curfew. They stared as you and Tom came in together with arms wrapped around each other, skin looking happily flushed, faces practically glowing.

“What’s got you two lovebirds so happy?” Harrison asked.

“Oh, it was just a really good movie,” Tom smiled, taking your hand and leading you back to his bedroom. “We’re wiped. Goodnight!” he promptly shut the door and laughed with you at Harrison’s puzzled face.

Harry walked over and peered down the hallway. “Goodnight? But it’s barely past sundown-”

Harrison patted him on the shoulder. “I’m afraid you might owe me a few quid, bud.”

Harry stayed confused. “Why?”

Tuwaine appeared from his room, pulling his gaming headphones aside to yell his reply down the hallway. “They fucked, you div!”

Harry connected the dots and looked like he was going to be sick. “Ugh, gross! That’s my brother!”

moots & taglist if y’all still exist:

@peterspideysstuff @duskholland @sinisterspidey @ladykxxx08 @bothlovinglyandhatingly @tinyyoungblood @harrisonsoceaneyes @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @we--are---not--afraid @danicarosaline @bunbun9396 @sad-thinker-over @spideymoe @words-to-accomplish-something @thenoddingbunny-blog @iriaaarb @hellsdragon @cap-marvxl @tomshufflepuff @itstaskeen @writertoo18 @ethereal-beauty-p @sufwubi @quaksonhehe @biebsmylife95 @fermuda2 @dorbiksbitch @jejegu @holyfrickfracks @iconic-hes @parker-hollandx @keithseabrook27 @sovereignparker @mlmarint @bangtanfancamp @quacksonholland @cosagach @hedwigprewett12

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tomholland #tomhollandoneshot #tomhollandfanfic #tomhollandsmut #bye again

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keltonwrites · 3 years ago

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I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed. “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

Subscribe to the newsletter here. Follow on Instagram here.

#newsletters #amwriting #relocation #home renovation #cabin life #cabin living #colorado #log cabin

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chalkrevelations · 4 years ago

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Ep 27 of Word of Honor, and that was … Well. That was definitely the unicorn chaser to spending so much time and hugging with Awful Yifu in the last episode.

(Spoilers, as ever, so scroll away and come back later, if you’re still planning to watch unspoiled.)

I mean, what is there to say?

Ha, no, really, I can find plenty to say. Buckle up, I guess.

Clearly, I’m going to talk about The Scene, and there’s a lot going on here, besides the obvious cake frosting of everyone coming to everyone else’s rescue and the fighting and the crying and the declarations, and then once it’s all over, when everybody’s still hopped up on adrenaline, before the crash hits, the shouting and the laughing. At the end of it, we’re not even 20 minutes into the ep, and I feel like that should have been the climax (har), but they probably knew nobody would be able to concentrate on anything else that came before it. I’ve seen a couple of interviews now where Zhang Zhehan said he wanted to play Wen Kexing, and given the chance, he would probably still pick that role, and then everyone involved in the interview rambles on about the complexity of the Wen Kexing character, and it makes me worry that Zhang Zhehan isn’t giving himself or Zhou Zishu enough credit for the depth and range that he pulled out of the character. There’s a lot of various people yelling at various other people in many different places in this show, but there’s not been a scene yet that I felt it like I did when ZZS shouts at WKX after Ye Baiyi finally goes away, wanting to know what the fuck he was thinking. That felt real, and it felt layered – like, there’s a bone-deep fear that’s giving that anger extra strength, fear about the fact that WKX could be so self-destructive. Which also may force ZZS to confront for the first time the idea that WKX could die and leave him alone, just like all his other shidi died and left him alone. I’d have to go back and rummage around in previous eps, but I feel like this could be the first time ZZS really has to confront the idea that could happen, and he’s probably not at all prepared for it, because he’s understandably expecting to be the first to go. But this idea that WKX could just disappear, and get himself killed (because let’s face it, Ye Baiyi tossed them both around like toys), and ZZS would never see him again – that he would abandon ZZS like that, just to hide his secrets – I think that might be part of the anger, here. (You don’t fail me … and Zhou Zishou’s expectations for what constitutes not being failed are a pretty low bar, consisting mainly of not getting yourself killed like a fucking dumbass, and even that bar suddenly seems to be too high for Wen Kexing to clear.)

There’s also a clear parallel here, need I say, to the scene in a previous ep when Gu Xiang (WKX) begs Shen Shen (Ye Baiyi) that even after Shen Shen (Ye Baiyi) kills her (him), could he just for god’s sake not tell her (his) boyfriend who she (he) really was. Wen Kexing’s supposedly thought-out plan was basically just going to be what A-Xiang came up with on the fly, and stupid babies need the most love, I remind myself grimly, particularly when all this is about something Zhou Zishu already knew anyway, because he’s a brilliant former merciless assassin, not a good-hearted self-deprecating cinnamon roll who thinks he’s the least talented person in his sect like Cao Weining. We’ve also got some tasty philosophical stuff in this whole confrontation, including competing responsibilities – loyalty vs. justice vs. integrity – along with ideas of retributive vs. restorative justice. This is another good Zhang Zhehan acting moment, because that whole bit about how, actually, Grandpa, his shifu would have been about guiding his shidi toward kindness and making up for the mistakes he made – I actually believe he’s wholly thinking about Wen Kexing when he pulls out this philosophical rapier, and not at all about how restorative justice benefits ZZS, himself, considering how much blood he has on his own hands and that earlier conversation about frying in oil for 80 vs. 100 years. Good job, my friend. The one thing that makes me sad about this scene is that I’ve seen That Extra, and I hate we were robbed of not only Zhou Zishu actually laying his head on Wen Kexing’s shoulder but of Gong Jun’s single crystalline tear spilling down his cheek. Zhang Zehan’s right, that was a better take.

Anyway, Ye Baiyi proceeds to put WKX under house arrest, which, just. So he has to live with ZZS for the rest of his life? Please don’t throw him into the briar patch, right?

Also, yes, WKX. He’d die for you, dumbass. God.

Just to drive home the point of how the Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou and Gu Xiang/Cao Weining relationships are the same relationship, we then go to a scene … well, we then go directly to a scene where Cao Weining is just sitting there, chin in hand, gazing adoringly at Gu Xiang, much the way Wen Kexing has been gazing adoringly at Zhou Zishu since about Ep 3 2 1 … but that also leads into a scene where Cao Weining is interrogated about Gu Xiang by his shixiong in a milder, miniature version of the grilling ZZS just took from his elder. “Do you know who she is?” Whoever she is, he’s going to continue to respect her boundaries. “I promised her, so I won’t betray or distrust her.” “We’ve been through so much together.” (“We’re in the same boat anyway, we might as well stay together.”) I won’t fail you. Nobody in this scene has actually made the Ghost Valley connection, yet, and Cao Weining is not as canny as Zhou Zishu, so we’re not yet going to get any kind of resolution on the issue in this relationship - but given the way these relationships are running on parallel tracks, I have positive feelings about how Cao Weining is going to meet this challenge (not that I didn’t, anyway) once the info finally does come out.

What else, what else? We do go back to Xie Wang and Awful Yifu in this ep, and oh boy.

Xie’er: Ghost Valley Master’s faithful minion Heartless Amethyst Fiend has been sent by her master to sneakily follow Cao Weining and infiltrate the Gentle Wind Sword Sect where the Glazed Armor is being held.

A-Xiang, chillin’ outside the gated community in a rustic cabin with her fiancé, doing some mending and waiting for her wedding day: Never speak of my former master again, I have utterly left that life behind me. Also, what should we have for dinner?

I can see how you would come to the conclusion you did, Xie’er, but wow, the only time you’ve been more wrong in your life is about your Awful Yifu. Speaking of which, it appears the cat Awful Yifu is out of the bag. Xie Wang is still all, “Since you saved me, you can take my life back if you want,” and here we are in Zhou Zishu-Prince Jin territory again, shades of ZZS in Ep 1 not even blinking as he offers himself to Prince Jin and takes the gamble that he won’t just get his head cut off for his troubles. ALSO, I distinctly remember telling you, Xie’er, that you were empathizing (although not sympathizing) a bit much with the women of the Department of the Unfaithful, and here we do in fact get an explicit comparison, looking back to the conversation with Beauty Ghost about her loser boyfriend, when you refer to yourself as “also a gambler” as you take your leave of Zhao JIng. You need some Water of Lethe, buddy. Or do you think – to return to that conversation and the parallels with Beauty Ghost – that if you remember all this, you’ll stop making the same mistakes?

A last few random things:

lol, let’s all take a minute to giggle over the fact that ZZS has, in Ye Baiyi’s words, associated with this dude. Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Sorry, but I had to pause the show at that point to snicker like a 12-year-old.

Chengling: “How dare those ruffians beat my two dads! Let’s burn down their house.” Wow. OK. Xiang-jie has been … some kind of influence on her didi.

Last scene of ZZS and WKX, oh my god:

ZZS: You’re feeling bad for keeping a secret from a kid? What about me? How are you going to make it up to me?

WKX: Oh, my goodness, look at the time. I’m feeling so … sleepy. Yes, that’s it. I must go to bed. You also must be so … sleepy. You should. You know. Go to bed. Too. Also. To cure your … sleepiness. As you do, in a bed. Where I will also be.

Me, to the screen: He’s going to make it up to you on his back.

Also me: :facepalm: You are a pair of merciless killers. How are you this adorable?

#zhang zhehan #zhou zishu #wen kexing #ye baiyi #gu xiang #cao weining #xie wang #zhao jing #zhang chengling #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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starksvixen · 4 years ago

Text

Falling For A Maybank

Summary: Based on the song Falling In Love x Night Troubles.

Requested: No.

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Language, Underage Smoking, Some Angst

Well now really when we go back into falling in love. And say, it's crazy.

“Madam,” JJ says, his hand reaching out to gently grasp onto yours.

He gently lifts you onto John B’s boat from the docks, the cheekiest grin etched onto his tanned face. It’s infectious, causing you to mimic that same grin as you put down the cooler in your hand.

“Thank you, my good sir,” you reply, giggling softly as you handed him a beer.

“Ooo, my favourite,”

His fingers tickle yours as he gently takes the beer from you, goosebumps travelling up your arm at a rapid rate. But you shake it off, taking a step back from him as your smile slightly disappears. It was a trap to like him, the guy with a new girl in his bed every night.

“So? Where are we off to today?” you ask to no one in particular.

“Probably just back to the marshes, after that hurricane last night there is surely more fish ripe for the fishing,” John B replies as he drives off into the water.

Softly, you nod, pulling a beer out of the same cooler that rocks against the boat’s floor. As soon as the top meets your lips, almost half of it’s contents disappeared within a few minutes. Maybe under the influence you could calm your nerves, finally enjoy yourself for the first time in weeks.

As soon as your butt hits the seat beside Kie, a knowing eyebrow of hers raises up to meet her hairline.

“Oh, god, Kie, not again,” you mumble quiet enough for only her to hear.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” she whisper yells. “There is obviously something between you two.”

You take another long sip from your beer bottle, trying to avoid looking straight but you do. His eyes meet yours, that classic grin returning at the sight of you. Instead of returning the smile, you quickly turn away, swallowing the bitter liquid down hard.

“No, no it’s crazy,” you reply softly.

Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall.

You both were walking on the beach where the water meets the sand. It had been a long night at a graveyard party. Watching JJ constantly flirt from girl to girl didn’t hurt any less then it did before. How you ended up walking down the beach, only the moon’s light cascading across your faces, you still didn’t know.

“(Y/N), it’s a brilliant idea!” he exclaims as he chuckles. “We just need a fuck ton of weed and paper.”

“And probably an ambulance from overdosing,” you giggle softly.

“No such thing,”

“You will be the first person to make it happen, JJ, I can see it now,”

“I feel high all the time, (Y/N/N),"

Your heat flutters at his special nickname for you, forcing your gaze down at your feet to hide your warm blush against the cool light.

“Well I can’t doubt that, now can I?”

Both of you fall back into a fit of laughter. Before you know it, you’re in front of the small shack you call home. None of the lights were on since your family had already retired to bed. You stop by your door, gently twisting the doorknob to open the door. Once you look up however, you’re met with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair tickling the tip of your nose.

If your heart could fly into space it would. You willed your feet to move backwards but they never did. Instead, you were frozen, looking into the eyes that brought you warmth, the hair your fingers had been tangled in many times.

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N),” he whispers softly, kissing your forehead before disappearing down your street.

You could deny it all you want, but deep down you knew. You had risen into love.

And it goes back, as a matter of fact, to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life.

You couldn’t take it anymore, constantly watching him flirt with other girls, having to help them find their clothes strewn across the Chateau the next day. You just couldn’t take it.

So, you withdrew. No longer were you on their boating trips. No longer did you show up to boneyard parties. Everyone would text you, wondering where you were. All of them get a response, except for him.

It angered him. All of the Pogues tried to comfort him, saying that she must have texted them all on accident. But he saw right through it. You were ignoring him, and he didn’t know why. He has to know why.

Without the other Pogues knowing, he snuck away and was on his way to your house when he passed the park you played at when you were kids. When he first fell in love with you. A bunch of boys had ganged up on you. Despite the beating he got, the boys left you alone from that day on. You took him home, cleaned up his wounds, both from the boys and his dad, and promised that you would be quiet as long as you two stayed friends. It had started back at the fundamental things.

JJ knocks lightly against your window, a frown forming when he notices that you aren’t drawing the blinds for him like you usually do. He knocks again, and again, until you open the blinds and lift the window out of pure annoyance.

“What do you want, JJ?” you mumble under your breath.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you! I just need to be alone,”

“Alone from me?”

“Yes from you!”

You look at him with tears falling down your face. The sight of it almost sends JJ into tears himself.

“Fine, then, I’ll leave you too it,”

And with a harsh sigh, he jumped off your window and was gone.

You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble.

You had recently come back to the group, pretending like nothing was wrong. But JJ knew something was, however after that day in your room he refused to speak with you. Kie had talked with you many times, to just take the leap already and tell him. And you promised you would...

The moment you take a step, you do so on an act of faith because you don't really know that the floor's not going to give under your feet.

You, Pope, and JJ had infiltrated the Midsummer Ball for the Kooks with ease, posing as waiters for all those who couldn’t see over their nose to get it themself. Your eyes couldn’t stay off of JJ the entire night. It became too overwhelming once JJ had returned from giving the note to Sarah. Without a second thought, you pull him close to you by the collars of his jacket, and you kiss him.

The moment you take a journey, what an act of faith. The moment that you enter into any kind of human undertaking in relationship, what an act of faith. See, you've given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done: surrender. See. And love is an act of surrender to another person. Total abandonment. I give myself to you. Take me. Do anything you like with me.

Without a second in between, JJ kisses you back and his arms hold your frame against his tightly. Once both of you come up for air, uncontrollable smiles grace both of your faces.

“JJ! (Y/N)! We gotta go!” Pope yells as the Pogues make their escape.

JJ runs after them with his hand around yours while you follow. Both of you grin ear to ear as you run towards the van. Without a second thought, JJ lifts you up by your hips and gets you into the van, sliding in right beside you. Once he was in beside you, he lifts you onto his lap, kissing you once more as your hands frame his face, kissing him back urgently.

“Fuckin’ finally!” Pope yells at you, causing both of you to break apart and glare at him.

“Just keep the PDA down why don’t ya?” Kie replies to Pope.

In response, you two kiss once more, making sure to add a moan or two in there to make your point.

#jj imagine #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rudy obx #jj maybank obx #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 4 years ago

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Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XVII

The following day, the royal retinue and guardian left Lestallum. With Gladio now back with them and the mythril refined, they were ready to head back to Cape Caem. It was a two-hour drive and once they arrived, they headed straight for the lighthouse. As they were about to step into the elevator, a dog with black and white fur ran up to Noctis. The boy kneels down, patting the canine's head. He then checks the notebook it's carrying.

While Noctis read Lunafreya's message, the golden-eyed dog trotted over to (Y/n). The spirit glanced down at the animal, wondering what it wanted when it barked at her. Squatting down, she held out her hand. The canine licked her hand, then nuzzled its nose against her palm.

"Hey, Umbra likes you!" Prompto stated excitedly.

"Umbra?" The girl reiterated.

"That's his name. He's a divine messenger of the Astrals." Prompto kneeled beside her and petted the top of Umbra's head. He abruptly stopped his ministrations when a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, wouldn't you be considered a divine messenger too? Y'know, since you can talk to an Astral?"

"Doubtful," she scoffed. "I'm not a divine being like Umbra. All I am is a vessel."

"Still, it's pretty cool."

After Noctis writes his reply in the book, Umbra moves away from (Y/n) and Prompto. He sits and waits patiently for the raven-haired boy to put the book back in the bag. With the book now back in his possession, the canine takes off. Everyone then boards the lighthouse elevator and rides it down to a basement area in a seaside cave. There, they find the hidden harbor and a makeshift living room area. The boat they'd be using to cross the ocean was docked nearby. Talcott, Iris, Cid and Cor appeared to have been waiting for them.

The little boy stepped forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Look, Prince Noctis! Even the marshal came to say goodbye!"

When the group reached the bottom of the stairs, Cor spoke up. "Something I gotta get off my chest."

Noctis met the marshal's somewhat melancholic gaze. "What's that?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there for your father. I swore an oath to protect the king, but I wasn't strong enough to uphold it." Cor lowered his head in shame.

Cid, who'd been silent until now, spoke up. "Ain't nothin' nobody could've done to stop what happened."

Noctis was quiet for a second before responding. "Yeah, I realize that."

"But you need to realize just what you mean to the boys by your side."

"I do."

"Even if they can't solve your problems, you can't hide what's goin' on from 'em. It hurts like hell. Remember—those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always."

As Noctis glanced at his three closest friends, Cor finally took notice of the (h/c)-haired girl standing behind Prompto. He saw her slitted eyes and the golden gemstone embedded in her upper right arm. After recognizing her as a spirit, he approached her. "You..."

(Y/n) met the marshal's gaze. She felt a somewhat familiar sensation when staring into his eyes. The moment she went to speak, Prompto beat her to it. "Is there a problem, marshal?"

Cor's gaze never left the guardian. "May I speak in private with her, Prompto?"

"Um..." The blonde glanced over at the girl. "I...don't see why not."

"Then let's head topside."

(Y/n) followed Cor up the stairs and into the elevator. They rode it back to the top and stepped off. He leaned against the wall of the lighthouse, eyes still focused on the guardian. "It's been a while since I've met a spirit."

"You're familiar with my kind?" She asked. The marshal slipped one of his hands into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. The jewel adorning it was black, cracked, and had a silver phoenix wrapped around it. The guardian easily recognized the gem. "Marshal, you...?"

"I once had a guardian. Viola was my entire world until the empire killed her. Her death was entirely my fault." Cor gripped the necklace tightly. "Before I became a full-fledged member of the Crownsguard, I was nothing but a punk. During my training, I was sent on a mission outside the city. Damn imperials swooped in out of nowhere and ambushed my squadron. She protected me and lost her life in the process. I truly never knew pain until I lost her."

(Y/n) hung her head with a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry for your loss, marshal."

"Even though it was over 20 years ago, the pain has never faded."

"Was Viola the one to tell you about the conduit?"

"Yeah. She learned about it from an elder guardian and told me about it during our final mission together." The marshal put the necklace back into his pocket. "So tell me, are you the conduit she spoke of?"

"I am. I only learned the truth after leaving the city and encountering the Archaean," she stated.

"Then our gamble paid off."

(Y/n) blinked in bewilderment. "What gamble?"

"The Crownsguard was aware of your presence within the city. You were only four years old when you and a baby were brought to Insomnia by one of our spies. We've kept tabs on you and the child in secret to ensure you weren't a threat to Lucis. Turns out, neither of you are." Cor analyzes the girl's face, but was slightly taken aback when her expression mellowed out. "You're not surprised by this news?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was," she confessed. "I never knew how I got to Insomnia, but I was aware of who I truly was. Verstael Besithia is my true master, not Prompto. I'm not the real (Y/n), I'm just a reproduction."

"So your memories of your creation are intact," Cor muttered. "Remember anything else?"

"Of course I do," she sneered. "That bastard is the one who killed the real (Y/n). I was made to replace her after she betrayed him. He thought making a perfect replica would erase the memories of the past, but he was wrong. I remembered everything when I turned 12."

Cor was thoroughly intrigued by the revelation. "Why did the real (Y/n) betray him?"

"His mind became corrupt and she no longer wanted to support his twisted experiments. She was set on leaving and sharing his secrets with Lucis, but he killed her before she could." She turned her back to the marshal. "I'm but a mere imitation of her with her memories. I'm a false guardian. Why the hell would Brahma choose me to be his vessel?"

"You might be a copy, but you're still a guardian nonetheless. If an Astral deems you worthy to wield his power, don't question it." Cor took a few steps back towards the elevator. "I've kept you long enough. You need to be on that boat with His Majesty."

(Y/n) stopped him before he could call the lift. "Wait, I want to ask you one last question. How'd you know who I was?"

A smirk appeared on the marshal's face. "You threw a fireball at me when you were five. Guess you don't remember."

"That was you?" She gasped. "So this isn't our first meeting."

"I was impressed by your power for a guardian your age. I'm the one who told His Majesty to keep you and Prompto together. We gave the bracelet to him once he was taken in by a family."

She rubbed her arm with a smile. "And I'm grateful you did."

"You kept your presence hidden well from the family. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, I was slumbering in the gemstone until Prompto turned five. How would I explain my situation to his adoptive family in a way they would understand?"

"You got me there." Cor summoned the elevator. When it arrived, they both rode it back down to the hidden dock. When the two stepped off the lift, they saw the boys and Cid were already aboard the boat. Seeing they were waiting for (Y/n), she said farewell to the marshal before quickly making her way to the boat. She climbed aboard just as the vessel came to life.

As the boat pulls away from the dock, Talcott suddenly shouts out to Noctis. "Hey! Your Majesty!"

"What's up?" Noctis replied.

"Please come back soon! We need our king!"

He nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. Count on it."

Talcott and Iris wave goodbye and Noctis waves back. The boat leaves Cape Caem and soon enters open waters. (Y/n) stood near the stern of the boat. While the boys chatted, she leaned against the metal railing and stared across the glistening sea. Her (h/c) locks blew through the salty breeze, washing away the weariness in her body. She sighed contently and closed her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them.

Spotting a multi-colored reflection on the surface of the ocean, the guardian's eyes traveled up to the sky. There, she saw the Celestial Crescent glowing radiantly with an array of beautiful colors. Her blissful smile fell as she recalled her conversation with Cor. Curious, she spoke to the god of creation. "Can you hear me, Brahma?"

Yes, Child. I am always with you.

"You said I have a pure heart and hold no ill-will, but I'm a fake. How can a replica be a pure spirit?" She inquired.

You are no mere replica. You are a pure Child of Pneuma regardless of your fabricated body. No other spirit has proven themselves to be as pure as you. Cast your doubts aside for they will only cloud your mind.

She hung her head with a heavy sigh. "I understand, but that still doesn't mean I'm okay being a fake. The real (Y/n) died years ago."

Believe in yourself. That is all you can do. Whether you are a replica or not, you must see your worth. You are the inheritor of my power and none shall take your place. Hold your head high and walk tall, Child of Pneuma.

The god was right. She needed to stop calling herself a replica and believe she was her own individual. Her powers and experiences were her own and no one could ever tell her otherwise. The belief she had in herself that she extinguished was burning brighter than ever. She smiled up at the sky. "Thank you, Brahma." Pushing herself off the railing, she walked towards the plush bench Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis were sitting on.

"Nice of you to join us, short stuff," Gladio commented as she came to a stop in front of the bench.

"Sorry, had to clear my head," she said.

"You've been doing that a lot lately. Gil for your thoughts?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's more of an inner turmoil that I need to deal with myself."

Prompto was too curious and pried further. "Does it have to do with what the marshal said to you?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"What did you two talk about, anyway?" Noctis inquired.

"He told me about Viola, his guardian. He lost her over 20 years ago. She's the reason why he knew about the conduit. That's...all we talked about." It wasn't the whole truth, but only a portion of it. The rest of the conversation she had with Cor would remain between her and him until she was ready to spill her darkest secret.

"The marshal had a guardian...?" Prompto gasped.

"He still carries around the necklace with her gemstone."

"He must've truly cherished her," Ignis commented.

Unconsciously, the marksman fiddled with the bracelet containing (Y/n)'s gemstone. "Yeah..."

Everyone fell silent. They enjoyed the sea breeze for a while until Cid sparked a conversation with Noctis. "So, soon you'll have yer old man's ring back."

Noctis nodded slightly. "Yeah. When we arrive in Altissia."

"Good thing. To him, it was his heritage."

"Is that what my dad said?" The raven-haired boy asked.

"Carrying a royal line ain't a task to be taken lightly," Cid explained. "For a small thing, that ring can sure weigh heavy. After he became king, I only ever saw his face in the paper."

"Wait—weren't you at the coronation?" Gladio questioned, interjecting into the conversation.

"Nah, I was long gone from the city."

"Must've been invited at least," Noctis commented.

"Had a fallin' out o' sorts with your old man. Right at the end of the trip," the old man said.

Prompto was taken aback at the revelation. "You did?"

Ignis then spoke up. "I was given to understand you stayed in touch."

"We buried the hatchet years later, but never talked face to face again. Shoulda paid a visit while I had the chance," Cid sighed sorrowfully. "Well, no use dwellin' on it now. Got the Regalia in the hold, but y'all gonna stay in Altissia for a good while, right?"

"Yes, we believe so."

"In that case, I'll tune her up for y'all. Not that I'll have much to do, though, what with Cindy lookin' after the old girl."

"If you say she's good, she must be great," Prompto said.

"She was never afraid o' hard work. Heaven knows she had a hard childhood."

""A hard childhood"?"

"He means her parents," Gladio clarified.

"Lost 'em both when she was little. Was big enough to understand, though...an' to hurt. But ya wouldn't guess that, seein' her now," Cid stated.

"Not at all. She's always so cheerful," Prompto said.

"Well, that oughta tell ya how far she's come."

(Y/n) decided to remain silent and listen to the conversation. She clasped her hands together behind her back, admiring Cindy from just how Cid talked about her.

After the conversation about Cindy died down, Gladio changed the subject. "Man, you must have seen your fair share of Altissia by now."

"Yeah... Only done been the once. Stayed a good while, though," Cid said.

Prompto leant forward, curiosity written all over his face. "What's it like?"

"Big ol' city."

""Big." Okay." Noctis was expecting more than just the word "big" and was clearly unamused.

"Well, it ain't the Crown City," Cid stated.

""Different." Got it."

"You'll see for yourself: foreign lands seldom lend themselves to trite explanations," the strategist claimed.

"Change o' scenery oughta do you good," Cid added.

Gladio huffed out a sigh. "Well, I'm all talked out. Can't be far to Altissia now, right?"

"We'll be there in no time. Nice having the wind at our backs."

"What should we do first when we arrive?" (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the boys.

"Lodging is our first order of business," Ignis answered.

Prompto sighed. "All work and no play..."

"Makes Ignis a dull boy," Noctis said, finishing his best friend's sentence.

"Someone has to babysit you two," Gladio stated. "Well, Noct still needs a babysitter. Prompto's already got one." His amber eyes landed on (Y/n).

The blonde went to retort, but then an idea came to mind. "You and Iggy can babysit Noct. I'm taking my special lady on a date!"

"It's not a date if she has to babysit your ass."

Prompto pursed his lips. "Hmph, you're just jealous I've got a beautiful goddess to walk around with."

"We're not good enough for you?" Noctis asked.

"I don't wanna walk around a city with a romantic atmosphere with three guys," the blonde groaned.

Gladio walked over and smacked (Y/n) on the back. "Good luck with this one, short stuff."

"I think a date would be nice," she confessed.

Prompto flew to his feet, pumping his fist into the air. "All right! This is gonna be so much fun!"

Once the blonde calmed down and sat back down on the cushy bench, Cid spoke up and mentioned he knew someone by the name of Weskham who runs a place by the name of Maagho. The group made note to visit the place after securing lodging.

A few minutes later, they enter Altissia waterways. The boat's radio came to life as a newscaster began broadcasting. "The government issued a statement promising that the reasons behind awakening the Hydraean would be clarified in the ceremonial address."

"Got a signal!" Prompto cheered.

"Delivering the address will be Lady Lunafreya, who was previously reported dead. This will mark her first public appearance since the violence that befell the signing ceremony."

"Lady Lunafreya's gonna give a speech?"

"Sounds like it," Gladio said.

"Lord knows—this world could use some wisdom," Cid sighed.

Ignis looked over at the raven-haired boy. "Won't be much longer now, Noct."

Noctis nodded. "Yeah."

Eventually, the boat pulls up to a guard who stands along the waterway. He asked the old man, "Does this vessel have an entry permit?"

Prompto was beginning to worry. "Uh, entry permit?"

"Relax. I got one." Cid holds up the entry permit the guard was asking for. "Here."

The Altissian guard examined the permit and nodded. "That's as old as they get. Seems in order. You may pass."

Cid drives the boat on ahead. Ignis eyed the old man and asked, "Prepared in advance?"

"You could say that. Thirty-odd years ago," Cid said.

"That's what the guy meant by "old"," Gladio remarked.

"Lucky us, eh?"

"That could've ended badly," Noctis commented.

"We could've always done some persuasion if it did," (Y/n) stated.

The prince met the girl's golden gaze. "You talking about bribery?"

"Something like that."

"Dude, that'd be sick!" Prompto chuckled. "Bribing our way into Altissia would totally be an amazing story to tell the others."

"I'm afraid we lack the funds for such a heinous act," Ignis said.

"Aw..." He hung his head with a dramatic sigh.

Cid slowly brings the boat into the docks. Everyone makes their way off the sea vessel and towards the city. Noctis walks up to a queue where some gatekeepers await. He was immediately stopped by one. "Sir! What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Purpose? Uh..." Noctis immediately looked at his advisor. "Ignis, a little help."

Ignis stepped forward and came up with the perfect excuse for them to enter the city. "We are scholars of the culinary arts, and we've come to study the renowned cuisine of your fair nation."

The gatekeeper believed the strategist. "Is that so? I wish you an enlightening stay."

The bespectacled man adjusted his glasses, turning to face Noctis. "Another one you owe me."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #prompto argentum x reader

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cat-26 · 4 years ago

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I'm doing this again: messy thoguhts while I watch MCC 10 from Techno's POV

Overall thoughts:

- I want to rewatch that Sky Battle, it was SO GOOD

- I need to watch Pete’s POV, maybe a few pieces of Wilbur’s

- The team was so good together, Eret is probably Techno’s biggest fan, Techno is so nice to Niki <3

Pregame: Techno thinks they are destined for 4th place. Eret thinks they can win. Techno doesn't want to put on matching skins because "once you do, your lose is guaranteed" (but he is being peer pressured) Techno: Niki, have you seen footage of Ace Race? Niki: Which one is that one? Techno: It's the one where you race They all have crowns! (Except Philza but he is a king nontheless) Techno is starting his stream now "Your score goes down at least 15% when you're wearing matching skins because the universe knows you're having too much fun so it wants to put you in your place" 1 - Bingo Techno's team doing good in Bingo makes sense: PHILZA MINECRAFT IS THERE Techno did great in bingo but they split the points so he is 17th hahahahahaha poor techno, he even memorized recipes and everything 2 - Parkour Techno actually trained for parkour this time! PeteZahHut is back!! Red is first, of course I like the changes, it's a lot of changes this time Wow Techno POPPED OFF after passing yellow section he was stuck on, like he completed all the following sections first try DREAM COMPLETED IT AGAIN AND PETE WAS ALMOST THERE 3 - TGTTOSAWAF I love writing the name of this game hahaha New map!

Niki to her turtles: "Can you please just calm down, your friend is dying!" Techno: "No I will not calm down!" The rocket spleef map is WEIRD

Trident map, poor Niki Krinios is doing amazing! His team has a great chance of winning Techno is also doing great Nooo Eret made it but didn't have time to wack a fan

Hate this punching map Haha Techno killed Tommy and Will killed Philza hahaha SBI killing spree The Antarctic Empire trained Techno for the ice boat map (Philza used his elytra too much, that's why he couldn't complete it) Techno is too good at placing blocks while falling!! Also he got saved by someone punching him hahah TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES 1st place!!! Top 4 players this game: Dream Techno Quig Sapnap yep I can see why

Techno math to see why Dream is ahead of him haha TECHNOMATH

4 - Sky Battle Uno Reverse is Confusing "Who here can bridge without falling" (No answer, they are all thinking the same: YOU, Techno, you can bridge) Round 1 The simmers are being killed by Aqua :( oh and lime TapL v Techno in sky battle yeaaah Ooh Techno is too good!! TNT plays!! Round 2 Techno aaking where Philza is for backup, he did the same with Calvin last time Dream got Philza and Eret Techno is TOO GOOD THE PEARL CLUTCH???? Round 3 Niki falling every round :( Them going to the simmers immediately, poor simmers they are getting bullied THE PLAYS HE KILLED THE GREEN TEAM WITH CREEPERS WHAT A GENIUS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD I WANT TO REWATCH THIS ROUND 100 TIMES THIS WAS AMAZING "2nd Place WHERE ARE YOUR PARKOUR POINTS NOW, DRE?" - Audience takeover Techno is losing this one, but battle box also works for them "Skywars.. sorry sky Battle... sky skirmishes" that is such a better name, Noxcrew change it to that "yall practice parkour don't act like you enjoy fun" - sick burn Techno I don't really enjoy dream hating on techno all the time... we're past it dream, please stop. I 100% support Techno ranting about that "I like Dre, I want to subscribe to Dre's youtube channel" (Dream’s name is cut off in the tab) 5 - Battle Box The power ups are veggies hahahah I saw it on the update video "There is a potato, I'm gonna farm!" No power ups... (the veggies don't work) Viewer team 1 DESTROYED Philza with the 3 kills against the undefeated team Cyan! Go Philza Minecraft! Now Dre. Dream really wanted Techno dead, I'm pretty sure it cost him the game. This team is TOO STRONG, THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP you can’t compete with that Dre!!! Aqua team DESTROYED, PEPE CAPE Techno got Pete when he was at 1 heart against 6??? Techno is invinscible after the duel!! "Who needs health when you don't get hit?" Techno killed by the viewer?? Invisible viewers?? Weird round against the viewers

Rushed by the simmers hahahahahahahahaha ---- 3/4 yellow team on top 10?? The mega chicken left from rocket spleef??? Philza is CURSED "I just want rocket spleef" :( poor Phil 6 - Ace Race Techno briefing Niki!

Everyone watched Pete's vod hahaha

The top 4 in lap 2 is sooo close together (pete, techno, quig and dream) Techno hit Pete in the air on the trident part??? So weird But he still got 2nd so GO TECHNO (and GO PETE!!!) All of them encouraging Niki <3 <3 NIKI SUPPORT <3 <3 NIKI SUPPORT <3 Techno fastest lap!! Techno is actually comforting Niki <3 I love this team 7 - Sands of Time Eret sand duty? Why not niki? Great communication so far 2 keys!! Techno is daring the lava parkour? Oh no he died in the lava with THE RED KEY This is going terrible Okay it is a little better Honestly 5th after that weird start is not that bad Uuh Techno wants to gamble with HITW, Phil says SG 8 - Big Sales at Buildmart About his list strat:

"There are two types of victory: You can beat the players or your can bear the makers of the game. On that day, we did both" Techno knows wood names now?? Who is this person? Bad organizarion at first but now they are oganizing yes Niki is lost Oh they are actually communicating this is better They are kinda slow though, and not oragnized enough. Bug with magenta blog nooo Techno is really terrible at this game -end of games- Top 4: Quig Techno Dream Pete Look at Techno having good sportmanship, being nice to Dream, Quig, George.... Green and Orange to Dodgebolt! Can Pete win this one? Green seems stronger but in dodgebolt "anything can happen" “green should have it” Green? Dream? Grian? -- they are all deaf!!! - Dodgebolt Round 1 False got Quig! He stood still (Leaf blower man is there, he apparently comes on on Saturdays) Orange 1-0 Round 2 Pete is down, Quig is not getting arrows Gets the arrow, hits it Cubfan 1v4, not happening 1-1 Round 3 Techno chearing for Scott to get Pete-Quig-Dream team haha Pete and Quig out, interesting! Orange has 2 arrows Beans and false!! Orange 2-1 "Smallishbeans, he 1v3d my team once"

Round 4 Quig out! "Orange's tactics are better" - yep, Techno is right. Green is not giving arrows to Quig, and Orange is targeting Quig False got 3??? 2v1 for the wiiin??? Shubble got one FALSE ACE FOR THE WIN ORANGE WINS!!!! PETE JOINS HBOMB IN 3 TIME WINNERS AND FALSE IS THE FIRST BACK TO BACK WINNER!!!!!!! The simmers are not last!!!!!!! #notlast #havefun -post game talk- Techno: Once again I strognly regret talking to Tomminnit Pokimane: Relatable -- Tommy: I am never awkward Techno: Tommy I watched your 1mil video

-end- They're all playing HIPIXEL YESSS

#technoblade #minecraft championship #philza #nihachu #eret #mcc 10 #mcc

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scullysexual · 4 years ago

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A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Reposted. Anniversary]

Jewel is one year old! In order to celebrate what is probably my greatest achievement in fic I’ve decided to re-release all the chapters. Not much has changed in terms of story but I’ve gone through and edited/fixed any typos and weird sentences that have popped up now and then. Me and my blog have both grown so much since writing this that I’m sure there’s many of you who have yet to have read or seen this before. So here you have it…my lil baby.

- - -

Chapter One

A cloud of heavy smoke rises from the four vapers, covering the clear sky above and littering it with stuffy grey puffs. People scramble about up and down the dock, trying to keep family members together as they rush to get through the gates. Others stand there gawking at the ship. For those not boarding it’s simply a day out; The greatest ship ever built, they call it and those who live nearby wasn’t about to miss out on such a historic day as this.

Mulder stares at it, surprised at just how wonderstruck he is with it. He never put much stock in the rumours when it was being built believing that she was just going to turn out as all those before her had. That the rumours were just that.

But he was wrong. Never in his life had he seen a ship as large as the one that towers over him.

He turns to Phoebe, reaching out for her hand as she climbs out of the cab.

“What do you think, dear?” Mulder asks as he helps his fiancé down. “Are you impressed?”

To no one’s surprise, Phoebe only scoffs at the ship, its presence not changing her mood in the slightest.

“It’s not as grand as the Mauretania.”

Bill Mulder chuckles behind them, handing their luggage to his man-servant, Krycek as the boy passes them onto a baggage handler.

“It’s much bigger than the Mauretania,” he says, ready to quote every fact he had memorised from the London Herald about the ship. “And much more luxurious,” he adds.

Phoebe only huffs, clearly becoming uninterested in their current conversation.

“Careful Fox,” his father warns him. “Hard one to please, that one.” Mulder only manages an uncomfortable laugh already well aware at the difficulties that come attached to Phoebe Green.

With time running out, they begin to make their way towards the ship, weaving their way through the crowds, Phoebe turning her nose up at every person not dressed to the nines, going as far as to dramatically balk and cover her nose as a lower-class foreigner runs across their path.

“Filthy immigrant,” Phoebe scorns at the innocent man. Mulder tries not to let his disgust show at Phoebe’s words, they’re excused after all and Mulder rolls his eyes at the clear disrespect his people show towards those less fortunate.

“He’s just trying to get to the ship, Phoebe.”

“Yes, well, maybe he should hurry to a bath instead.”

Mulder ignores her words, instead guiding her through the swarming crowds.

“Honestly Bill,” Mulder’s mother pipes up. “We couldn’t have gotten here earlier rather than scurrying around the docks like rats?”

“I was all packed and ready to go,” Bill says and indicates to the pair in front of him. “It was those two who weren’t.”

Mulder sighs. If anything, it was Phoebe who they had been waiting for.

“We did try to hurry, Mother. Phoebe couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Phoebe scoffs once more. “It’s not my fault that you told me to change.”

“I just thought you would get too warm wearing black all day.”

“I’m in mourning Fox,” Phoebe cries. “The weather doesn’t change that.”

Mulder resists sighing again. Phoebe had been mourning for weeks now. The loss of their baby had brought on this spontaneous trip. Phoebe, done with London and “wanting to get away from all the bad memories” all but demanded that they leave for America as soon as possible. A chance for a new start, she told him afterwards. They could get married here and start again. Next thing Mulder knew, he was packing his bag and going back to a country he hadn’t seen since childhood.

He felt trapped somehow, and it had nothing to do with the swarms of crowds. This was inside him. A cage or a hole he’d put himself in. One he wasn’t going to get out of any time soon.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She’s been sitting on this bench for what feels like hours now. The stuffy bar overcrowded with sight-seers only now they’ve done the sight-seeing and want to do some drink-beering.

She was told ten minutes. Ten minutes and they’d be looking for a ferry to take them back to Ireland. Dana was done with the place. Southampton was the same as everywhere else in England they’d been- the same people, the same scorning looks they’d get no matter where they go, the same rejections. It’s only a number of times a person can hear ‘no’ before they never want to hear the word again.

Her brother, however, had other ideas. They only came into the bar to ask if there were any ferries available to take them home and somehow Charlie had managed to be roped into a game of poker by a bunch of Norwegians who barely spoke any English between them.

The game had currently been going on for a lot longer than the ‘few minutes’ she was promised.

Dana sighs, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She’d order a drink if Charlie wasn’t currently gambling away their last penny.

“You lonely, luv?” Dana turns towards the speaker. His cockney accent thickened by the slurring of his words. “Ye want sum comp’ny?”

He stumbles towards her, catching himself on the rickety table and smiles at his clumsiness. Dana attempts to shuffle further back into the bench, failing.

“I’m fine,” she says turning away and hoping the man would take the hint.

But he presses on.

“Are ye sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.” She gets up before the man can say anything else, and heads over to Charlie’s table.

The boy is in full concentration mode. Lip caught between his teeth, eyes scanning his cards and the card laying down on the table. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Countless of times Dana has watched him play, never learning from the mistakes he’s made in previous games. This gambling addiction he’s seemed to have developed has cost them a lot in the finance department, a cost that Dana is not too happy about.

She taps him on the shoulder.

“Charlie, I want to go.”

“Hold on a second…”

His tongue replacing his lip, Charlie gives one nervous glance around at his fellow players.

“Charlie, we need to go.” She tries not to sound like she’s whining, he’s her younger brother for God’s sake, a child, she shouldn’t have to whine.

Charlie ignores her, a smile breaking out across his face.

“I’m sorry, lads.” He places his cards on the table, his smile turning cocky as he reaches over to take his earnings. Dana doesn’t miss the two pieces of paper lying on top of the money.

A large hand grasps Charlie’s. His grin falls as he stares in fear at the man.

“He cheat!” The man yells. With his hand still firmly wrapped around Charlie’s arm, he yanks him forward across the table, his other hand a fist that falls down and smashes straight into his face.

“Charlie!” Dana screams as his body falls slump against the oak. The man backs off as the bar grows quiet, ignoring the winnings that fall onto the floor.

With all concern for her brother, Dana rushes to his side, her hand falling on the boy’s face, wiping away the blood that drips down from his wound. You feckin’ idiot…she thinks.

Charlie’s eyes open slowly, despite the pain with smile it back.

“I won, Dana,” he tells her. “We’re going to America.”

Dana frowns, bewildered for the moment at what Charlie could possibly be talking about until her eyes fall to the two pieces of paper that lay on the ground. Realisation sets in and she reaches down to pick them up, turning them over to read.

The words White Star Line stare back at her. She looks from the paper in her hand to the ship outside and back to Charlie.

“You’re…you’re not serious?” she asks, full astonishment.

“Yep. Fecker put his ticket down as payment,” Charlie all but shouts.

Dana stares back at the ticket. She was really about to go to America and board the Titanic to get there.

“You’re gonna wanna be quick,” a fella beside them tells them. He points to his clock on the wall. “Boat leaves in ten minutes.”

At that, Charlie hauls himself off the table as the two siblings begin pushing what money remains on the table into their only bag, not caring for the coins that had fallen onto the floor.

“Hurry up!” Charlie urges her as Dana ties up the bag. “Come on, come on.” He takes the bag throwing it over his shoulder and grabs his sister’s hand, all but dragging her out of the bar.

They weave their way through the people, Charlie up front and Dana falling slightly behind. She fists her skirt in her palms, pulling it up so as not to trip over it, keeping her eye on Charlie ahead of her and praying she doesn’t lose him.

They almost collide with everything; people, a cart selling vegetables, a horse and carriage until finally they make it, out of breath and clutching at their tickets.

“Right, give me your tickets,” the crewman orders, his fingers making a grabby motion. They hand them over and the man all but snatches it out of their hands. His nose turns up when he reads the names.

“Leif and Ingrid Brevik?” he asks, sceptically.

Dana looks nervously at Charlie, worried that they had just ran all this way, got excited for a new future, just to be turned away at the doors once more.

“Aye, we’re Americans.” Charlie tells him doing nothing to mask his thick Irish accent.

The crewman gives once last glance at the ticket and them. Sighing and probably done dealing with steerage who’s English is minimal he accepts the tickets.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

Relieved, the pair rush in just as the crewman shuts the door.

They make their way down the crowded corridor. People stand looking at the various signs that point in directions of rooms, bathrooms, and general communal areas. They argue, an overload of different words muddled together to make one distorted language.

Dana isn’t paying attention, however. Her eyes switch from the number written down on the ticket to the numbers written on the doors either side of them. Charlie had gotten distracted, eyeing up every pretty lass that they walked past and Dana had ripped the paper out of his hands. If he wasn’t going to find their room, she will.

She finds it eventually. 23, near the end of the corridor. Charlie eyes up Room 24.

“Reckon a lass lives in there?” he asks.

Dana focuses on unlocking the door, a sly grin appearing on her face.

“I hope it’s a fat old man with a foot infection.” She looks up only to see the look of disgust appear across her brother’s face.

The door opens to their room. A single bunkbed, a desk and chair with a lamp set upon it, and a chest of drawers are the only furniture that occupy the room.

Charlie shares her sentiments exactly.

“Beats the cargo hold on a ferry.” He throws the bag onto the chair and proceeds to climb to the top bunk.

She stops him before he can claim it.

“Piss off, I get top bunk.” She grips the back of his shirt, yanking him off the ladder.

“Careful!” Charlie cries. “I’m already injured.”

“So move out the way before I injured you even more.”

He does as he’s told, not without pulling a face beforehand, and throws himself on the bottom bunk.

Dana lies down, thankful to be in a bed that actually feels like a bed and not a brick.

“Hey, Dee?” Charlie calls after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried?”

Dana thinks for a second, curious as to what Charlie thinks she should be worried about.

“About what?” she asks.

Silence passes and she waits for an answer.

“Nothing,” the boys says. “It’s nothing. We got nothing to be worried about.”

Frowning and profoundly confused, Dana decides to leave it.

Another bout of silence passes and perhaps Charlie’s fallen asleep, at least she thinks that until she hears his voice again.

“Hey, Dee?”

“What?”

“Do you still have that first-aid kit in the bag? My face is throbbing.”

#a jewel beneath the moonlight #chapter 1 #updated #anniversary repost #i write

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psycheswritings · 5 years ago

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Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Nine

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, a little misogyny and a lot of angst.

Word Count: 4795

Author's Note: So, how have you all been? Good, I expect. This chapter is a little, well, angsty. There is a lot of emotions going around and things start to go wrong for everyone. I will post the playlist for the fic soon but I warn you, I'll break your heart there might be some spoilers in the lyrics. The music recommended for this chapter is "Big Guns" by Ruelle. A big, huge thank you for everybody who still reads the fic even after nine ass long chapters. Be prepared for a lot more. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter; tags are at the end of the post and if you want to be added, let me know. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy discovers that Arthur and Michael are in prison and confronts Campbell about it. When Daphne discovers the whole ordeal about Arthur's prison, she and Alfie have a discussion that doesn't end all that well.

Nine

Things were going smoothly for the Shelby family - the pubs in London were earning a god profit, the exportation of the alcohol had encountered no hindrance so far and then there was Daphne, that had finally give in to his advances. Tommy should have expected that something would go wrong, because things had always been like that for them. It had been this way when his mom died and his father ran away, it had been like that with the war, this time was no different.

“We had a deal.” He entered the church to find the irishman on his usual spot, reading the newspaper. “Hey! We had a fucking deal!”

“I would think that you would moderate your language in a place of worship.” His tone didn’t conceal the disdain and Tommy has had enough of the attitude, so he rips the paper out of Campbell’s hands and throws it away, pointing a finger to the policeman’s face.

“We had a fucking deal.”

“Mr. Shelby, if you read the papers, you might have seen that the Home Secretary has got himself into a bit of a fizz about certain moral issues. Prostitution, protection, racketeering, drinking, cocaine and, of course, gambling. He has demanded results.” As the Irishman lectures, Tommy starts to pace around, breath uneven, trying his best to not let his anger take over. He had to think of a way to get them out of this situation.

“You offered me protection. You promised me protection.”

“Well, no, you see it was Mr. Churchill that made you that promise. And the Home Secretary outranks him, so…” Campbell observes as Tommy walks around before saying. “And I can hardly be blamed if your demented brother decided to go on some sort of blood orgy during dinner.” The little patience that the gangster had was gone and as he approaches the policeman he is already shouting at him.

“Don't fucking lie to me! Do not sit here in your fucking church and lie to me!”

“You will need to contain your emotions or this meeting is at an end.” Tommy faces Campbell for a moment, his only wish is to put a bullet through his head, has been for a long time, but he tries his best to regain his composure, stepping back from the man and turning his back from him, resting his hands on the benches on the other side of the aisle. “Good. That's better. So, let us review the new situation. I have your brother in a prison cell charged with the murder of Billy Kitchen. The case against him is strong and I have no doubt that his destiny is to hang. And then there is Polly's son, Michael. He has already admitted to helping Arthur burn down the Marquis pub. He was a tough nut to crack, that boy, but crack he did. So I have your brother facing the noose, I have your cousin facing five years for arson. And I have your entire organization in disarray in Birmingham and in London.”

“What do you want?” Tommy asks, facing the policeman again.

“What do I want?!” Campbell looks at the gangster like he is not making sense at all. “I don't understand.”

“I have already agreed to do your fucking killing for you. Now, what is it you want from me?” Tommy’s voice is low and he punctuates every word. Campbell stands up from the bench to get closer to the gangster and the younger man just observes him, trying to conceal his anger.

“There you go, you see. An agreement is not the same thing as an assurance, now, is it? You see, I found I wasn't sleeping so well. It wasn't just the smell and the noise in that room, no. It was the nagging doubt. The knowledge… The knowledge that Tommy Shelby is not afraid to die. Therefore, the threat to your own life might not be enough to make it certain that you will obey me on the given day. I needed also the power of life and death over your family. And that I now have. Your brother, your cousin and your sister. I have known her address in Primrose Hill since the day she moved i, she is safe only as long as I want her to be. I have been ahead of you every step of the way. And, as my father used to say, to make sure your dog obeys you, you have to show it the stick once in a while.” He holds his cane up, as to illustrate his words, before walking out of the church, the echoes of the walking stick filling the air as Tommy stands there, weighing down his options.

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

“Tommy, Arthur is in solitary confinement. Michael is in the remand wing of…” Lizzie follows him when he enters the office, but he is only partially registering what she is saying to him, the sound of the telephone ringing on the background.

“I already know. Get out, shut the doors.” She does as he says and Tommy sits on his desk, hands resting on the wood, eyes observing the telephone before he picks it up.

“Tommy? It's me. Tommy, can you hear me?” It’s impossible to not recognize the voice and the gangster is not sure about the way it makes him feel.

“Yes, Grace.”

“I think you called. I haven't slept.” He takes a deep breath before answering.

“Grace, this is not a good time.”

“I can call you back.” There is a hint of desperation on her voice, like she is clinging to something, a thread of hope perhaps. He should expect that, between her proposal before she left to America and the letters she kept sending him even when he didn’t answer none of them, even after she married, but part of him still felt a little surprised by her tone.

“No, it's fine. It's all right.”

“Can we meet?” The words had barely left his lips when she talks again and something occurs to Tommy - maybe this is the chance he has to balance things between him and Campbell and find out once and for all how he feels about her.

“Yes. We'll meet.”

“When?”

“Grace, there are some things I have to do first.”

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

Tommy entered the Shelby house to find Polly sitting at the table in the room connected to the betting shop, smocking. He walked past her, entering the other room where John, Esme and Finn where waiting. Stooding near the table, hands behind his back, he prepared himself to survey the damage containment. “John?”

“The coppers have lifted ten of our men in Camden Town, the rest of them are on the run.”

“Tom, they've taken Michael.” It was Finn, clearly worried about his cousin’s situation.

“Business first.”Was all Tommy said to his brother to silence the boy.

“They took Michael last night...” Polly got up from her seat, clearly exasperated by the fact that her son was now in jail. All she wanted was a way to get him out, business be damned.

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up…” Tommy didn’t let her finish, raising his voice and looking at her as he said.

“Polly, business first!” She leaned into the doorframe, restless, her nephew ignored that, turning to look at his brother. “John?”

“They took all our whisky, so no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “The Black Country boys think it was Arthur that killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen. I want my son out of prison. Now.” Polly came forward talking directly at Thomas.

“Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs...”

“This meeting should just be family.” The older woman interrupts Esme, not boring herself to look at the girl.

“I can help.” John’s wife protests but Polly directs her answer to Tommy again.

“It's family only, she is not blood, Tommy!”

“Let her speak.” The gangster says, trying to maintain his voice low.

“Or is this a business? Have you forgotten…”

“Enough!” He screams looking at his aunt. “Enough, Polly.” The man turns to his sister-in-law. “Esme?”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaims, not believing that Tommy is really considering the offer.

“They can give us men!” Esme argues.

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It... It... is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.” Tommy just ignores his aunt outburst, knowing that she is not thinking rationally because of Michael’s situation.

“Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.” He takes a brief look at Polly, who stares at him, shaking her head before taking a step closer to him.

“If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family. For good.” She marches up to Finn, taking the young boy by the arm, all the while Tommy observes her, quiet. “This life is bad. This life is all bad.”

“Aunt Pol, what are you doing?” The youngest Shelby protests as she forces him out of the room with her.

“Shut up and walk.” There’s just him, John and Esme on the betting shop now. They listen to the door opening and then closing. Tommy leans his hands into fists on the table, before sitting down on the chair in front of John.

“Thomas? Should I go and speak to Queen Mary Lee at the Black Patch?” Esme takes a step closer to her husband, watching as Thomas rests his elbows on the table, hands intertwined together in front of his mouth.

“Yes.”

“She can give us soldiers for a few nights.” She says and he just murmurs.

“Mm, good.” Fingers moving restlessly as he looks down onto the table, mind racing to think of solutions.

“John, go and bring up the car.” The other Shelby looks up at his wife, that just nods her head towards the door. He gets up from the chair, giving a last glance at his brother who is still silent, then he picks up his hat and leaves. Esme walks to the door to certifie herself that he really left before coming back to the table and inclining herself on the table to get closer to her brother-in-law. “Imagine riding away, Thomas. Living the real life, you know? Your Gypsy half is the stronger. You just want to ride away.” Thomas looks up at her, just observing quietly as she talks. “France is the new place for us, they say. Lot of metal lying around still. Guns and trucks and spent shells and things. Then you go south. Saintes-Maries, where the Black Madonna is. My brothers go sometimes for the fair. It's like a home for us. They still let you get lost there.” He lowers his hands to the table and leans closer to her, speaking low and calmly.

“I've been to France, Esme. So has John. Now get your coat and go with your husband.” The gangster just observes her for a moment, before taking her face between the fingers of his left hand. “And if you ever talk about getting lost again, I will cut you from this family.” After he releases her, Esme looks around, as to make a point, before speaking.

“What family?” And then she leaves and Thomas can’t help to think that she is not all wrong.

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

Daphne doesn’t see Alfie before going to the bakery that morning, what she finds a little strange, because they usually go to work together, but she brushes it off as overthinking. Yet, things get weirder as she approaches the bakery and all the man go dead silent as she passes then. She ignores it too, like she ignores the little remnants of blood on the floor and the fact that Ollie seems more nervous than usual around her. That is until she has to get out of her office to ask something to Ollie and overhears a conversation between two of their employees - a conversation about the prison of one of the gypsy brothers.

She stops dead on her tracks, the two men see her and look at each other like they’ve just seem a ghost, until Ollie shoo them away, looking back at her with a very frightened expression. It’s then that it all comes weighing down on her - Alfie’s extrange behavior for all these past months, the fact that he wanted her out of the house last night, his cold demeanor towards her since the wedding.

Ollie tries to intercept her when she starts walking again but there is no stopping her as she storms through the corridor to Alfie’s office. Her breath is uneven and she has a hard time recognizing what exactly is the feeling bubbling under her skin - is it anger? Or maybe it’s betrayal but she can figure it out why she would feel that way. When she opens the door, unceremoniously, Alfie immediately looks up from whatever it is he is working on. He nods at Ollie, who is standing right behind her, and the younger man leaves, closing the door.

“You already know then?” There was no reason to pretend he didn’t know why she was there, he had been preparing himself for that all morning. Alfie reclines himself back into his chair, letting his glasses fall to his chest as he looks at her. She doesn’t sit on her usual chair, right in front of him, doesn’t think she can, not in the state she is in and that is his first sign of what is about to come.

“That’s what you’ve been hiding from me all along?” If he didn’t knew her so well, Alfie would think that she wasn’t unsettled by the news. Standing there, in the middle of his office, speaking to him without raising her voice, her speech did not falter, like this was just a normal conversation about the business and not the questioning that he knew it was, Daphne showed few signs of the raging battle roaring inside of her. She had always been good at concealing her feelings even when she was a kid, having been raised to be a proper lady, not letting others know that underneath all that pretense lived a real woman with real feelings.

“I knew you would vouch against it if I told ya.”

“Then you just decided that it was better to do it behind my back?” It was already bad enough to think the exact same thing on his head, hearing her said it out loud only made things ten times worse and he kinda hated himself for that.

“Look, love, I’ve told ya we were going to use them to win the war and then get rid of the fucking gypsies, haven’t I?” Rolling her eyes she asked him.

“Sabini is not a problem anymore then, is he?” Alfie almost swore under his breath - she was too damn perceptive, he had been fooling her for far more time than he thought was possible. The Jew took a deep breath before stating.

“We’ve made an agreement.” She laughs, humourless, hands resting on her waist before she traps him in her gaze.

“An agreement.” A pause. “Let me guess, he promised you that our bookies could go to Epsom this year in exchange of your help to get rid of the Blinders?” Daphne waits for him to say something, which he doesn’t, and she caughts herself massaging her temples as she paces around the room. “And like all the other times, he will deceive you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” She snaps at his tone, walking to his desk, standing between the two chairs and propping her hands, closed into fists, on the wood.

“We have a written deal.” He tries to hold his ground but stops as he hears her laugh again, mockingly.

“A written deal, of course, how haven’t I thought of this before, huh?” Her hazel eyes search for his blue ones. “Tell me, Alfie, this is what you call winning a war?”

“What do you know about winning wars, Daphne?” He regrets the words the moment they left his mouth, specially when she flinches away from him, taking a step back from the desk.

“I know plenty about war, Alfred, you know that better than anyone.”

“Daph…” The Jew almost gets up from his seat but she stops him before he could finish the movement.

“Don’t.” Turning her back to him, Daphne closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, trying to keep her cool. “What did you do?”

“We’ve taken all of the clubs back and Arthur is in prison.” She looked at him from over her shoulder.

“For what?”

“The murder of Billy Kitchen.”

“That was your plan all along?” She hears him exhale loudly before his voice is heard.

“Not in detail, but yeah, it was the plan since the beginning, aye.”

“And you didn’t told me before… why?”

“Because you’ve turned soft, Daphne.” When she turned to face him his expression had changed, it’s like he was telling her something that is obvious. “I knew that from the moment that that fucking gypsy put foot on this bakery.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t accept the deal with Sabinni because of Thomas.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk, hands intertwined, venon in his voice.

“Tommy has nothing to do with me thinking that this deal is bad for us.” She snaps back at him and this time he is the one who laughs.

“He has everything to do with it, love, because you love him.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. Daphne shakes her head in denial.

“You are out of your damn mind.”

“I am out of my mind?” He stands up, leaning onto his fists, his tone of voice higher than before. “Are you even hearing yourself and how much of a hypocrite you are being, huh? How’s he any different than all the ones we betrayed before him, huh? I will tell you the difference, the difference is that you’ve let yourself fall in love with him, that’s the fucking difference, innit?”

“You know me well enough to know that I would never let my feelings get in the way of the business.”

“You don’t deny it then? You do love him, don’t you?” She doesn’t answer him and that only seems to add fuel to the fire. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were already sneaking around with him, huh? Opening your…”

“STOP!” Her scream seems to get him out of his trance and the hurt in her eyes is like a knife to his heart. “Don’t say something that you will regret later. Don’t make me hate you, Alfie, because I don’t know if I can come back from that.” They just stare at each other for a long moment before she speaks again. “Why do you keep me around, Alfie? Why do you keep me around if you truly believe that I will betray you at the first opportunity I have?”

“Because I made a fucking promise…” His tone is lower and solemn but she doesn’t let him finish.

“Fuck you and your promises. It’s not me you have to worry about, Alfred, is yourself.” His expression softens and Alfie almost takes a step back at the sheer force of her words. “You push everyone around you away, always have something up your sleeve to try and gain something from everybody. You want to call me a hypocrite, fine, maybe I am, but so are you. Because you stand there, looking at me and talking about fucking promises when you’ve been lying to me for months in a row and even after all these years that I’ve been nothing but loyal to you, you have the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me that you’re afraid I would betray you for somebody else.”

“Daph…” He walks around the table to get closer to her but she steps back, not letting him talk or get closer to her.

“If I really wanted to do that you really think I would choose Thomas? That I would have waited all these years listening from everyone how crazy I was to still be around you, hearing people calling me your mistress and God knows what else behind my back. If I really wanted to betray you, Alfie, I would have done it a hell lot sooner, because that’s all that Sabini has been waiting.”

Silence fills the room and neither of them is really sure how many time has passed when she speaks again.

“I’m going home. I’ll be there tomorrow morning, don’t wait for me.” He reaches for her as she turns to leave, catching her wrist on his hand, forcing her to face him.

“Are you leaving?” There is a certain level of desperation on his voice and there is no mistaking the worry in his blue eyes, she almost caves in.

“Yes, I’m leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Daphne takes a deep breath, holding his gaze.

“To a hotel. I need some time alone. I will still come to work, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s not about the fucking work I’m worried about, innit?” There is silence again and she recognizes the conflict on his face. “And if I don’t let you go?”

“I’m not asking for your permission.” She breaks away from his hold and walks to the door while Alfie waits for her to look back. She doesn’t.

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

“Where've you been?” Ada asks her aunt as she enters the room and sees her taking a bath.

“I went to the Spotted Dog in Digbeth for a glass or two of rum.” The younger woman observes her aunt and frowns, asking.

“Was it one glass or two?”

“It was three.” Polly looks around. “Where's the baby?”

“Sleeping.” Ada reclines herself into the couch. “More like five.” The older woman groans lightly, lifting her arms from the water to rest it on the rim of the tub ad look at her niece.

“It was more like six.” She reaches for the cigarette, resting on the ashtray on the table near her. “Did you meet the maid?”

“I talked politics with her, she got bored and went to bed.” They both chuckle at Ada’s statement. “I phoned James. He talked to the lawyer anyway. He said he'd take Arthur's case for free, so we don't need Tommy.” The older woman exhales loudly, clearly disturbed by the topic. “Pol? We'll get Michael free, as well, I promise.”

“There's no need, they're letting him out in the morning.” Her expression changes to something somber and Ada frowns, worried. “Do you still talk to Daphne?” The question sounds strange to the young woman, but she answers anyway.

“Yes.”

“Then tell her that the best thing she can do is stay away from your brother. She is a nice girl, has certainly suffered enough. There is no future for her besides a man like him.”

“Pol, why…”

“If the baby wants anything at night, ring the bell by the bed. She gets paid to work twenty four hours, that girl, she's getting lazy. Well, take advantage if you're nice.” Ada observes as her aunt leans into the tub and concludes that the best think she can do is leave her, so that’s what she does.

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

Daphne doesn't sleep that night. She tosses and turns on the bed, restless, thinking about her fight with Alfie and how the Shelby’s might be dealing with all the trouble, until she decides that there is no reason to stay laying down when no sleep will come to her. So she gets up and sits on one of the armchairs by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey on her hands, eyes focused on the fire burning there.

She recalls the words exchanged between her and Alfie that morning and starts to question herself about his accusation. Had her judgment of the situation been tainted by her feelings towards Tommy? Had she really let herself be blinded by love, like Polly had waned her? She, who always had done her best to conceal her feelings from everybody and leave her life dealing with things as rationally as she could?

The burning of the alcohol down her throat brings her back to the present and she hears the banging on the door. Daphne tries to ignore it, thinking that it might be Alfie or one of his man. She doesn’t have the strength or the patience to deal with neither now. Then she hears talking and all of a sudden the doors opens and Harriet comes in - no makeup, loose hair and wearing a simple plain gray dress, a worried expression on her face.

“What happened?” The courtesan closes the door behind her, approaching the other woman, taking a sit on the vacant armchair. Daphne turns her face to look through the windows, noticing that is already dawning, she haven’t noticed how many time she had been there.

Harriet looks around before fixing her gaze on her friend again - the bed is disheveled but just one look at Daphne says enough for her to know that the woman hadn't had a minute of sleep in the past few hours. Her legs are pulled up on the chair, closer to her chest, hair messily tied in, an empty glass of whiskey in her hands.

“Ollie called me in the middle of the afternoon saying that Alfie was beyond himself and that you had left.” There is still no response, the only reaction she gets from Daphne is that she rests her head on the back of the armchair, body relaxing into the armchair as her gaze falls onto the fire. “He keeps saying that he fucked up and that he doesn’t deserves your trust but he refused to tell me the meaning of it.”

“We fought.” Harriet is almost giving up, preparing herself to leave, when Daphne’s voice resounds on the room.

“That much I could tell.” Hazel eyes focus on her and the courtesan sighs. “What about?”

“Thomas.” Daphne pauses, inhales deeply before moving to serve herself another glass of whiskey. “Well, I thought it was about the business, but you can say that the main reason was him.” Harriet says nothing, waiting, because she knows that pressing her right now is not the best of choices. “Did you knew?”

“Knew what?”

“About his plans to serve the Shelby’s to Sabini on a silver plate.” They look at each other for a moment before Harriet answers.

“No. I had my suspicions that he would do something about them soon but he never told me anything.” Daphne only hums in response, taking a sip of her drink. “What did he do?” The other woman sneers.

“He made a deal with Sabini so our bookies could work Epsom this year. They have raided all the clubs taken by the Blinders and Tommy’s older brother is in jail, framed by the murder of one of their men.”

“Oh my…”

“That’s what he had been hiding from me all these months.” Daphne downs the rest of the whiskey, observing as she turns the glass in her hand. “I told him that Sabini was going to betray him like he has done so many times before and he told me that I was being a hypocrite questioning his actions because we have done that before.” She takes a deep breath, looking at the fire again. “And that I was only doing that because I loved Tommy.”

“What the fuck! Alfie is out of his damn mind?!” Harriet gets up from her sit, takes the glass from Daphne's hands and pours whiskey on it, taking it in one gulp.

“He is not.” The courtesan turns to face her friend, who is still sprawled out on the armchair.

“What…”

“He may have said some things that he shouldn’t, but he is not out of his mind.” Daphne’s expression is devoid of emotion and she is calmer than she had been on the previous day. “The thing is... The thing is he is right, Harriet. Alfie is right. The only difference between Thomas and all of the other people we betrayed is that I love him.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

Text

Call and Fold

BTS

Jimin/Reader

Genre: Drabble, Mafia AU, Stranger-Lovers, Poor Description of Poker

Words: 2k

Mafia AU/ Stranger-Lovers/ “Are you sure this is legal?”

Requested by: @authorofdanger

XXX

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You screeched as you found yourself at a poker table at the casino you were dragged to by your family. You were apparently supposed to have a bonding night of some family fun (slightly boring) games, but that somehow turned to booze and gambling at the nearest boat.

Being shoved into a stool by your older brother, he tipped his beer back at the neck of the bottle and downed enough to make his breath stick. He belched as you wanted to die as he slides into a booth on your left.

You cradled your head into your palm as you dreaded the rest of the night. Your brother wasn’t exactly known for holding his liquor and the last thing you wanted to do was gamble your money away and babysit a 28-year-old man who is sending himself to an early grave.

God only knows where your parents ran off too. They may be middle-aged, but with the number of risque jokes your father still pulled on your mother, you wouldn't be surprised if they rented a hotel room in this damn place.

To your right, you heard someone chuckle. Looking up, you saw a man to your right. Sitting in the stool next to you, a stack of chips and a hand of cards the dealer had dealt earlier. He seemed to have been at this particular table for a while now. He looked comfortable in his stool as he had one hand over his mouth.

You could see his cheeks pushing up as he side-eyed you. You looked back at your brother then to him and watched him roll his eyes in a teasing manner. You groaned as you dug your elbows into the poker tables edge and buried your face into your hands.

“Kill me now,” you pleaded. The action at the table started with your brother as a new player. You quickly hopped out of your stool and offered it to some gentlemen who wanted in on the action. You didn’t know the first thing about poker.

Though, as the game progressed and hands were dealt and calls were made, you could tell your brother was loosing royally.

You stood at his side behind him, in your dress your mother forced you into as you nursed on a glass of scotch. You sighed as you debated on taking a shot as your brother was running himself into the ground.

The man from before was still at the table.

“Bet. Straight flush.” A woman at the end of the table cheered for her fiance as he tutted his nose in the air.

“Call.” The man who snickered at you before spoke up. He laid his cards down flat in sequence. “Royal,” he said as the man from before was now groaning and moaning as his fiance pat sympathetically at his shoulder.

Chips were slid to the mystery winning man and a new hand was dealt. Watching your brother play and fail as well as watching the man play and succeed, you were getting the basics of the game around you.

You finally convinced your brother to go and sit at the bar for a while. To either sober up or get further drunk, you didn’t care. Just to get him away from the table. He did so, but only after you lied to him about some lady waving him over. You signed as he finally staggered off.

“Hey,” someone called you. You saw Mr. Money-man as he stood from his stool and ticked his head. “Sit. Play a game.” You looked at him and then to the stool than to the table and dealer who shuffled and tossed cards around as art to shuffle them.

“Oh, I don’t play.”

Money-man clucked his tongue. “I’ll walk you through it.” You sighed, more loosened up thanks to your alcohol and slid into the stool he once occupied. He stood behind you. “I figure watching is learning and you’ve been watching quite a while.”

You rolled your eyes as a few others joined the table.

“Don’t remind me. He’s a pain in the ass and I refuse to be related to anyone who is drunk from less than 2 shots.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “You’re not hitting on me? Are you?”

“Would it be a problem if I was?�� He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Looking him over now, he was very well dressed. A blazer of ruby red and a pair of wrinkle-free black slacks with a white collar shirt. His shoes were shining and spotless. Chain necklace around his neck and his hair parted on his forehead, he tutted at you as he noticed your wandering eyes. “Impressed?” He asked.

“Would it be a problem if I was?” You mimicked his words.

“She’s got a sense of humor.”

“She also has a name.” You turned back to the table.

“I see your training this game Mr. Park?” The dealer said to the man behind you. You watched as Mr. Park moved and pushed a few of his chips forward from the last game he played as you took over for him this one.

“Giving it a go. Always nice to try new things. A student to carry my clean streak in poker isn’t a bad way to go.” He then looked down at you as he peered over your shoulder standing at your side. “And what is my student’s name?”

“Y/n.”

Mr. Park offered you his hand. “Jimin. A pleasure to meet you.” The cards were dealt and as you looked at them, you watched as Jimin told you to rearrange your hand, or told you to fold for a round. He instructed you when to bet, or when to call and raise to someone’s cards. Eventually, you were floating alright on your own as Jimin stood and watched you.

By the time you had your fill of the game, Jimin was walking away with most of the money he earned from his games as you managed to keep it pretty even from the times you lost or won.

It was midnight now and as you looked around for your brother, your phone rang. You had long since left Jimin and poker behind as you found a quiet place to answer your phone.

Your mother had run into your brother as they both went home and your father was still gambling for a while yet before he took a taxi back home. You sighed, now allow and stranded as some casino and you wanted more than ever to just leave. Maybe you should rent a room for the night and leave tomorrow?

As you looked down at your phone screen in your tucked away corner from the gambling life, an envelope was presented to you. Following the hand and arm of the person offering it, you saw Jimin standing there. one hand in his pocket as the other placed that same envelope on your phone’s screen. It was hefty, for something so small.

“Jimin? What is this?”

“Your winnings.”

“My what?” Jimin chuckled as he motioned for you to open it up. Inside were bills of cash. You nearly dropped the cash and your phone.

“What is this?!” You repeat.

“The cash you won off your games. You played for it, so it’s only fair you take it.” You shook your head. Tempting as the cash was, you couldn’t take it. After all, you only played off of what Jimin had to start with from his games. It was rightfully his. “Alright, compromise.” Jimin took the offered cash back as he tucked it into a pocket inside his blazer. “We both use this cash if you let me take you out next Wednesday.”

He pulled his phone out as he opened it up, the add contact screen already up and ready for all your info. You looked at him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as he plucked your phone from you before it locked and gave you his. So, your boring night of gambling turned into a new very attractive acquaintance and a future date.

-3 Months Later-

“Is this even legal?” You asked as you watched Jimin beat a padlock with a metal pipe until it busted open. He dropped the pipe as he dusted his hands off. You’ve long since learned of his profession in the mafia. Seeing how you met him in a casino so classy and decked up as well as his luck in the game, you should’ve guessed. Of course, his plays were always cheated and altered in his favor.

He looked at you, licking his lips as he flicked his brows up. Cocky bastard. “is anything I do legal?” He asked as he pushed open the now open metal door. “Ladies first.”

“What a gentleman.”

You didn’t really know what was going on, or why he insisted you come with him on his specific job, but here you were. A few of his guys were sitting put in the van he took here as Jimin seemed oddly calm. He wasn’t on edge or tense like he would be on enemy territory.

“Where are we?”

“Or, we’re at a friend’s warehouse. He wouldn’t give me his key and I need something in here.”

“So, the solution was to bust his lock?”

“Bastard had it coming.”

“You are such a child,” you chided as Jimin told you to sit and wait for him as he wandered around the room. Searching through boxes and trunks and on shelves, he finally found whatever it was he was looking for and trotted back to you. He placed a small box in your hands. “This is?”

“Open it and find out.”

Doing so, a small pin sat inside it. Resting on a velvet square of purple, you picked up the pin from the box. It was smooth as it ran a perfect circle and sat in the middle of your hand, your palm swallowing it up if you closed your fist. It was black as it had a metal outline and a golden puma designed on it.

“Isn’t this your insignia?” He nodded. Yes, Jimin’s portion of the mafia he controlled was known as Puma. So, anything related to him and his affairs were always left with this silhouette of the wild cat.

“I asked someone to make that for you. But, Seokjin got it and put it in here for me to find like a jerk.”

“Make it for- wait a second. Are you putting me under your protection or something?”

“I am.”

You whistled in awe. “That’s a big gesture for someone you met at a casino 3 months ago.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care. You know I care about you, you just won’t agree to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh please. You’ve asked like what- 3 times?”

“5 times thank you very much!” You rolled your eyes at him as you held the pin over your shirt.

“Should I put it on? Or maybe keep it on my bag. Or keep it in my wallet?” Jimin grabbed it and pinned it onto the strap of your bag that was low enough so when you held your bag when you walked, your hand would hide it. It would be visible enough to be seen by anyone too close to you.

“That’s a good place,” Jimin said. “So, you’ll go out with me now?”

“Of course. You should’ve asked me sooner,” you teased. Jimin just pinched your sides as he laughed at you and your unchanged sense of humor.

“PARK JIMIN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY LOCK?!” Jimin watched in horror as Seokjin came barreling into his warehouse with his busted lock in his hand. He looked at you as you just shrugged your shoulder.

“This one is on you buddy. You’re the one who broke it.”

“I’m breaking up with you,” he deadpanned.

“You love me.” You still ended up being lectured along with Jimin by the elder man even though you did nothing wrong. Apparently letting your boyfriend break locks and do nothing to stop him is an offense of the Great Kim Seokjin.

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lfthinkerwrites · 5 years ago

Text

The Flight of Icarus

Title: Tales from Gotham Academy: Field Trip

Rating: T for more mayhem

Summary: Another ride, another misadventure. Mockridge has a come to Jesus moment with a 'business partner.'

Meanwhile, in the office of Daniel Mockridge

"They did what to the boat ride!?"

Cleo Droukas, Mockridge's assistant for the past three years, watched as her boss' face lost its smug smile and turned pale. She tried not to let on how much it amused her. "One of the teachers rammed his boat against another boat, which in turn rammed into a third boat, causing a collision against the embankment. None of the students are injured-"

"Forget the students!" Mockridge shouted. "What about the boats!?"

Cleo frowned. "The third boat was tipped over, but otherwise undamaged. The first and second boats, however, sustained damage during the collisions. They'll need to be repaired."

"And just how much is that gonna cost me!?" Mockridge yelled, running a hand through his hair. "This park's already in the red! Between operating costs and the settlements from that food poisoning case last year, I'm in the hole for $5 million! Which I could have handled, no problem, if Riddle of the Minotaur 2 hadn't bombed!" Mockridge moved his hand from his hair onto his desk, smearing paperwork with the greasy hair product. "I don't get it. Riddle of the Minotaur put Competitron on the map. It broke sales records. How did the second game do so badly? We marketed the shit out of it!"

Perhaps you shouldn't have fired and blacklisted the original game's creator, Cleo wanted to say. Instead, she waited until Mockridge had finished his whining before she continued. "The teacher who rammed the boats, Mr. Basil Karlo, has been removed from the park premises."

"They called the cops on the son of a bitch?"

"They did, but he was taken away in an ambulance. The other teachers administered their own 'justice' on him."

Mockridge's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "I always knew Nashton was a fruitcake, but what the Hell is wrong with these people?"

Cleo had heard the rumors about how badly the students and teachers behaved at the Raging Rapids Water Park the previous year. She'd tried to warn Mockridge, but he'd been too set on sticking it to Edward Nashton to listen. Now they had to all deal with the consequences. "Principal Gordon is currently speaking with park security, while the teachers and students are continuing their trip."

Mockridge looked slightly amazed. "After the boat ride, they want to stay in the park?"

Cleo shrugged. "Apparently, this isn't anywhere near the worst thing that's ever happened to them on a school trip." Which, if true, was the most disturbing thing she'd heard all day.

An oily smile returned to Mockridge's face. "We may just be able to salvage this day yet! What about Wayne? Is he still happy?"

It took everything Cleo had not to smirk. "He was in the boat that was overturned."

Mockridge's face paled again. "God damn it! He's already pissed at me for that crack I made about his girlfriend! I was hoping to convince him to invest in Competitron!"

That was looking about as likely Mockridge himself admitting that Edward Nashton was the reason Competitron had been as viable as it was. Before she could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. "Yes?" Cleo called.

Mockride's secretary poked his head in. "Sir? Mr. Sionis is on Line One."

All the remaining color drained from Mockridge's face. "Oh shit. Tell him I'm in a meeting!"

The secretary shuffled. "He's being very insistent sir. He threatened to staple my lips shut if I didn't put him on the phone with you."

Mockridge sank in his chair. "Oh, Christ...fine. Put him through." As soon as the door shut, Mockridge pushed a button on his phone. After how badly Riddle of the Minotaur 2 had sold, Mockridge had needed to seek external funding to keep Competitron's losses manageable. Unfortunately, Mockridge had about as much sense in seeking out loans as he was in keeping talent, and he'd wound up in the debt of Roman Sionis, industrial magnate and rumored mobster. "Roman!" Mockridge said jovially. "I was just about to call you! How have you been?"

"Sure you were," Sionis spoke, his voice rumbling over the speakerphone. Oh good. He was pissed. "I checked my account this morning and lo and behold, I didn't see your monthly contribution. Where's my money, Mockridge?"

Cleo watched Mockridge gulp and somehow kept the satisfaction off her face. "Ah well...It's going to be a bit late this month, Roman. I had other obligations to take care of." Said other obligations included child support, gambling debts, payouts to several young ladies under his employ, and a new yacht.

Cleo could just make out the sound of a sharp intake of breath. Then Sionis spoke again. "Perhaps my last request was too mired in subtlety. I want my money, or you're dead. When I say dead, I mean dead. Beaten, broken, YOUR HEAD MOUNTED ON MY WALL KIND OF DEAD!!!"

Mockridge began to sweat, babble excuses and Cleo took that as her cue to leave. She shut the door behind her and finally let out the small laugh she'd been holding in. Then her thoughts turned to the Gotham Academy group. Hopefully, the boat ride would be the extent of their shenanigans for the day.

"We're going to the Library of Alexandria and that's final!"

"Like Hell, we are, Nashton! The kids want rides, we're going on rides!"

"Right, Harv, because the last time we were on a ride, it worked out so well! We're going to a place with books!"

"You can go to a place with books if you want Nashton, I'll take the kids to the rides."

"You're not going anywhere with my little girl without me!"

Jonathan and Jervis looked on at their friend and co-worker's argument and then gave each other a long-suffering look. After seeing Karlo off, Gordon, Wayne, Neil, Miguel, and Victor had been quick to split off into different sections of the park, leaving the four of them in the main hub to argue over which way to go. "We could just leave them, you know," Jonathan whispered to Jervis.

Jervis shook his head. "No we can't, March Hare. You know as well as I do that Harvey will kill Dormouse if left unsupervised."

Jonathan looked back to Harvey and Edward. Harvey's hands were balled up into fists and his face was turning magenta. "Harv looks ready to strangle him now." The students themselves watched the argument with the kind of indifference that came from witnessing this happen several times. Not even Ellen and Duela seemed that concerned.

"Which is why we need to intervene," Jervis insisted. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Now see here chaps-"

"If you don't get out of my face in the next two seconds Nashton, I'll make sure that Ellen stays your only child!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes, then stepped in to help Jervis corral the two men. "Knock it off the both of you," he scolded. "You're actin' worse than the actual children." Harvey and Edward turned to glare at Jonathan, then back at each other. Edward looked ready to say something smart when Jonathan interrupted. "Harv, don't you have that coin? Just flip on it."

Harvey smirked and pulled said coin out of his pocket. What he and Jonathan knew but Edward didn't, was that the coin was double-sided. "Alright, Nashton. Heads we go to the rides, tails we go to the Library of Alexandria. Agreed?"

Edward crossed his arms. "Fine. Flip it." Harvey did so and caught it with his left hand, flipping it over onto his right palm. When Edward saw the result, he scowled. "Flip it again!"

"For God's sake!" Jonathan shouted. "Edward, stop acting like a damn toddler and come on already!"

Edward sneered and opened his mouth, only for Ellen to interrupt. "I've got Penny in my contacts," she said in a sing-song tone. "And I'm not afraid to call her..." Edward paled, then sighed.

"Fine. Fine. We'll go rot our brains on the rides. But when disaster strikes, I will be the first to say I told you so!"

"Welcome to the Flight of Icarus! Please observe all posted rules. You must be at least 64 inches tall to ride, follow instructions at all times, one adult must be with a group of kids..."

While the ride attendant droned on, Edward, Jonathan, Jervis, and Harvey took in the ride with a growing sense of horror. The Flight of Icarus was a modified swing ride. Only, instead of seats hanging down from the top of the carousel, there were harnesses. The riders would strap themselves in, lie on their stomachs, and put large canvass wings on their arms. The idea was to simulate flight, like the mythological character of Icarus. It looked even more dangerous than the boat ride. When the ride attendant finished his spiel, the four men looked at each other. "So," Jonathan drawled. "Who's going first?"

"Not me," Edward said immediately. "I'm a father."

"So am I," Harvey said gruffly. "And Duela, there is no way in Hell you're riding that thing."

"I don't want to," Duela quickly agreed. "That thing looks like a death trap."

"I kind of want to go on it," Ellen added. Then her face fell. "But I'm too short to ride."

"Good," Edward said.

"I'm too short as well," Jervis said. "So I suppose that leaves you, March Hare."

Jonathan sighed. "Well, I have no fear of death. Might as well." He and the six kids who actually wanted to go on the ride stepped through the gate, and let themselves be strapped in. When Jonathan's wings were placed on him, he heard Edward chuckle from the other side of the gate.

"You're living up to your name now, Jonathan Crane," he smirked. "When you're airborne you'll look positively majestic."

"I will hurt you," Jonathan said crossly. Once the last child was strapped in, the ride attendant stepped back to the control panel and powered the ride on. The carousel's tower rose slowly as the chains began to move and spin the riders around. At first, it was slow, but it quickly picked up speed. The teachers and the students on the ground were colorful blurs to Jonathan as the ride spun him around, faster and faster. Luckily, in addition to feeling no fear, he felt no nausea. Frankly, it was almost fun.

Unfortunately, while the designers of the ride had accounted for height and maximum weight, no one ever thought to consider a minimum weight for the ride. Jonathan was so light and thin in build that he wasn't securely harnessed. On the thirteenth rotation of the carousel, he slipped out of his harness and was vaulted through the air. "Jesus Chriiiiist!" he screamed as he flew 50 feet above the ground.

"March Hare!" Jervis screeched, running after his friend. Edward and Harvey followed in close pursuit, trailed by Ellen, Duela, and a few other kids. The rest stayed put to film the scene, of course.

"Jon!" Edward shouted as Jonathan began to dip down. "Flap your arms! Try to fly!" Jonathan did so, and remarkably, managed to pick himself up. "We should be close to the main hub," Edward mused as the group followed Jonathan, who was now gliding at a steady pace. "Jon! When we get to the plaza, you should be able to glide into the fountain!"

"The fountain!?" Jonathan shouted. "After the boat ride!?"

"Well it's that or you can impale yourself on a tree!"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Harvey muttered. "Mockridge has one Hell of a lawsuit coming his way."

The small group followed Jonathan into the plaza, where they caught the attention of not only other parkgoers, who were pointing and gasping at the sight of Jonathan gliding through the air. Unfortunately, they also attracted the attention of Maxie Zeus, who took Jonathan's appearance very differently. "A fury!" he bellowed. "Back, fury! Back to the depths of Tartarus with you!" He gripped onto the base of his lightning bolt, which, while not a real lightning bolt, served very well as a javelin. He threw the bolt at Jonathan and his aim was true, the bolt puncturing one of the canvass wings.

"Son of a biiiiiiitch!" Jonathan screamed as he plummeted to Earth, disappearing in the tree line that surrounded the main entrance to the park.

Jervis collapsed onto his knees. "March Hare! Jonathan! No!" He began to wail and sob.

"Dad?" Duela asked, for once almost shaken. "Is Mr. Crane dead?"

"I'm sure he's not," Harvey comforted her. He gave Edward a short nod. "You and Tetch better go look for Crane. I'll take care of the kids."

Edward didn't look happy at the prospect of leaving his daughter, but he liked the idea of her tagging along to find Jonathan's possible corpse even less. "Alright. Ellen, behave yourself. I'll be back with Uncle Jon in a few minutes." He stepped forward and began dragging a still weeping Jervis towards the tree line. "Come on, Jervis. We have a March Hare to find."

In an hour, he would regret letting his daughter out of his sight.

#tales from gotham academy #high school teacher au #fly jonny fly

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mks-magical-menagerie · 6 years ago

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Black stared at himself in the mirror, a seemingly permanent look of worry etched into his skull.

His shirt was hiked up to his collarbone, and there was ecto covering his bones. Female ecto.

He hated the sight of it, he always had. He was much more confident with his abs, his pecs, his cock. But his female ecto was so...soft. Pudgy. No matter how much he worked out it never seemed to affect the mulberry tummy, and though you always said you loved them...he was still insecure about his teensy breasts. At least Boss had a body to match his small breasts! To make things worse, his own counterpart was thrice his size and still growing!

But it wasn't really his breasts making him nervous today. Ever since that guest brought up kids, it had all flooded back to the surface, the things he was trying to ignore.

Sweet purple ecto that never dismissed. A growing appetite, nausea, strange cravings for things he almost never wants to eat normally…

...and the soft buzz of magic that wasn't his or yours, tingling beneath his fingertips as he softly pressed his chubby tummy.

He knew it had been a gamble, asking you to breed him last heat. He'd begged and pleaded for you to take your male form and take him properly, and you'd obliged--then he'd even taken it one step further by begging to touch souls.

He didn't care about what the others thought, they were all more or less in the same boat in this menagerie of yours. They were in this together, and he knew some would tease when they found out and some would be excited.

He was only worried about you.

He loved you. He loved you so much, and he wanted children with you, certainly...but you always seemed hesitant to talk about having them, almost avoidant of the subject. There's a great pain behind the subject, and so he…

...he’d kept it quiet. Saw Green about his options and decided he'd just tell you later. And later. And later.

Gods, he's almost to his second trimester now. He'll start showing soon, and then what? Laugh it off like it had slipped his mind? Pretend to be surprised?

“Black?” There came a small knock on the bathroom door and he flustered, pulling his shirt down as your voice traveled through the door.

He opened it without a word, smiling weakly at you. He knew he was acting weird, but he can't help it. Because of all the questions floating around...it's now or never.

“Black, there you are,” you sighed, leaning down the small height difference to kiss him affectionately on the cheek. An urgent neediness begged him to grab you and hold you there, but he resisted stiffly. “Is, uhm...we have some things to talk about.”

You had figured it out, of course. Such a smart spirit.

“YES. WE DO.” He took a deep breath, glancing at the door of his bedroom as if hoping someone would interrupt and save him this conversation.

It never came.

“I...I AM WITH CHILD,” he explained, pulling his shirt up to show the ecto beneath. “IT WON’T DISMISS. I HAVE TRIED. AND THERE'S...THERE'S A LITTLE SOUL IN THERE THAT ISN'T MINE.”

As much as he hated his feminine body, he never felt more beautiful than when you looked upon it. Your eyes lit up every time, and he could see you mapping and memorizing everything he perceived to be a flaw as if it were gold.

“Oh, Black,” you whispered, hands tracing over the pudge of his tummy, feeling the magic wash over you. You didn't say anything else yet, just waited, and felt.

He fidgeted a little. He never fidgets.

“SO I'LL JUST...I WILL RETURN HOME WHEN THEY ARE BORN AND RAISE THEM IN MY WORLD, NO PROBLEMS. THEY'RE ON THE SURFACE NOW, SO IT SHOULD BE AN ALRIGHT PLA--WHAT, WHAT, WHAT'S THAT LOOK FOR?”

Your head had snapped up as soon as he had said 'return home' and you were giving him the most heart-wrenching, horrified, disbelieving look. It made him upset just to see that look on your face, to feel your despair through the bond. He could feel himself tearing up.

“You're leaving me?” You asked, sorrow in every syllable. “You...you're leaving to where I can't follow? And taking the baby? You're leaving?”

The rest was a mumbled rapid-fire of Japanese, codeswitching and dropping the charms that translated for him as obvious distress overcame you, and he was quick to grab you by the arms, pulling you both down by the bed and trying to calm you, shush you--

“NO, WAIT, STOP, DARLING, JUST CALM DOWN, JUST BREATHE, LOVE,” he muttered, and slowly, slowly, he felt the familiar magic of your translation charm fanning over him. “I...I CAN VISIT, NO PROBLEM, I JUST KNOW YOU DIDN'T WANT THE BABY BUT I WON'T GET RID OF--”

“Didn't want it?” You interrupted with a shocked huff. Your amethyst eyes flashed, ears and tails flicking with displeasure. “How...how dare you! You tell me something amazing has happened and then, you threaten to take it away? And then you tell me you are doing it because I didn't want it?!”

“You always avoided the subject,” he interjected, purposefully lowering his voice now that you were arguing to prevent undue stress. His hands were still firmly on your shoulders, steadying you. “I just assumed you didn't want any, I…”

There was silence, and you reached up to cup his cheeks, wiping away the tears forming in his sockets from his emotional state.

“I want nothing more,” you cooed softly. “I always have. But I...the last time it was within my grasp, the last time I was bonded and expecting and happy…”

You bit your lip, tears forming in your eyes, now, too.

“...they put you here,” he finished for you, the thought startlingly clear through the bond. “They banished you and took your unborn and took your husband and told you...you could never have it.”

You nodded, leaning your forehead to his skull. He wrapped his arms around you and took a shaky breath. He had been so scared, so worried that you didn't want this, but you, in turn...were only worried that history would repeat itself.

That they would take him away. They would take all of them away.

“Nothing,” he promised. “Nothing, no power in this world of ours, or any of the next, or outside of them. Nothing will ever take me away from you. Nothing will ever lay a finger on our child, I swear to you.”

“You can't promise that,” you sobbed, hands finding his re-clothed stomach and laying gently there, as if feeling the very heartbeat. “And neither can I. But Black...I can promise that if anything tried, I would die before I let it take you.”

“Please don't, I'd rather not raise this baby alone,” he chuckled, and you giggled in spite of your tears. “I'm so sorry for not telling you...I should have known better.”

“No, I get it. I was never forthwith with my past, I can't blame you for thinking like you did.”

He sighed and pulled you to his chest, settling into the many pillows on his bed that have become necessary for comfortable sleeping. You moved along happily, letting him be the bigger cuddler in favor of pressing your face and torso to his stomach, reveling in the magic humming beneath the surface. You smiled.

“...They sound so beautiful already.”

#black is expecting!#babymamadrama #mkmm #drabble #misunderstandings #sf!sans #sf!sans/reader #pregnancy

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loviswriting · 5 years ago

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Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Bizarre Beach! Torn Between Scylla and Charybdis!

JJBA part 4 fan fic. Chapter 2: Sand in the water, Stand in the water!

Summary: During his stay in Morioh, Jotaro needs to come up with a subject for his doctoral thesis in marine biology! Strange happenings in the waters of Morioh beach piques Jotaros interest, making him investigate strange sightings of a mermaid, followed by injured surfers! In hopes of finding a subject for his thesis he teams up with Kishibe Rohan and Joseph Joestar to solve the mysterious happenings! Is it the work of an actual mermaid or is there a Stand user lurking around the corner?!

Number of chapters: 9

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Total word count for all chapters: 12 749.

Chapter 2 word count: 1715.

Authors note: this is my first fan fic, I tried my best and hope you will enjoy it! You may also read it on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937995/chapters/49778429

The next day Jotaro went back to the beach, which today hosted a festival, with lots of people, vendors and activities. None of it was of interest to Jotaro, he was there with a purpose and hired a small motorboat to go out into the waters. He drove around for two hours in the beautiful blue water, without noticing anything out of the ordinary, only seeing occasional surfers and swimmers closer to the beach. He did, however, notice how much trash that was floating around in the water in several places; plastic bags, old newspapers, cans and other things. Despicable, no respect for nature, he thought and sighed. If he weren’t able to find another subject for his thesis, he might just give up and write his thesis about the effects of trash floating around in the oceans, a subject many already written… his thesis would wind up being what its subject would be: trash. Just as he was on his way back to the beach, his face was hit with what he was currently thinking about; trash. A wrapping from some fast food had flown right into his face. He wiped it away, disgusted with some ketchup now on his cheek, and failed to catch it as it flew away in the wind, fuck, Jotaro thought with a sting of guilt for second-hand littering. Suddenly, his boat rocked a bit and waves were starting to splash wildly around him and he started to hear distant screams from the beach, which he was fairly close to by now. He saw people getting up from the water and running away from the beach. Jotaro heard a sudden roar behind him and quickly turned his head around and saw a huge wave of water quickly coming towards the beach seemingly out of nowhere. The edge of the wave was to swallow him in seconds, forcing him to act hastily. “Star Platinum!” Jotaro shouted and his fierce blue and purple Stand manifested, as he accelerated the boat and steered it to move horizontally along the wave, “ZA WARUDO!” A shockwave burst out from Star Platinum as time around them froze, but the boat Jotaro drove still sped on to ride alongside the wave’s front, leaving an empty trench in the water behind the boat. Star Platinum rose its fists as they approached the wave, “ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA!!” the Stand shouted and delivered punches into both the wave and the water in front of it, until Jotaro finally made it to the other end of the wave, reaching his limit of stopping time. “Resume time!” Jotaro said and the gears of time started to turn once again, making the big wave burst from Star Platinums punches, whilst also being stopped by a smaller opposing wave created from the punches directed at the water in front of the wave. The empty trench from the boat sucked it all up, creating a broad geyser turning everything into a shower before the water stilled once again. The panic on the beach started to settle down and Jotaro slowed down as he went into the beach to return the boat. That wave was not natural, he thought, looking out over the ocean, which had gone from calm to calamity in seconds. Maybe he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that this was the work of a Stand, and suddenly he realized... Stand users are drawn to other Stand users. And this one seemed to be in the beaches water; the beach that Jotaro frequently visited. “Shit,” Jotaro sweated and thought, I’M the Stand user that is being drawn to the other Stand user!

Jotaro decided to go back to the hotel and regroup his facts and impressions. He knew the following: - People had been attacked out of nowhere with no provocation given quite severe injuries. - Attacked people had seen, what seemed to be, a mermaid. - He himself had been attacked by a huge wave that came out of nowhere without warning, that probably was the attack of a Stand user.

He sat at the table in his hotel room, with a cup of tea, pondering these thoughts. How could they be puzzled together? Logic dictated that the mermaid could not be a Stand, as normal humans could not have been able to see it, had that been the case. So the mermaid could instead potentially be a Stand user – if it was a mermaid or just someone mistaken for a mermaid. He knew he once had battled a water Stand and held his breath for a long time, so it was possible there were more Stand users with that lung capacity. But why would a Stand user attack normal civilians in the water? Did it want to lure out Jotaro and his friends? He had to find out the reason and to do that he had to find the user. He hoped it was not related to Kira and that it could be settled peacefully in the case that the user was an actual mermaid. He was not fond of the thought of beating up what could be a great subject for his thesis. Jotaro picked up the phone next to him and dialled a number, “Hey. It’s Jotaro. … No, JOTARO. JOJO. … Meet me at the beach tomorrow at 12am. … No, the BEACH. The B-E-A-C-H. … Good,” he hung up the phone and sighed, “Yare yare…” this was a gamble but he had to try it.

And so the next day came, and Jotaro made his way to the beach. He looked out over the setting to observe the surroundings. The festival was still on for another day, but today there were a lot of lifeguards around and warning signs to not get too far out in the water. Also, the coast guard had a boat patrolling. Yesterday’s sudden violent wave had made the town cautious and the number of people out enjoying themselves was slightly fewer than yesterday. Good, thought Jotaro, in the events of encountering the possible Stand again he would prefer there to be fewer people in the risk of being injured. “Aah, there you are, Jotaro-kun!” an old familiar voice called behind him, Jotaro turned around and saw his company had finally arrived, his old grandpa Joseph Joestar, but he was not the only one approaching them. “Good morning, Jotaro-san,” Kishibe Rohan spoke, walking together with Joseph. “Rohan-san?” Jotaro said surprised. “I ran into Rohan-kun at the bus stop! He was also heading for the beach!” Joseph answered before Rohan could say anything. “Yes, and I helped you get on the right bus... I thought that the recent activities happening here at the beach might be a good inspiration for my stories!” Rohan said and stroked a pose, sketch block in hand. “I see,” Jotaro said, not very surprised over the mangakas motive for being here but also not very interested either, “Listen up, old man. I believe there is a Stand user in the water. I need your help tracking it down.” “A sand user in the water, Iggy's alive?! OH MY GOOOD!” Joseph burst out in shock, putting his hands to his cheek. “Joseph, please, Iggy's been dead for years… I said a Stand user in the water, not sand user…” “Huuuuhhh?? Sand in the water??” Joseph said confused, “is there a problem with that?” “No, a STAND in the water,” Jotaro said louder. “Hahaha! Silly boy, you’re not standing in the water, you’re standing at the beach,” Joseph turned to Rohan, “he is standing at the beach, right? My eyesight has gotten worse lately, I wish it was as good as my hearing…” he took off his glasses and wiped them off at his jacket. “Uhh…” Rohan had a lack of words. “STAND USER. WATER. FIND THEM,” Jotaro said irritated, as Star Platinum manifested behind him, pointing towards the water. “There is a Stand user in the water?! Why didn’t you say so! We have to find them!” Joseph eagerly said, starting to walk towards the beach. “Joseph, wait!” Jotaro walked up to him, “I’ll take a boat out into the water and lure the Stand out, then you will use Hermit Purple to track it down and write a map in the sand and then we will come back and see its location on the map. I suspect it is a short-range power Stand with the ability to manipulate water. Therefore, I believe it is the safest choice that you stay at the beach.” Joseph looked up at him and nodded with a serious expression on his face, “Got it.” Rohan cleared his throat, “Ahem, excuse me, but may I be of assistance? I cannot see a better opportunity to observe these happenings than to be on the boat as well,” he politely asked, then changed his tone, “and if there really is a Stand user…” Jotaro nodded at him. Looking back at how he barely made it yesterday, he could need some extra help, although his motives were to only find the Stand user and not fight it – but if it were hostile he might have no other choice than to face off with it. “Let’s get the boat,” Jotaro said to Rohan, nodding towards the boat shack close by. “Oh, before you go,” Joseph said, “Could you spare me a paper and some Ink, Rohan-kun?” “Sure,” Rohan answered and pulled out a spare bottle of ink, handing it over to Joseph with a couple of papers, “Why?” Joseph smirked, “Just in case, you never know what may come in handy! Or I might get bored and feel like making a drawing!” he then let out a laugh which turned into a cough, “God I’m starting to get too old for this…” Rohan and Jotaro made their way to the boat shack, “Are you sure he is fit for this…?” Rohan asked worried, feeling like Joseph wasn’t the most reliable, although he knew Joseph at least had paid in time for a drawing commission he ha made recently. Jotaro smiled faintly, “No worries, the old man may not have a body as ripped and sweet as back in the days, but when it comes to getting things done, he never lets you down. Let’s go!”

CHAPTER 2 END.

Thanks for reading!

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #writeblr #writing #jjba part 4 #jjba diu #diamond is unbreakable #fan fic #jjba fan fic #jotaro

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years ago

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526-528: "Undersea Volcanic Eruption! Drifting to the Fish-Man Island!", "Landing at the Fish-Man Island! Beautiful Mermaids!" and "Excitement Blow-out! Sanji's Life Under Threat!"

HOORAY! :D:D:D

Will this be one of those arcs that’s filled with sympathetic villains? The kind of characters who... well, you get where they’re coming from because they have a cast-iron reason for their villainy and you feel conflicted about cheering for the heroes? Or will it be more complicated than that?

I hope I like this arc. Ever since Arlong Park, since I learned about the Sun Pirates from Hachi and the racism Fishmen experience I’ve been hoping Oda might dig deeper into the theme. It’s early days yet, but from what I’ve seen in this episode, I’m quietly confident he’ll deliver.

Cthulhu Is... Friendly?

Must admit the Flying Dutchman action was a bit of a let-down. I thought Captain Vander Decken would be the next villain (or at least the henchman of the next villain). It was built up so well. The creepy “Dead men tell no tales” speech, Brook confirming he was the Real Deal, that the legend told of how the captain lost his mind, killed his crew and cursed the gods (who got their revenge by cursing him to drift forever).

I thought that might make a good plot line (that was before Hammond appeared and the Real Plot kicked in).

The Kraken coming back and sucker punching the Sea Bonze was so worth it. I laughed like a drain and could not believe I was cheering a Kraken like it was Hell in a Cell. Top it all off, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji came paddling back in a single bubble. And Luffy had made the Kraken his pet and named it Surume! Only Luffy can get separated from his crew and return with a pet Kraken. And laugh about the fact that he almost died.

The volcanic eruption action scene was fun. The Flying Dutchman crew and the Kraken would not mess with nature. The water glowed an ominous red and before Luffy gave any orders, Surume the Kraken was already checking out. Nami made the call for them to leap into the deep trench ahead to avoid the pyroclastic flow (is that even possible underwater? I have no idea.)

Usopp got to show off some of his skills by shooting a net-like plant weapon that stopped the debris from the eruption from smashing Sunny to pieces. (Could be good in combat for subduing bad guys.) I liked how Luffy was a good captain and praised Usopp and his cute Kraken pet for doing a good job. There’s that leadership shining through.

This was just before a stray rock bonked Surume on the head and the Strawhats woke up... ten thousand meters under the sea?

But... how? I thought.

It was bright. There was natural light and vivid colours. How?

Because it was Fishman Island! :D

Cannot lie. I was excited to finally see it. I wonder how it was for manga readers then to see that place brought to life after so long. I mean, how many chapters was it since it was first mentioned in Arlong Park until now when it was animated. I mean, it was huge! And there were entire massive trees inside the bubble. I still have no idea where the natural light was coming from, but pffft, did I care? It was FISHMAN ISLAND! :D

Then the Border Patrol Arrived?

At least, that’s who I thought they were at first.

And they brought Plot, which, let’s face it, is always good.

Three shady-looking Fishmen rode up on massive Sea Kings. They were so tough, they spoke to Surume the Kraken like it was a disobedient pet. Or... more accurately, as if it was a race traitor. “Why are you obeying such fools as humans, Kraken?” Surume fled the scene (obviously scared of these guys).

They recognised the Straw Hats too. I love how Luffy said, “Who are you? How do you know about us?” Um, Luffy... everyone knows about you now. xD

But these guys went way back. Much further than Alabasta, Enies Lobby, Impel Down or Marineford.

“You are the ones who foiled the Arlong Pirates’ plan. You stood up for Hachi and knocked out a hateful Celestial Dragon, just like Fisher Tiger, the hero of Fishman Island.”

They claimed they were the New Fishman Pirates and demanded the Strawhats enlist under their banner or be sunk.

Hammod did most of the talking but two others tagged along (Hyouzo and Kasagon).

Nami and Franky knew Luffy would say no (and possibly put them in danger because they couldn’t fight back). They took a huge gamble and spent the last of Sunny’s air crashing through Fishman Island’s protective bubbles.

The dramatic tension when the coating shrank, pinning all the Strawhats to the deck was great. But it really ramped up when the first bubble ripped off the coating and the second one turned out to be full of water. I didn’t expect that twist.

Was that the closest the Strawhats have been yet to almost dying?

Camie to the Rescue!

Luckily, they have a friend who was sort of expecting them. Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Sanji woke up at none other than Camie’s place! (The others were separated. Franky, Nami and Robin are together. I have no idea where Brook is and Zoro is on his own.)

Turns out she works at a Mermaid Cafe on the sea floor of Mermaid Cove. The dorms are more affordable on the sea floor, as opposed to the ones higher up with more natural light. I liked that Oda has imagined an entire class system here. Mermaid Cove seems an okay place. Pappagu the starfish is in the fanciest district: Fishverly Hills (lol!) and is a famous designer. Hachi lives in Fishman District, which Camie said was a ‘rough place’. Luffy still thinks Pappagu is Camie’s pet. I don’t think Luffy completely gets how Fishman Island works yet, but Camie was nice and didn’t say anything. Hammond also hinted at another Fishman Island faction: Neptune’s Army, who were introduced later but I don’t know which side they’re on yet, so they seem like a neutral third party so far. 10/10 world building from Oda there.

Camie showed them around. They took a cute turtle elevator up to the “surface”, where there were clouds, blue sky, trees and rainbows. Luffy mentioned reuniting with Jimbei because “when Ace died two years ago, I didn’t lose heart thanks to him” (yes, Luffy. I’m glad you realise just how much Jimbei did for you!)

But Jimbei was not on the island. Camie seemed to hint the War in Marineford caused a bit of trouble in Fishman Island. She didn’t go into it, damn it.

Then, the royal family’s Fish Boat swam into view, heading straight for them, carrying the Neptune Princes (Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi and Sanboshi). The mermaids hid the Straw Hats, in case they were arrested for illegally entering Fishman Island. One mermaid made the mistake of holding Sanji... let’s just say a little close to her chest.

And Lots of Beautiful Mermaids

You know what, I didn’t want to say but over the past couple of episodes, Sanji’s weakness had been annoying me. Not really badly. Just that the joke was getting a bit thin because it’d been played so many times for laughs.

Now I know why.

Does Oda do nothing without a purpose?

He had to set up all the blood loss stuff because blood transfusions are a central tenet in the hatred a lot of Fishmen have over humans.

When Sanji had his Vesuvius Moment, Dr Chopper bravely came to the rescue. Just as the Princes seemed about to take the Strawhats (though they didn’t want to arrest them. Still not sure what their deal is), Chopper placed himself in harm’s way and shouted, “Stop! I’m a Doctor! Can anyone donate S RH negative blood? If Fishman blood is the same, would anyone be willing to donate?”

Chopper unwittingly referenced an Old, Highly Politicised Grudge.

Fisher Tiger: The Hero of Fishman Island

Hammond, who had been lurking, waiting for an opportune moment to catch the Strawhats, couldn’t stay quiet at that point.

“No one on this island would give blood to lowly humans,” he scoffed. “If anyone did, they’d risk punishment from the Dark Night, from human haters. The Old Law in the kingdom states that donating blood to humans is prohibited.”

When the Strawhats protested, Hammond fired back with some Context.

“You humans set that rule first! You people have a long history of fearing us. Didn’t want your blood mixed up with ours. That’s how the hero, Fisher Tiger, died. He risked his own life to free slaves of all races. But after a bloody war, he died. He could have lived if he had a transfusion. The heartless humans refused to give their blood to him.”

I was gobsmacked by that. Honestly. What a great twist, in terms of both plot and morality! How are the Strawhats going to fight against years of racism, abuse, toxic politics and the veneration of a martyr-like figure who means so much to the people of Fishman Island?

This is going to be a wild ride.

Usopp dismissed the old law. He begged someone, anyone, to help Sanji. Hammod tried to take Luffy by force but severely underestimated how much stronger he’d become (that Haki, honestly... it is so badass).

Camie hijacked the Royal Fish Boat (the royals here seem pretty laid back because if that was real life, you’d be in your local Impel Down faster than you can say, “But I need a blood transfusion!”)

And it seems something is rotten in the state of Fishman Island. Not only are the Strawhats the first human visitors in a while, the Princes were unable to deliver a message to Jimbei.

I wonder if it’s anything to do with this shady character?

This is the guy who wants to see Luffy. The one Hammond calls “Boss.” Hordy Jones, I think his name was? And here we have a shady face, not entirely revealed, sharp teeth and a good voice actor? This has happened before with Moria and Crocodile. Could this be the villain? Is this Hordy Jones, or is he higher up the chain?

I hope so. Was blue-balled with the Flying Dutchman stuff. Don’t want it happening again, haha.

Also, who or what is Noah? Was confused as to whether it was a location or a person.

*insert Rocky Theme tune*

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