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jerepars · 3 years

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My QOTS 5x09 live reactions:

Oscar is in the “previously on”. Oscar x Jeresa team up?

SO MUCH Kote in the “previously on”. Whyyyyyy? We already had to sit through their episodes once, isn’t that enough?

James taking off that ski mask was somehow really hot

Is it bad if I want to skip through this suburbia Kote stuff and just get to the Jeresa team up lol

“Like the devil himself he lives in the shadows” uhhhhh that was a little…YA fiction-esque. Lol who wrote that line and are they serious.

If there were two very attractive people sitting across from me, dressed like yin and yang, promising me protection like that…I think I’d be very confused LOL

Konstantin Federov? Is Kostya like, a Russian hockey player? Did he play in Detroit with the Russian Five? I am howling.

an INSTRUMENT TO DEFEND OUR DEMOCRACY lol lol lol

again Devon leaves the room without being a blatantly obvious Jeresa shipper. Boooooooo.

suburbia suburbia why can’t we do away with ya?

what happened to don’t come out until I tell you to?! Do you understand the consequences of death or not?

oh good job just show the neighbors you guys have a fucking arsenal in your kitchen that’s not gonna be suspicious at all

“I am a soldado, I will never put my guard down” really REALLY we all know that’s not true this is how you guys got banished to Little Rock in the first place

“it was a big raccoon” Raccoons are adorable they look like little bandits leave them alone

Jeresa are sitting ~very close~!!!!

“in the DR” As in, in the Dominican Republic? Do people really say that? Sounds like I’m watching Big Brother and they’re talking about the Diary Room LOL

Wait what Teresa is doing coke right as James leaves the room? What if he forgot something and comes back??? Does he know? Has this just been accepted by him? This is never going to be addressed, is it?

Ooh, theory time. Is the coke...not coke? Is it something else and Teresa has been building up a tolerance to it so she can appear dead?

“I know you want things to go back to normal” BACK to normal? When were things normal? Why does half the episode have to be spent on these two?

“I don’t want to live like this anymore” You…you...WHAT? Why did you join a drug cartel? You BEGGED back in with them. Proved yourself. Worked too hard, isn’t that what you said? What did you think it was going to be like?

Do we, the audience, have to suffer through the garage sale, too?

HOW LONG IS THIS SCENE WHY ARE WE STILL IN SUBURBIA

Yeah snoop through your neighbor’s mail when the whole neighborhood is around THAT’S NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL

oh it’s his little girl’s team now we have to suffer through Pote’s redemption for his misogynist sexist comments from earlier in the season

Yo, why are we only meeting Domingo now? I like this guy. He’s fun. Plus he’s got cool piercings.

aaaaand he’s dead.

Oh, okay, not dead. But injured.

YO I LIKE DOMINGO

CHICHO HOW COULD YOU CALL POTE THIS IS NOT HOW I RAISED YOU

omg is KA going to tell Pote to go back to Teresa where he’s happy because she doesn’t want his spirit to die? If so, I think I might want to die.

I don’t need another tender Kote moment JFC MAKE IT STOP

BRICKS!!!! KISS TIME!!!!

“You wouldn’t let me do it, so why should I let you?” Dead. Dead. DEAAAADDDDD. 😭😭😭

I love you. SAME. (I still wish T had said it first)

So no conversation. Just straight to the sex? Okay. I guess we’ll roll with it.

The way he pauses to tuck her hair away from her face and looks at her all starry-eyed when she’s on top of him. Dead. Dead. Dead dead dead.

And then they SMILE. Can you be more dead than dead? I think that’s where I’m at. 👻

Sidenote: I don’t think we’ve ever seen this much of J’s tattoos up close. This is glorious. Lol yeah because there’s sex happening and I’m looking at the details of the tattoos hahaha

The hand on the thigh to end it before the camera pans and then fade to black. That’s great. I will accept it.

She’s touching his arm in the morning after scene. There is SUNLIGHT. This is the best lit Jeresa scene of this show’s existence, lol. Holy shit.

When does she tell him she loves him? This is obviously setting us up for a goodbye.

LOLOLOLOL James is talking about weapons and making sure she’s well equipped and she’s giving him heart eyes instead sooo is she about to say it?

SHE SAID IT!!!!!!!!!

Jeresa making out. Jeresa getting it on. Jeresa kissing after a love confession. In one episode. ❤️ 🥰 🎊 💞 💓 😘 🎇 🔥 Bask in the glory. Savor it. Let’s all enjoy this and rewatch and reblog gifs etc etc etc because it’s all we’re ever going to get. 🎁

“She’s not going in without us.” “I’ll go.” OoOoOoOo this is all part of the plan isn’t it?

But when did you have time to plan this when you spent all night making out and having sex. You must have been spent. Did you multitask in bed? 😂

Scared Puppy James :( :( :(

Wait. WAIT. This is very plot holey. Kostya didn’t know anything about Teresa’s business? He’s apparently the biggest bad-ass there is and he didn’t even vet her? He just let Oksana handle it? WHATTTTTTT

The tequila isn’t poisoned. She put something on the shot glass, probably? That’s why they had Chicho talk about how Oksana was killed at the beginning. Right?

So Kostya has been elusive all season. Fucked everything up. And he dies as soon as he meets her? WHAT. Just like that. This is so deflating.

Uhhhh, listen, I get it, Teresa is obviously gonna make it out of here. But why have Kostya’s guys not shot her in the head yet? This is very unrealistic. They wouldn’t hesitate. She would be on the ground in a second.

WHAT. NO. WHY IS POTE HERE. GO AWAY. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STEP UP, CHICHO.

I wish Pote had died. A final sacrifice for his family. That would have been his redemption. And I’m not apologizing for anything I just said. Full offense. Not sorry.

“You had enough on your plate.” Are you KIDDING ME? Yo WHO THE FUCK DOES CHICHO THINK HE IS? Making decisions for the boss? That’s not…that wouldn’t happen, helpful or not. Teresa would kill HIM. Know your place. Wow how nice of the writers to screw Chicho up.

“I’m only legit until Devon decides I’m not” So…okay. Jeresa have definitely talked about Devon and made the sniper plan now, right? If she’s saying this?

“Can you shut down operations in New Orleans and meet us when you’re done?” “Of course.” That’s the goodbye, isn’t it? We’re still on track for the sniper plan?

“When everything’s settled I’ll send for you.” Uh. Maybe KA is safer in Little Rock. But you’re gonna leave her out in the wind for an indefinite amount of time? OKAY.

“He may not be as nice” LOL

Omg this is like the most continuous dialogue James has had all season and it’s wasted on DEVON

Personally not a fan of this very predictable James-was-still-under-Devon’s-wing-the-whole-time because I think it’s lazy writing. Very lazy. BUT I bet in James’ mind, he’s for sure been pretending and this whole time whenever he’s been sitting boo-boo faced in the corner moping, he’s been planning out how to tell Teresa and going over the plan of how she’s going to “die” and they’re going to disappear. So he could tell her and they could execute it perfectly when the right time presented itself. Right? And that’s all going to be shoved into like the last few minutes of the finale, isn’t it?

Ah okay so sniper James is going to shoot Teresa through the window to make Devon think he followed orders. They WERE multitasking in bed. 😂😂

I knew it. I fucking knew it. It’s exactly the ending to this episode we all expected.

Finale preview: soooooooo Teresa is barely in it because she’s “dead” and we have to watch Pote carry out her “wishes” for most of it until it’s safe for her to come alive again? COME ON.

#qots spoilers #qots 5x09 #qots #queen of the south #teresa mendoza #james valdez #jeresa #pote galvez #kelly anne van awken #kote #boaz jimenez #devon finch #chicho nolastname #i have opinions they are unpopular

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tricksters-captain · 5 years

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TMR: The Death Cure/Gally imagine - You Made Me A Promise (Part 2)

AN: I’m so glad that the first part got such a positive response!! Thank you for reading!!

Summary: You and Gally met as rebels against W.C.K.D and now that his old maze friends have returned, you’ll be damned if he thinks he’s leaving you out now.

(PART ONE HERE)

In This part: You’re in this together. Always. If Gally goes into the lions den then so will you.

Pairing(s): Gally x reader

Word count: 3,902

Warnings: Death cure spoilers. Strong Language. Violence. Fluff.

“So, that’s the plan?” You followed Gally as he strode down the alley.

“It’s the only one we got.” Gally stated. “Everyone has a weakness. Let’s just hope hers is still Thomas.”

“Alright, well, when do we leave?” Your question made Gally pause, pinching the bridge of his nose before facing you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked with his hand on his hip.

“What do you mean am I sure?” You furrowed your eyebrows at the boy. “Gally, I’m going no matter what.”

“(Y/n), we aren’t talking about some mission into the city.” Gally tried to explain but you weren’t about to just sit back and listen to the ‘dangers’ of a trip like this.

“And you don’t think I know that? You don’t think I know what going into WCKD actually means? The consequences? The possibility of not coming back?” You couldn’t help but raise your voice slightly. “Gally, I was here long before you were but there’s no way in hell I’m living here after you. We go together and if something happens then at least I am with you. How many times do I have to explain that?”

“Maybe you don’t think about what I want.” Gally defended himself. “I don’t want to see you get hurt and I’d rather not see you die either.”

You didn't know what to say. Gally knew that you’d come with or without a fight so there wasn’t anything else to say.

Gally sighed and turned to walk away.

“Be ready by sundown.” He told you.

You removed Teresa’s hood when they sat her down. Gally and Thomas needed to be in front of her when she saw where she was.

“Gally?” Teresa stared at the boy with a mixture of confusion and surprise. It was the same look the boys had on their faces when they saw Gally alive.

“Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where's Minho?” Gally didn’t bother with the niceties.

“You guys don't seriously think––” Teresa started before Gally slammed his chair down in front of her, cutting her short.

“Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me.” Gally demanded, “He's not gonna help you. Now, we know you have Minho in the building. Where?” Gally continued. His dominance and sternness made you smirk.

“He's with the others in holding. Sublevel three.” Teresa quickly realised there was no point in not giving answers if she wanted to leave.

“How many others?” Newt asked.

“Twenty-eight.″ Teresa informed him. Gally looked back at Brenda for a moment.

“I can make that work.” She shrugged.

“No. No, you guys don't understand. The whole level's restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID.” Teresa only told you what you already knew.

“That's why you're gonna come with us.” Thomas spoke up.

“Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her.” Gally climbed off his chair and made his way over to the scalpel on the table. “Right? Not all of her. We just need her finger.”

“Gally, back off.” Thomas warned Gally he wasn’t on board with the threats.

“What, are you squeamish? I guarantee you she's done a lot worse to Minho.” Gally pointed the scalpel at the girl as he spoke.

“That's not the plan. Back off.” Thomas stood, taking the knife from Gally’s grip.

“It won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up the––”

“––We know. We're tagged. Property of WCKD. You're gonna help us with that, too.” Thomas interrupted Teresa before taking the scalpel over to her.

Teresa went quiet for a moment.

“You might as well help them, sweetheart. You kinda owe it to ‘em.” You finally pitched in, fiddling with your small handgun as you spoke.

“Teresa, please.” Thomas pleaded.

“Alright.” She nodded.

Newt wanted to go first then Gally then Fry. Thomas went last.

You weren’t property of WCKD. You didn’t need her help.

There are some days you still question how you managed to escape WCKD especially when they went out searching for immune kids.

“She enjoyed that.” Gally grumbled as the bleeding finally stopped.

“You probably right.” Fry agreed.

“It’s not bad, it’ll heal quickly.” You sat behind Gally and ran your thumb over the incision softly. “You okay?” You whispered, you knew that all this was bringing back serious memories of the maze and what happened to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Gally dismissed your worry as Newt brought over some disguises.

“Here, see if these fit.” Newt handed Gally some trousers and a holster.

“And what about me? I don’t think I can pull off the body type of a male guard. I haven't seen a single female security officer in all the time we’ve been observing the building. Not under Janson’s command.” You reminded them that you weren’t just gonna sit around the parking lot and wait.

“We’re gonna see how tight security is on a new doctor. See if we can sneak you around with Teresa.” Gally informed you as he tightened his holster. “New faces walk into that building everyday. It should work if you act calm and look the part.”

“I can do that.” You stated.

“I know.” Gally winked at you as he stood and moved across the room.

The way you got into the building was with Gally. You knew you couldn’t pass as a guard for the entire time you were inside the building but if Gally could get you into the garage then you were in the building.

You met up with Teresa, Thomas and Newt before Teresa unlocked the entry door from the garage to the staircase.

You immediately stripped off your heavy gear and threw on a lab coat and clipboard. You pushed glasses up your nose just in case anyone did recognise you from previous riots and fights and threw your hair up into a ponytail.

You stashed the uniform in a crook by the stairs as Gally worked on getting inside the mainframe of the building so that your team back at base could tamper with the surveillance.

“Alright. Let’s go!” Gally closed the box on the wall before you all headed towards the holding cells.

Teresa let you in and you stepped back to let the boys with their guns sort out the guards inside.

You went around with Newt and Thomas and unlocked each pod but there was no sign of Minho.

Gally broke away to start to break into the vault.

“Guys, this might take some time.” Gally spoke up as he observed the lock.

“Shit... He’s not here.” Thomas searched every cell to see if he could possibly be in one of the beds but he wasn’t. “Where is he?” He confronted Teresa.

“I’ll have to check his status on the computer.” Teresa told him honestly.

You started to move all the bodies with the kids into one of the holding cells whilst Teresa looked and Gally worked on the vault. You didn’t need those fuckers waking up and adding complications to an already complicated situation.

“Somebody’s moved him up to the medical wing.” Teresa said as she found his profile. “Thomas, that’s on the other side of the building.”

“Okay. Take me to him, right now.” Thomas moved away from the screen and towards the door.

“I’m coming with you.” Newt picked up his gun.

“Newt, no, you’re not. You have to stay here and wait with Gally for the serum.”

“You can’t do this on your own. Minho comes first remember.” Newt and Thomas argued.

“Just go. I’ll wait here with Gally, make sure we actually get the serum. You get the boy.” You told the boys as you picked up one of the guards guns.

“Alright.” Thomas sighed, “Alright.”

“We’ll meet you out back.” Gally added. Thomas nodded, giving in.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Thomas ushered Teresa towards the door.

“Hey Greenie!” Gally called back to Thomas before he left. “Good luck.”

“Alright, everyone settle down. We’re gonna be here a while. Anyone know how to use a gun?” You asked the kids around you. A couple of the boys and a girl put their hands up and you gave them the remaining guns. “Keep an eye out for any security. Don't shoot until I shoot.” You gave them their orders before standing back and watching the surveillance on the large desk computer.

“I’m in.” Gally called out as the lock broke off.

“Great! Be quick.” You told him as he went in and filled a bag with the serum.

“Okay. We need to get out of here.” Gally did as he was told and swiftly did the job. “Stay close to us. Stick together.” He told the kids as he jumped to your side. “You. Guard this with your life.” He picked on one of the kids to look after the bag as you would both need to have your hands free to deal with any one who caught you leaving.

“Okay?” You asked Gally if he was ready and he nodded.

“Let’s go!” He shouted as he took off in a sprint. Both of you stayed at the front as you lead the pack to the parking garage.

You were fortunate enough to not meet any trouble on the way down.

“Brenda, where are you? We’re here!” Gally used the walkie-talkie to contact her and just as you rounded the corner, a speeding bus came to a halt.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Brenda opened the window and called everyone in.

You and Gally ushered the group into the bus.

“Where’s Thomas?” Brenda asked.

“I assumed he was with you.” Gally admitted. Brenda was quick to leap off the bus at that news. “Wait, wait. Stay here with the kids.” Gally stopped her. “Wait here, just... I’ll find him.”

You went to follow him but Gally stopped you.

“No way. Stay here.” He commanded.

“Gally––.” You went to argue but Gally wasn’t having any of it.

“Stay here, (Y/n).”

You went to open your mouth but before anything could come out he spoke again. “(Y/n), please just trust me. I have to do this alone. It’s less dangerous for both of us.”

You growled in frustration before pulling his head down by the collar of his jacket and kissing him.

“If you don’t make it back—“ You warned him but he already knew the threat.

“—you’ll kick my ass, yeah I know.” He pecked you again before running off. You turned back to Brenda and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere.” She assured you.

After Gally ran off, all you could do was wait.

“You hear that? Straight ahead.” You suddenly noticed a black SUV pull in.

“Everyone down!” Brenda looked back at the kids, hushing them as they ducked.

You tried to stay quiet as you watched the guards walk towards the bus with curiosity and caution.

“I can’t leave without him.” You whispered to Brenda.

“You can’t stay here, you’ll die. He doesn’t want you dead.” Brenda argued.

You looked around in desperation before deciding what to do next.

“I’ll distract them. It’ll give you a head start.”

“What?” Brenda watched you raise to your feet and leave the bus.

“Hands where I can see them!” The soldiers commanded. You did what they wanted and made your way slowly towards them.

“Kill her.” One of them muttered to the other as they took hold of you.

“She could be immune. We aren’t allowed to kill the immune.” The soldier retorted to his partner.

“Then take her upstairs!” Just as the other soldier sent out the order, Brenda put her foot on the gas and sped off.

“Dammit!” The soldiers cursed. You broke free from the solder holding you and kicked at his shins. He hissed and let one hand drop from his gun, giving you the opportunity to snatch it from him before running as the rest focused on the bus.

You didn’t managed get out unscathed. One of the soldiers must’ve just managed to get a shot at you before you went out to the streets. His shot got you in the back.

You crept round the edge of the building to analyse how bad your wound was.

The bullet was lodged in stopping most of the bleeding. You were thankful that it hadn’t passed right through you and you were thankful it was just your shoulder.

You removed the lab coat you were wearing and ripped off one of the arms, tying it around your wound to stop any bleeding.

You knew you couldn't enter the building. It’d be crawling with soldiers now that re-enforcements had arrived. You had to get as far away as possible. As much as your body was screaming at you to go back for Gally, it was a suicide mission and Gally was in disguise anyways.

You knew you had to get to the tunnels, it was your only way. Gally would meet you there once he realised the bus was gone.

You stared back at the building from a street over and fidgeted on your feet.

“Don’t die, asshole.” You muttered to Gally. You were praying he was alright.

With all the vehicles and soldiers around, and your injury, it was going to take you double the time to get back to the tunnels. You would have to stick to the alleys and avoid the main roads as best as you could.

A few blocks over you had to stop and lean against a wall. You tried to catch your breath as you checked your wound again. There was sirens everywhere which made matters a whole lot worse, it reminded you that there was no where to escape.

“I’m fucked, Gally.” You looked up at the sky and shook your head. You still had a while to go.

That’s when you heard the thundering crash. It came from the gates to the city.

You grabbed the fire escape next to you and climbed up the building to see what it was. Your eyes were met by a flaming hole where the gates used to stand.

“Shit Lawrence.” You figured who else could it be. You weren’t going to pretend that you didn’t know his real ambition. The city was WCKD now and Lawrence wanted to take down WCKD.

The chorus of screaming civilians was your cue to get back on the run.

Gally was with Newt, Thomas and Minho when Thomas called in to Brenda that they weren’t going to make it to the tunnels in time.

��Thomas, don't worry. I'm coming to you.” Brenda told the boys as she heard the craft fly over her.

“What are you talking about?” Thomas asked,

“Our ride's here! Just look for us near the tunnels.” Brenda told him. “One last thing, are you with (Y/n)?”

“No? I thought she was with you?” Thomas tried to stay quiet so that Gally couldn’t hear but it didn’t stop him.

“What’s the problem? Where’s (Y/n)?” Gally moved away from Newt and snatched the radio out of Thomas’ hand.

“She jumped off the bus when the soldiers came. She chose to stay. She was captured by WCKD but I swore I saw her beat the guards off of her. I saw her escape.” Brenda tried to tell Gally.

“We have to go back.” Gally stormed towards the door to the chaos outside when Minho grabbed him. Gally immediately shoved him off. “No, we have to go back!”

“If she’s escaped then she’s probably on her way to the tunnels now.” Thomas tried to assure Gally.

“If she escaped we would’ve seen her by now. She would have taken the exact same route as us.” Gally insisted.

“Not unless she’s already there.” Newt said weakly. Gally looked down at the dying boy for a moment before turning and kicking the wall in anger.

“We gotta get out of here now.” He proclaimed.

Newt was partially right with what he said to Gally. You were ahead of them but little did you both know it was only by a few feet.

You did your best to dodge the chaos but the explosions were too much. The force of one sent you off your feet and lead to glass and bits of concrete attacking you. You hissed as you protected your face, your lack of jacket meant your skin was very vulnerable.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You winced as you pulled a shard of glass from your side. It wasn’t large but it meant even more blood loss for you which wasn’t good.

You were just about ready to give up when you saw the aircraft land up ahead where the tunnels were. You knew it was Brenda and Jorge, it was the only bird in the sky and it wasn’t firing upon the city and in worst case scenario, you’re already dead anyways.

“Come on. Come on.” You tried to motivate yourself as you stood up.

You sprinted the best you could with your wounds straight to the train station.

“(Y/n)!” Brenda called your name as you ran towards them.

She embraced you, glad to see you made it. The moment was soon interrupted by Teresa’s voice being broadcasted all throughout the city.

“Thomas? Can you hear me? I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to come back. Thomas, you can save Newt.There's still time for him.There's a reason Brenda isn't sick anymore. It's your blood. Do you understand? She isn't sick because you cured her. She doesn't have to be the only one. All you have to do is come back. And this will all finally be over. Please. Just come back to me. I know you'll do the right––”

The power in the city died before she could say the last word.

You looked over at Brenda who looked like she couldn’t believe it herself. That’s when you heard Gally.

You turned at your name to see him climbing the stairs you just did.

You rushed forward and your bodies collided fiercely in a tight hug.

Gally pulled away at the notice of the blood soaking your shirt.

“What happened?” He focused on your shoulder as he span you around.

“Some asshole got me as I left WCKD.” You explained; still quite out of breath.

“She needs stitches immediately.” Gally looked towards the others.

“Here.” Jorge waved you both over but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Brenda, Minho and Gally all running off in the opposite direction.

“Gally! Gally!” You ran forward to grab him but Jorge and Fry kept you back.

“You have lost too much blood.” Jorge grunted as he struggled to keep you still. “They’ll be back.”

You let yourself relax as Jorge sat you down inside the craft. He pulled the soaked make-shift bandage away and ripped your t-shirt away.

You let him remove the bullet before stitching you up. By the time he finished with the stitches on both your shoulder and side and given you a jumper to wear, Brenda, Gally and Minho returned. Without Thomas. Without Newt.

You stood up to be met with Gally’s embrace. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and held you tightly. You clasped onto his hair and back as you felt him start to cry against your skin.

“Where’s Thomas and Newt?” Fry asked.

“Newt’s... Newt didn’t...” Minho kicked the ramp of the ship and let out a scream into the city.

You suddenly realised why Gally needed that hug there and then.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, stroking his hair.

Gally may have seemed like the ‘asshole’ to the group in the maze towards the end of the trials but back at the beginning, him and Newt were good friends.

“Everyone inside. We need to go get Thomas.” Brenda wiped away her tears as she beckoned everyone inside the ship.

Gally sat beside you as you settled down in one of the chairs and he held onto your hand with both of his.

“Circle the building! He’s in there somewhere!” Brenda shouted to Jorge as he piloted the aircraft.

Everyone moved to the front to lookout for him.

“I think I got him!” Jorge called back when he searched the rooftop.

“Yeah, that’s him. Open the hatch!” Brenda ordered, moving to the back to help pull them in.

You stayed back as you couldn’t lift anyone in with your shoulder.

You watched as they just managed to pull Thomas in and that’s when you watched as Teresa fall.

“No...” You gasped and turned away. You heard the heartbreaking cry from Thomas.

You knew that feeling all too well.

You didn’t know if there was anywhere left that was safe in the world.

That was until you boarded a ship along with the rest of the survivors and started a new life on a new shore.

“You and Gally will have matching scars now, surely?” One of the younger girls smirked as you taught her how to tie a proper knot.

The other girls around you also giggled and wiggled their eyes at you but they were all young so you just rolled your eyes.

You looked up in the direction of Gally to see him chopping some wood.

All the girls whispered to each other as they all turned to watch him and Minho too.

Past Gally you saw a shape you hadn't seen leave a bed in a long time. You saw Thomas.

“Excuse me, girls.” You sprung up and rushed towards Gally, taking his hand as you both made your way to Thomas.

You watched Thomas take Minho into a hug before the others.

“Glad to see you pulled through.” You said as he faced you. Thomas nodded before Vince made his presence known to him.

Vince spent the afternoon showing Thomas around and explaining the journey before the evening rolled in and everyone was gathered for a meeting.

You sat underneath Gally’s arm, resting your head on his shoulder as Vince addressed the group.

“We have come a long way together. So many have sacrificed so much to make this place possible.Your friends and your family. So, here's to the ones who couldn't be here. Here's to the friends we lost. This place is for you. It's for all of us. But this, this is for them. So, in your own time in your own way, come make your peace. And welcome to the Safe Haven!” Vince’s speech lead to an eruption of cheers and hollers.

You kissed Gally, smiling sweetly against his lips.

“Come on.” Gally lead you down to the rock so that you could write your brother’s name.

You stepped back and looked at the name in the fire light. Gally wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek, handing you a glass of his famous whiskey.

You wiped away a tear that strayed from your eyes.

“To a new life.” You lifted your glass as did Gally and you toasted to your new life.

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slusheeduck · 5 years

Note

I just had a thought about Marco Veracruz’s parents, they are probably going to be in for a rough afterlife when they reach the LotD. From what I’ve read they’ve been trying to discredit, sue, or slander the Riveras for claiming Ernesto was a thief. They would spend all their lives defending Ernesto only to die and find out his true nature and everyone who sees them would be like “The murder attempt on Miguel was bad enough but De la Cruz’s own grandkid was picking on the kid and his family.”

Well, by the time Ramona and Angel die, it’s a good while after the De la Cruz drama, and while they never quite recover the Veracruz fame and respect that they had before Miguel’s revelation, after a few years (and Marco’s very determined “LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE” campaign which includes several threats to ruin the family name himself way more than anything the Riveras could do) they mellow out. A few of their nieces and nephews launch a campaign to recognize Ernesto de la Cruz as a complex historical figure who, while he lacked writing talent, was still a terrific singer, actor, and general showman.

(Their efforts are, ironically enough, helped quite a bit by the biopic Marco and Miguel do, and while no one in the family talks to Marco for quite a few years, he gets a grudging “thank you” some years later and find himself back on speaking terms with the Veracruzes.)

Arriving to the Land of the Dead, then, is not as traumatic as it was for Marco’s grandparents. Everyone has cooled down, and while they don’t get the heroes greeting that Maria-Teresa and Sebastian got, it’s still a pleasant enough affair. At least, until Maria-Teresa starts going off on that usurping family.

#coco #pixar coco #sonance #marco veracruz

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

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alone, i fight these animals [alone, until i get home]: ii

I.... have no clue if this qualifies as a proper multichapter, but I discovered myself wanting to do a second part to this, so that is what I did. It was mostly an excuse to write some Frank/Madani and Frank/Matt frenemy BROTP, because I have a need for that.

If this turns into a real fic, I will post it on AO3. I have no idea at this point, and have not actually done something sensible like plotting it out, but yes.

The engine dies with a rumble, as Frank switches it off and leans back in the driver’s seat, watching the docklands with a wary eye. The car is an old beater of a Chevy, outwardly indistinguishable from any other low-slung growler that might be cruising around here, but he doesn’t go to meetings like this without enough horsepower to make a fast getaway. Frank modified it himself and keeps it in the garage with the battle van, which luckily he hasn’t had to bust out for a while, and it’s a little less eye-catching than that big black beast. Serves the same purpose, though. He tends to change up the paint job, add or remove accessories. Doesn’t want to get distinctive, identifiable.

He’s said that he’ll be here for ten minutes exactly and then he’ll leave, so Madani, if she’s coming, better be fuckin’ punctual. He doesn’t know that he trusts her to look like anything other than a federal agent rolling up to a clandestine meet with a confidential informant, but she must have climbed the ladder by not being an idiot. There’s still the chance that she’s going to spring handcuffs on him for that scene the other night, but Frank doesn’t think so. She needs his help with catching the rest of the ring, whether or not she’ll admit it. That’s the reason for this. Everything else is brass tacks and haggling.

It’s minute seven and forty-three seconds when Madani, having apparently decided that she doesn’t want to time their arrivals to coincide exactly, but conscious of the deadline, turns in. Frank can’t tell it’s her at first, which is a good sign, but does make him reach momentarily for his gun. Then the other car parks with a crunch of gravel, a slight figure in a jacket, hooded grey sweatshirt, and jeans gets out, and strolls across the icy pavement to his. He clicks the door to unlock it, and Madani ducks into the passenger seat, wrinkling her nose. “You ever heard of Febreze, Castle?”

“Don’t think you came here to complain that my shit stinks, huh?” Frank glances at her, trying to judge her temperament for being difficult. Her dark curls wave out of the hood, she probably has her badge clipped right under her sweatshirt, and he can just feel her longing to brandish it in his face. “Or if that’s your opening line, you already know you’re backed into a corner, and you need to act like you can throw your weight around before you ask for a favor.”

Madani gives him a searing look. “I have no idea why I came here.”

“You asked for it.” Frank leans back in the seat, hands behind his head. “And I think we’re past you pullin’ rank on me, acting all fuckin’ superior, aren’t we?”

Madani chews that over for several moments, which means she can’t dispute it. “Fine,” she says at last. “I still don’t necessarily think you’re a good man, Frank, but you don’t give a rat’s ass whether I think that or not, and in this job, you don’t get the luxury of working with Mother Teresa all the time. You were, admittedly, effective with breaking the pedophile ring. We did run some diagnostics on their computers, and we have more names.”

Frank snorts – breaking the pedophile ring is the most goddamn government-jargony way he has ever heard to say blew their fucking brains out, and he used to work for an actual black-ops hit squad. “You’re welcome,” he says, since she’d probably choke on it. “Told you.”

“Yeah, all right, fine.” Madani waves an irritated hand. “Anyway, there has been a lot of red tape in the office recently, bullshit with the budget, obsession with going after softer targets. You know this administration and the kind of people it thinks are a threat. So – ”

“And you, as Special Agent in Charge, don’t always agree with the strings they pull to make you dance?” Frank could gloat over this a little more, but there will be time for that later. “Going rogue? You want to talk to me because you know I get results, when those dickheads just sit there with their thumbs up their ass and do jackshit to actually help?”

“Something like that.” It’s clear that Madani has plenty of frustrations, whether or not she’s going to let on to him. “I still believe in our institutions, no matter who’s running them, but it’s true that things are taking a… turn right now, and I’m under a lot of scrutiny. If I can’t even push through an operation to take a bunch of child abusers off the street, then…” She trails off. “I still don’t know whether to thank you for that or not, by the way. They’re dead, but it looks like I blew it and once again, a vigilante had to wipe the U.S. government’s ass. They want an excuse to fire me, Frank. I’m asking you to help not give them one.”

Frank takes that in without answering, He can guess that Madani is too female and too ethnic to make the douchebags of record very comfortable; as the daughter of Iranian immigrants, even a thoroughly Americanized one, these chickenshits are constantly going to be looking for an excuse to pull the trigger, so to speak. And if Madani goes, whatever tenuous protection he has from DHS reopening his case goes as well. There are plenty of assholes jockeying to take over her chair, and all of them would love to make a big splash by catching the Punisher. Normally, Frank thinks, they bend over fuckin’ backwards to defend white men with guns, but not when he won’t play ball with you. That’s different.

“Fine,” he says. “And to save your ass, you’re the one here asking for more help from me. What do you think I’m going to do?”

“I can transmit the intelligence to you,” Madani says. “Names, aliases, assets, last known whereabouts, everything the analysts have managed to piece together. These guys are nasty, Frank, they aren’t just making kiddie videos on the Deep Web. They’ve got a lot of other interests, and all of them are equally bad. I need you to track them down.”

“And?” Frank stares at her, one eyebrow cocked. “What do you think I’m gonna do next? Give them fuckin’ milk and cookies?”

“Of course not.” Madani sounds exasperated. “You really think I don’t know what you do, Frank? But as it happens, yes, I’m asking you not to kill them. Track them down, capture them, hurt them if you have to, but don’t kill them. I need them, I need them physically to show the brass and to prove that I succeeded. After that, all the stuff they’re in, the prosecutors can probably push for the death penalty. They’ll die one way or another, if that’s what you want. But if I don’t get them alive, it all falls apart.”

“I’m not a goddamn bounty hunter,” Frank snaps. “I’m a killer. I don’t take prisoners, Madani. I’m supposed to – what, get on a plane with these assholes tied up in a line behind me? If you’re asking me to go outside the rules and get them, you want them dead.”

“It’s not like I’m defending them!” Madani barks back. “I know they’re terrible! But if they just die mysteriously, I have pretty much no shot at keeping my job, and then there are going to be people looking for you, Frank. Looking for you and Karen. How much do you want to risk that? It seems like you’re a little more settled these days. Have something to lose.”

“You threatening me?” Frank whirls on her. “You threatening me, huh?”

“No.” Madani, to her credit, keeps her composure, though her nostrils flare. “I’m warning you. If I’m not in charge of DHS, it’ll look for you. Whoever you’re with is going to come into the firing line too. I’m sure you don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Frank doesn’t answer, though his finger twitches so violently that his entire hand jumps on his thigh. Goddamn it, Madani. She has his balls in a fuckin’ vise, has him bent over a barrel, and the worst thing is that she probably knows it. He can’t play games with Karen’s safety, even if every one of his natural instincts is to just cap the bastards in the head and call it a day. Madani needs them alive for her little stage play, and Frank – whether or not he wants to admit it – needs Madani where she is right now. It’s at least in some part due to her that he can walk around New York as a free man, even one ostensibly called Pete Castiglione. That’s a flimsy alias, and any digging, or anyone even looking too long at his face and a newspaper front page, would be able to piece it together. If he wants to keep this life, whatever it is, he can’t just charge in, blow shit up, and charge out. He needs to be strategic about this. Long-term. Fuck.

“So what?” he growls at last. “You give me the intel, I track down these bastards, I give them to you for a Christmas present? You do Christmas?”

“Yeah.” Madani rubs under her eyes with both fingers. “My parents thought it was an important part of an American upbringing. Any other questions?”

“And after you show them to the bosses, you check whatever godforsaken boxes you have to check, you prove you’ve run the operation, they die.” Frank is willing to help her, if it contributes to keeping Karen safe, but he isn’t going to budge on that point. “They don’t get some cushy life in protected custody. You’re going to arrange it somehow that they die, and I don’t mean waiting ten years on death row. Got it?”

Madani’s cheeks flush a dull red. “I really don’t want to be an accomplice to extrajudicial murder, Frank. No matter how terrible they are.”

“Well, that’s what makes you and me different.” Frank grins mirthlessly. “Besides, you play your cards right, it doesn’t stick to you. You know you’re taking a hell of a chance here, don’t you? All these under-the-table arrangements with me come out, you’re finished one way or the other. But you think you can do it on your own, you’re welcome to run back to your department and sign all your paperwork and follow procedure. Have fun.”

The silence is briefly and overpoweringly enormous. Then Madani says, “Fuck you, Frank.”

“Take that as a no?” It’s starting to get chilly in the car, with the engine off and the temperature below freezing, and Frank blows on his hands. “No, you can’t do it alone?”

“I obviously would not be here if I thought things were going well on my end.” Madani sounds like she would prefer to have her fingernails ripped out rather than admit it, but she doesn’t have a lot to lose now. “Obviously, I’m sure I can trust you to total discretion. If you need money or something else, I can arrange it. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I can handle money.” They’re obviously not living on Karen’s newspaper/paralegal salary alone, and David gave him a nice chunk of change a while ago, which is kept in a bank in the Caymans. “But last time one of us sent the other some kind of sensitive information – when David sent you the Zubair video – we know what fuckin’ happened next. If anything, if any bit of this, catches up to Karen in any way, we’re done, Madani. We’re done. I will rip anyone who comes after her to fucking pieces, and I don’t give a shit if they’ve got a government badge or not. I’ll help you stay in DHS if DHS is going to mind its goddamn business. But if you get some other kind of conspiracy going, anything like Rollins, I’m warning you right now. I will kill all of you. I am not fucking joking.”

Madani takes that without answering, though her lips tighten. “I’m aware,” she says at last. “You’re a loose cannon, Frank, but we want the same things, the same people taken down. Let’s start there. You let me handle my end of the BS, I let you handle yours. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Frank grumbles, even though he still has plenty of misgivings. Maybe he should leave, should move out and get his own place somewhere, even if he doesn’t want to move back into that goddamn basement with David again. It feels like it’s too unforgivably dangerous to keep living with Karen, but letting her alone is even worse. Jesus. “Send me the information and be careful with it. I’ll maybe talk to Lieberman, see if he wants to help, but he’s got his family back. I’m also telling you now, nothing happens to Sarah and those kids. They’ve been through enough. See to it.”

Madani pauses, then nods. They reach out, shake hard enough as if trying to break each other’s fingers, and then she jerks the door open and climbs out, striding back to her car. Frank scans to see if anyone’s parked on a rooftop or has been loitering too long by the underpass, but their meeting looks to have been unobserved. He swears again under his breath and switches back on the engine, firing up the heater, and waits until Madani’s car has vanished down the alley before he throws the Chevy into reverse and peels out in the other direction. Well, that was a whole bunch of shit, and he doesn’t even know how far he’s already dug himself into it. Maybe if he had just left it alone to start with and never went after the ring, but that’s more than he was prepared to countenance. Makes him see red every time he thinks about it. Frank doesn’t see himself as some kind of sainted protector of the city. Far from it. But he was born in Long Island, he grew up here, he left for the first time at age eighteen on his first deployment, and while he’s been plenty of places since, there’s still something about New York that has a hold on him, broken and blackened and painful as it’s become. He loves this place, even if it hates him. He wasn’t letting them live in it.

Frank guns it down the service road back to the main thoroughfare, turns out, and drives back to the out-of-the-way garage where he keeps this car and the battle van. He pulls in, unlocks the chain link fence, rolls through, and parks, then can’t help searching for any signs of intrusion or forced entry. He has no idea who he would expect to be here, if anyone, but that long-ingrained urge to look over your shoulder, to check your six, that never goes away. Madani said the pedos had plenty more nasty friends. Could be any one of them.

Everything, however, looks ordinary. Frank makes a note to ask David for some more cameras, keep more of an eye on this place from afar, and wonders if he can really ask him to strap back on and wade into the shit again. David isn’t a soldier, and he got involved in this to start with to clear his name and be reunited with his family. He got that. Not much incentive to risk them all over again, much as he might personally want to help Frank out or feel indebted to him. Frank has some tech know-how, but he’s probably overall comparable to David trying to fire an AK-47. In other words, totally fucked.

Frank thinks that the lack of a partner has never bothered him before, the fewer people he can involve in this low-level shitstorm the better, and he’ll work out what he needs to. Having finished his sweep, he locks up, battens down, and catches a bus into midtown, briefly tempted to stop by Nelson, Murdock, and Page just to make Foggy choke on his tongue. Stroll in and bring Karen lunch, just because. But now, he wants to be cautious about going straight from a meetup with Madani to the office. He hasn’t told Karen about this new wrinkle yet, and he still doesn’t know whether he should. Probably. They just had a fight about it, and he can’t just disappear for days or weeks without an explanation. It’s always easier to do this work when you have no one to account yourself to, but he can’t lose her.

Still coming up with no apparent solution to his dilemma, Frank buys a hot dog from a sidewalk cart and sits on a park bench to eat it, scattering the remains of his bun to a flock of ravenous pigeons when he’s done. It’s cold but clear, New York running around and getting ready for Christmas, and he once more feels that impulse, that wish that he could kick back and enjoy it. But who knows. Who fuckin’ knows.

Frank sits there a moment more, then growls, “Shit.” This doesn’t do anything, it doesn’t even really make him feel better, but it’s an acceptable reaction to what he has to do. David is a glib son of a bitch who’s great with a keyboard – and has admittedly saved Frank’s ass a couple times – but if this is going to come down to brass-knuckle diplomacy, which it almost assuredly will, Frank needs someone who can fight, who is just as annoyingly dedicated to getting bad guys off the street and out of New York, and is equally insane enough to keep running full speed into punches. Yeah, they have some pretty major philosophical oppositions, but still. This looks like a two-vigilante job, at fuckin’ least, and besides. Maybe they should be, you know. Friends. For Karen’s sake.

Frank swears again, then pulls out his phone, scrolls through it to “R,” and hits the number. He swiped it from Karen’s, and the recipient doesn’t know he has it, so this is going to be a surprise, and could of course horribly backfire. But he waits a few more moments until it’s answered. “Murdock.”

“Uh.” Frank blows out a breath. “Hey, Red.”

There is a very long silence on the other end, as Frank realizes that they’ve never had an actual conversation where he’s made it clear he knows the deal. But come on. He ain’t fuckin’ stupid. (Plenty of people would disagree, but nearly all of them are dead.) He sat up there on that rooftop with Red yammering at him, then he sat in court with Murdock going on just as annoyingly, he put two and two together. He’s always acted like he didn’t know, just because Red has a bug up his ass about the secret identity shit, and besides, Karen knows, Karen told him anyway. Not that Frank would say that, because he figured it out himself, and he’s not gonna throw her under the bus if Murdock gets pissy. Well, this is already fun.

“Frank,” Matt says at last, sounding… well, let’s just say, not goddamn thrilled. “Why are you calling me?”

This is a fair question, and Frank hunts for some kind of explanation that won’t immediately make him hang up. “Karen’s fine, Karen’s fine,” he says, in case that’s what Matt thinks would be the only reason to make him get in touch. “Not any of that. I actually had a suggestion. For some work. If you were interested.”

“Work?” Matt sounds leery. “What the hell kind of work, exactly?”

“The kind you and me both do, Red. Take some bad people off the streets.”

“I didn’t realize you – ” Matt starts, then stops. “I didn’t know you… knew.”

“Yeah, well, we already established you were a dense motherfucker.” Frank switches the phone to the other shoulder, even as it belatedly occurs to him that maybe he shouldn’t be insulting the guy whose help he is, regrettably, asking for. “You were my goddamn lawyer, think I don’t know how you talk?”

There is another mulish silence as he can hear Matt chewing over that, wanting to ask how long he’s known, if he’s told anyone else, all that. Murdock might be tangentially aware that Frank and Karen are knocking boots, but does not want to have to actually refer to it in any capacity, and Frank is tempted to make a smart remark on that topic, just cuz. But he’s not going to be a dick to Karen, even in absentia, to score a couple cheap macho asshole points on a blind lawyer in a Halloween costume. Instead he says, “You want to know more or not?”

“Does this involve murdering the bad people? Because if so, you know I can’t agree to that.”

“Jesus, Red. They’re about as bad as you can get, even you don’t want to hand-hold these bastards and take them to Sunday school. I can send you the details once I get ‘em, but either way, they need to be stopped. Doing some fucked-up shit, a lot of fucked-up shit, actually. So?”

“Fine,” Matt growls, as Frank figured he eventually would. “Let me know the intel whenever you get it.”

“You need some Braille shit or something?” Frank asks. “Or you have something that reads your email for you?”

“I got through Columbia Law, you know I’m not actually an idiot. Just send it, I’ll work on it from there.” Matt pauses. “You told Karen about this?”

Frank feels like Matt Murdock is the least qualified individual to give anyone advice on this subject whatsoever, especially about this woman, and it’s only with difficulty that he bites himself back from something designed to cut. “No,” he says. “Not yet.”

It’s hard to tell what Matt thinks of that, especially over the phone. Then he says, “Obviously, I think the one thing we can agree on is that we don’t want this to spill over onto her. So whatever we’re chasing here, we need to keep her safe.”

Frank knows that wanting to keep Karen out of this has worked exactly like jackshit in the past, and he knows too that she’s strong and capable and no wilting hothouse flower, would probably shoot some of the dicks herself if she had half a chance. But he understands what Matt’s saying, given that he just outright threatened Madani to be sure none of this touched Karen, and doesn’t want to torpedo their alliance at this preliminary stage. “Yeah,” he grunts. “She stays out of it, much as we can. That’s not a problem. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Matt says. “You’re still a total asshole.”

“Get that a lot.” It is not, Frank feels, entirely inaccurate, even as he rolls his eyes, because Christ, it’s rich coming from this prick. “Talk to you later, Red.”

With that, feeling as if it’s better to get out of there before things go any more south, he hangs up and stares at the phone, not sure he feels a whole lot better. He’ll go to the safe house tonight, where David still keeps his computers and surveillance setups, since that’s where Madani will be transmitting the information, and Frank likes to periodically check for signs of interference anyway. He gets up, chucks the hot dog paper tray away, and heads out. Takes a different route than he did in. Gets off a stop too early, and doubles back a few times. Once he’s finally satisfied that nobody followed him, he reaches the safe house, unlocks the chains, and heads inside. They’re not actually living in this shithole anymore, thank God, but it still gives him a momentary shudder.

Frank switches on the monitors, scans his retina, and waits until everything has booted up. There are about five passwords he has to enter before he can access the message that there’s a new file waiting for him, and he approves; Micro doesn’t fuck around with cyber security, especially given that there’s gotta be a lot of fishing for this. It’s a plaintext ASCII file, scrubbed of all identifiable electronic traces, and Frank pauses, then clicks to open it. It’s a list of names, social security numbers, addresses, email and phone numbers, known aliases and associations, everything that DHS has pulled from the servers on the remaining members of the pedophile ring. A separate file contains any mugshots on record, grainy jpegs, or driver’s license photos or anything else on public record.

Frank plugs in an encrypted flash drive, types more passwords to unlock it, and transfers everything onto it. He considers sending some kind of acknowledgement back to Madani that he got the information, but she can probably fuckin’ guess, and he doesn’t want to leave too many digital fingerprints. He checks that the files have copied over correctly and haven’t glitched, then deletes all the originals and clears every kind of cache he can think of. Obviously, he doesn’t think anyone is going to be in here working over these machines, and good luck getting through David’s firewalls, but better safe than sorry.

Having finished the retrieval, Frank figures the best way to hand the information over to Matt is probably in person – maybe he can drop by tonight after dark, see if Red wants to slap on that stupid fuckin’ horned helmet and they can go right away. Some of these bastards still have to be in town, right? They can’t all have made it out of New York. They’ll have guessed it’s too dangerous to travel under their real names, with an APB out for them, and fake identities take at least a little time to process, even if they have a good hookup. Try to stay hidden and wait for the smoke to blow over, feel like moving’s more dangerous. Frank’s counting on that, anyway, but if they’re backed into a corner, this won’t be pretty.

Frank pauses, then ejects the flash drive, puts it into a zippered pocket on his jacket, and powers everything down. He locks up, leaves everything as he found it, and heads out. It’s getting on in the afternoon by now, the day short and chill, and he wonders if Karen’s heading back to the Liebermans’ place tonight. At least it will keep her distracted from wondering where he is, but it admittedly feels a little like cheating. He should tell her, right? They’re trying to do that now. Not everything, maybe, but more.

Dusk is falling over the city by the time Frank makes it back to central Manhattan, a few stops more on the subway, and steps out into Hell’s Kitchen, which looks beautiful at this hour, all the lights coming on and Christmas trees glowing in windows and people hurrying by eager to be somewhere warm. Frank’s breath steams in the chill as he walks up to the apartment, lets himself in, and heads upstairs. Karen should be home by now. He’ll do it, he promises, he will maybe even ask her help. She’s a goddamn good journalist, she’s like a dog with a fuckin’ bone. She’ll gnaw and gnaw until she finds out whatever she needs to. But if he does that, he makes her a legitimate target, and when he’s promised himself this is the last one, the last mission, before he really settles down and tries to make a new life with her, he can’t quite shake the fear. Everyone knows what happens to the cop who takes this one last job before he’s supposed to retire, or whatever. He always gets killed.

The apartment, however, is dark and quiet, and it doesn’t look like Karen’s there. Frank wonders if he should call, just in case, but he doesn’t want to act like her goddamn babysitter; she’s a grown woman, she can look out for herself. Still, the ever-present prickle of anxiety whenever he doesn’t 100% know that she’s safe is difficult to dispel, he has often had reason to pay attention to this instinct, and he groans, pulls out his phone, and hits her number. Just pick up, Karen, Jesus Christ. Don’t give me a fuckin’ heart attack.

She doesn’t; it goes over to voicemail. Frank hangs up, reminds himself there are plenty of non-nefarious reasons for this, and struggles not to immediately jump to the conclusion that she’s been kidnapped by a lot of angry perverts and they’re holding her for ransom – or worse – against the death of their fellows. He rubs both hands over his face. It’s not that far to Red’s place from here. Ten-minute walk, less if he runs.

Frank gets together a decent selection of guns, throws them into his bag with extra boxes of ammo, straps a nine-millimeter to his ankle holster, and shoves his Ka-Bar into its sheath at his hip. Then, with a final look around, and wondering if he should just get David to install a tracking device on Karen’s phone (he did once tell David that Sarah would cut his nuts off if she discovered the Lieberman house spy cameras, but still), he heads back out. He jogs down the stairwell, and emerges into the chilly evening, glancing around once more just in case the subway was late or something and Karen’s getting home now. Jesus, this relationship shit is stressful. Can’t deal with his heart always walking around somewhere else again. Especially when that heart is as feisty and independent and fuckin’ reckless as Karen. He isn’t the right man to tell anyone to take a goddamn chill pill, but jeez.

It’s eight minutes later when Frank reaches Matt’s street, turns in, and leaps up the steps two or three at a time, reaching the hallway and banging on the door of his apartment. He better be in, or Frank’s really gonna have a problem, and indeed, Matt jerks it open a moment later. “Frank? What the hell? I thought you were going to send an email.”

“Plans changed.” Frank shifts tensely from foot to foot. “Look, throw on your pajamas and your fuckin’ hat with the horns, huh, Red? Let’s go, yeah?”

Matt raises both eyebrows. After a moment he says, “Your heart rate’s off the charts. What’s wrong? Are you sure Karen’s okay? Frank, Jesus, you know I don’t like this, whatever it is, with you two, but if you can’t even look after her – ”

“Yeah, because what we really needed was your goddamn opinion.” Frank clenches both fists, reminds himself that he has no solid evidence that anything is awry at all, and takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. A soldier who runs into the middle of a fight frantic and haywire and not focused usually gets shot in the first few seconds, and he’s definitely not letting Matt see (or whatever, echolocate, he doesn’t know exactly how all that works) him at less than his best. “We can probably get to some of these assholes tonight, that’s all. Checked the addresses, a dozen of ‘em live in a ten-block radius in Queens. I take one half, you take the other, we could close the book. You up for it or no?”

Matt hesitates. It’s clear that his first instinct is also to rush in and take on the baddies, even if he is leery about doing it with Frank. At last he says, “If you’re putting Karen in danger, you know the right thing to do would be to walk away.”

Frank starts to say something, then stops. It’s worse that he’s had that idea himself, that he keeps having the impulse to bail out and disappear and never be seen again, but if that’s what Matt thinks he should do, well, it’s clearly wrong. Same guy who lied to Karen for months and months, keeps dropping out of her life and then reappearing and expecting that things will just be the goddamn same between them, jerking her around and causing her heartache and worry and still too unable to realize that there’s a cost to living this way, there’s a cost. Frank isn’t gonna judge Matt on the vigilante thing, though for goddamn sure he judges him on a lot of others. He knows that compulsion to do what you know is right, no matter if anyone else understands it that way or not. But he’s never been under any illusions that it’s compatible with a normal life, with keeping people in it, with thinking they’ll see it the same way and you can just split into two halves, two halves that will always stay separate from the other. He called Matt on it before. Was it you that did those things, or was it the mask?

“Yeah,” Frank says. “I didn’t come here for your bullshit romantic advice, Red. You can help me or not, but either way, I’m going.”

Matt once more starts to respond, then stops. “Still not sure when you worked out it was me.”

“Come on. First thing I ever said to you, when you walked into my hospital room, was that I knew who you were. You think I only meant your shitty fuckin’ law firm?”

Matt chews over that, and (wisely) decides not to rebut. Finally he says, “Meet me in the alley. Five minutes.”

Frank rolls his eyes, guesses that there’s some mystique that has to be preserved, can’t see Murdock shimmying bare ass into his fancy long johns or whatever, and takes his leave. Five minutes later, he’s in the back alley as instructed, when Red leaps down in full devil glory and jerks his head. “Let’s go.”

They wend their way through the shadows, across some rooftops, then get a cab part of the way. Frank imagines that even this is not the weirdest thing the driver has seen in his life, waiting at a red light like everything’s normal with goddamn Daredevil and the Punisher sitting side by side in the backseat and determinedly not looking at each other, but it’s probably close. He does keep trying not to steal glances at them in the rearview mirror, though. Finally says, “You boys out for the evening?”

“Just drive,” Frank orders him. “Yeah?”

Wisely, the guy does so, reaches Queens in another fifteen minutes, and as they get out of the cab, Frank shucks out a big tip and hands it over with the fare. “Don’t need to tell you that you saw nothin’,” he reminds him. “So you keep your trap shut.”

“Yes, sir. Got it.” The driver takes the money and nods awkwardly. “Have a – good night.”

With that, he lays rubber getting out of there, Frank watches him go with a sardonic expression, and then hefts his bag of guns with a clunk. “This way,” he informs Matt. “Stay sharp. One of them had a .38 last time, and I’m guessing they’re waiting for someone to turn up and try to sic ‘em. Feds or otherwise.”

He can feel Matt wanting to say something about the guns, wanting to ask how they’re going to deal with this, exactly, or maybe sensing that if they’re going to split this half and half and make any success of it, they’re just going to have to turn a blind eye (literally) to what the other’s doing. Frank snaps the stock on his carbine into place, and glances ahead. There’s a light on, in the first floor of the somewhat seedy office park. That matches the intel, where they had another meet-up spot. If the pedos are in there now, Red better not get in his way.

He glances sidelong at his – for the moment – ally. Matt raises a hand, listens, then – whatever he hears, Frank can’t tell, but he’s deciding to trust it – nods once.

Time to go.

#mcu #netflix punisher #the punisher #kastle #kastle ff #(though it's mostly frank talking about karen with other people in this installment)#frank x madani #frank x matt

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myimaginespot · 6 years

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I WAS IN THE DARKNESS SO DARKNESS I BECAME- Chapter 6

I’m so sorry for the delay these months were crazy and I did not have time to finish the chapter but I promise to upload new chapters every week and make them longer. :)

Reader x Thomas Shelby

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Thomas

I took her to a guest room, she weight nothing, her bones felt prominent. Wasn’t she eating? I’ll have a talk with her babysitter, as she call her. She have a rare sense of humor, I like it. She’s so stubborn just like me or maybe more. I worry about her dislike to being touch, not because I wanted to touch her , I really truly not… I think. But because that means she’ve been dealing with abuse for a long time, clearly by her fathers hand , I don’t even want to think about that but one more reason to hate that bastard. She is definitely not what I expected. Something within me makes me want to help her and protect her but at the same time I can’t trust her, what she told us makes sense, I do believe that all of this wedding thing is a trap, I must watch her closely this month. I place her in the bed and examine the wound on her head, it looks that she is really good at sewing. I make the maid call for the doctor and wait in her room, she looks tiny in the big bed, she makes it difficult to remember her stature, thanks to her attitude she seams taller than must men I knew. Even in her sleep peace eludes her. Teresa enter the room with worry on her face. she has not seen me sitting in the chair in the corner. She starts to take the pins of (Y/N) hair, then she proceeds to remove the gloves from (Y/N) hands, that’s when I see the blood staining her hands and bruises on her knuckles. Teresa take the tray with water that she brought with her and start cleaning (Y/N) hands with a sigh. She does not look surprised, rather resigned, that makes me wonder what the fuck really happen . “What really happen before she arrived here?” I demand in a cold voice. Teresa jumps scared and looks for the intruder, she looks at me and bow her head. “ I’m sorry Mr. Shelby I didn’t see you siting there” “ I ask you a question” I repeat . “ She look between me and (Y/N) thinking about what to say or what to do. “ I’m sorry sir but is not up to me to revel information of Miss. (Y/N)” she said apologetic “ If you want to remain with her you’ll tell me what I want to know or else go pack your bag and leave my house.” I said with any remorse. She looks at me trying to figure me out. Good luck with that. “She was in a fight “ was all she said. “ obviously, but why ?” I waited. “ I honestly don’t know how to answer that question Mr. Shelby” “She told us that she ‘ll kill Vitali and what he planed , she is willing to work with me , so if your afraid of betraying her , don’t. I want to know if I can trust her and you seem to know her really well, she respects you, for the little I saw.” Teresa stare at me with shock then back to (Y/N). She sigh and took a sit in the chair near the bed.

“I care for her, and I will never do something to harm her, I fear more her anger than yours Mr. Shelby but I was the one to tell her that she needed to cooperate with you, because you both seem to have the same goal. I think she try to do that by what are you telling me, you need to understand that she is very different and complicated. She struggle to interact in a civilized way with people and that’s because she had have a rough life whether you believe it or not.” She look at (y/N) again and sight “Her father send men to do that to her because you call him and make him believe that you would call of the wedding because of her behavior and he got angry at her, that’s what happened.” I didn’t know what to say , guilt and anger run through my mind, this was the first time I regretted the way I handle things to achieve what I wanted . “Men? ” I ask with disbelieve. “ Yes, men. It’s not the first time neither.” “Why? she is his daughter why would he do something like that?” “Because he can” “ That motherfucker. I dislike him more and more” “Mr. Shelby….you can trust her, she is the kind of person that does not have to lie or cheat to get something, she sees and takes, she says and acts, she promises and fulfills, she dictates and exercises. That is why in our world she is feared. Brutal honestly is fear among this circles, you should know, People do not expect it.” “ How can I trust her when I don’t know anything about her. No one I hired could find information about her, it’s like she don’t even exist.” I told her. “I talk to women in the city to find out about you Mr. Shelby, you’re very famous, respected and feared, I know your people try to find information about her. ” I study Teresa closer, she was about Pollys age and didn’t seem to be a simple maid. I was now intrigue to know the relation between her and (Y/N). I take a cigarette and lit it up. “She moves in a different circle than anyone, not richer , but darker and dangerous. The people that know about her will never tell. within this land the probability that at least one person knows about her is high if some one is in debt with the iItalian mafia. But you see, they fear her more than they fear you , that is why you found nothing about her. “ “ Like I said, she is honest and if you want to know about her just ask her.” I thought about the things that Teresa told me, what kind of circles exactly? Would it be true that people fear her more than they fear me? Better change the subject for now. “She is so thin, Doesn’t she eat ?” I ask her. Teresa looked uncomfortable “ She does eat Mr. Shelby, sometimes she doesn’t have time or she forgets to eat at all, she lives under a lot of stress. That’s why she call me her babysitter” she smile “ I often bother her about this subject and make her sit down and eat, she cannot leave until she finish everything.” “ I can’t imagine her doing as she’s told, you’re important for her if she does what you tell her” “ Her mother died when she was five years old, I’ve known and carry for her since that age. “ “Good, then you’ll make sure that she eats proper, I’ll supervise her but when I’m not around it’ll be your duty” “Of course Mr. Shelby”

We waited in silence until the doctor arrive. He was about to examine her and he ask me to go out of the room, I tell him to fuck off and do his job. Teresa was about to said something but she think it twice. I was not about to leave (Y/N) with a strange man in her room.

The doctor check for a concussion but there was non, they take her dress out to examine her ribs and I could see her body just cover by a thin piece of clothe, I focus on her wounded arms, they were fill with bruises from defending her self, she had black bruises in her ribs, they were not broken just a couple were fracture, the blood that she coughwas du to a hit lung but she was not in danger she just needed rest. When the doctor finish he gave us instructions to take care of her and then they left her room and I stay back contemplating her. What have I gotten myself into?

“She ok Tom?” Arthur ask . “She’ll be just fine, she needs rest thats all.” I sit down on a couch and lit up a cigarette. “She is something else” John laugh and Esme look at him. “ She thinks she is better than us John” Esme argue. Polly stay silent looking hard at me. “ What is it Poll spit it put” “I don’t trust her Thomas, keep your eyes open. You don’t want another surprise like what happened with Grace, a fucking cop”

It was late I was in my office doing some paperwork but I couldn’t seem to focus. Grace have been gone for almost two year now, she got married and I let her go but a couple of months back she started to write me letters, I never open one. I didn’t want to know about her but true be told I don’t know what would happen if I ever see her again. I fell in love with her and she betray me .

(Y/N)

I woke up in pain, nothing new, the bed felt different, fluffier and big, immediately I sit and look around me, reaching for my gun but there was no gun and I was in my underwear, my head spin and my ribs were killing me. “Fuck!!” I said without a breath. What the hell happen? all I remember are cold eyes of the most intense blue I have ever seen… Thomas! I am in Thomas house, I faint. Fuck. I tried to get up of bed, my knees felt weak, what the fuck did I sleep through the whole year?. I tried to reach the bathroom and I fell to the floor. “Motherfucker!!” I let out a small scream and I stay lying on the floor in pain and resigned. I start thinking about the meeting with the Shelbys, sure as hell I made an impression. I sigh. Why can I get along with people!? I try I swear I tried but what is the point if they already think bad about me . Bha.. even if they get to know me they ‘ll probably hate me, I’m not a good person. While I was ranting someone enter the room. “Teresa how many years did I sleep in, my legs don’t function.” I said with my face buried in the wooden floor. She didn’t answers and I felt a strong hand turn me around with care. My eyes collided with the must beautiful set of eyes, I felt shivers running through my body.

“You should take it easy” Thomas said, he approach me with the intention of lifting me up. “Stop” I said with panic to Thomas “Whats the matter? you can’t stay on the ground you’re wounds haven’t heal yet, yo need rest” he was about to pick me up but i held my hand to stop him “ I can get up by my self “ “ Clearly you can’t even stand up so let me help you don’t be stubborn” he tried to touch me again. I started to feel scared , this is one of the things that i couldn’t handle. being touch. there are a few reasons why I don’t let people touch me, fist one, innocent people get close to me they die, Michael was innocent . Maybe Thomas was not innocent at all but he didn’t deserve my bad luck. I gather all my strength and lift myself up the floor , the pain run through my body. I almost lost my balance but reach the bed and I held on. I look Thomas in the eye and I could see that they way I was acting was strange and will I would raise suspicions about why I hated being touch but I couldn’t care less.

“I’m ok now so you can continue with your things I don’t need another babysitter.” Thomas took a sit in front of the bed , took out a cigaret and light it up. the way he held the cigar and smoke it was something so intense to behold,. “Tell me more about you’re fathers plan“ I took a seat on the edge of the bed and realized that I was in my underwear in front of Thomas and I felt my face turn red but I decided to act naturally as if I do not care. “All I know is that this marriage is a trap he is crazy about getting the wedding held and some people of the new york familia are in town.” “but if somewhat came to happened you will be at risk at the wedding reception, you’re the daughter of the Head.

I laughed hard “ He couldn’t care less for me Thomas I am disposable” he look at me not believing what I told him I could see it in his eyes. “ Lets assume that what you’re telling me is true, for me to trust in you I need to now every detail, how many people came from new york?”

“I have no idea but I could find out” “I also need to know who are they and why they came here “ “yeah that may be a little difficult but I’ll see what I can do” I stretch my hand to the night stand and pick up my cigars and lit one” “See Thomas you're not the only one who needs to trust someone , we’ll work together but don’t you ever think of betraying me, you would not like the outcome” he smile at me, not a real smile “ The same goes for you and you better watch the way you talk to me y/n I am not working for you and I don’t like threats , be careful” I stare at the ceiling“ I think we both need to be careful”

With that being said he walk out the room and I kept staring at the ceiling. Something wet was rolling down my cheek, water stain my fingers. Tears, I could not remember the last time I cry so it was a shock. It have to be cause by the pain I felt , must certainly was that. Nothing to do with the fact that my chest felt hollow.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine

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aurantia-ignis · 7 years

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how do you rank the berseria characters in terms of personal favorites and why?

Okay since you asked ‘why’, I’m going to give you two versions. One with spoilers and one without.The spoiler-free rank!1. Eizen and *SPOILER CHARACTER*2. Laphicet3. Velvet4. Eleanor and Rokurou6. *SPOILER CHARACTER*7. Dyle, *SPOILER CHARACTER*, Benwick 8. Seres9. Magilou 10. Or & Toros, Percival 11. Artorius, Shigure, Kurogane, Medisa, Moana12. Oscar, Teresa, Melchior Reveals and reasons will be under the spoiler cut

>>>>>>>MAJOR BERSERIA SPOILERS BELOW>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>1. Eizen and ZaveidThese two tie because I can’t pick between the two of them. I love Eizen’s personality: the way he makes occasional puns, his enthusiasm for adventure and loot, the way he watches over Laphicet (and later, Velvet and the rest of the party). I love the way his backstory was crafted, how he had to live with the curse of the shinigami until Aifread taught him not to fear. I love the way he came to terms with it, the way he would rather live life to its fullest with the other pirates and one day die a dragon than be immortal forever just to be ‘safe’. I love that he obviously cares for his sister a lot, but despite that he has no intention of going back to live with her because he knows that his place is aboard the Van Eltia. It’s important, I think, for there to be characters that live for themselves and what they want from life than to have it all revolve around someone they love. I love how he interacts with Zaveid, how he fought so hard to save both Theodora and Zaveid. I love how he gave himself to save the world during the Death Edge period. I love his manzai bout with Magilou. I just really, really love this man a lot. Zaveid’s personality I’ve loved ever since Zestiria, but back then I lamented the lack of screentime and character development in the game. In Berseria, we get to see him so much more. I love the way he passionately defends the seirei. I love the way he tried to watch over Silver. I love the way he kept insisting that dragons are still the serei they once were. I love how he watched over the human children with Theodora. I love the way he interacted with Aizen, learning that there are different ways to look at death. I love how he fought alongside Eizen during the Death Edge period, and ultimately tried to follow up on his promise to take care of Eizen. And of course, during Zestiria… he tried to teach Edna what Eizen taught him, too. I don’t ship these two romantically, but I love them both and I want to see them interact more and I would fight to the death for either of them ;w;b2. LaphicetTHIS CHILD. When I first saw him I merely thought ‘oh it’s a cute shota how adorable’. He seemed to have a lot of potential, a blank slate that didn’t know anything, a person who has to learn how to live. I was a little apprehensive because I didn’t know how good the writing would be, and I worried a little bit that he’d not be as good as he could be.Thankfully, Berseria wrote him wonderfully. He went from “I’m not supposed to have opinions” to “THESE ARE MY OPINIONS AND NOTHING WILL STAND IN MY WAY” in a beautiful story arc. Unlike some of the other seirei like Zaveid, who went from normal to 0 to normal due to Kanonushi’s power, Phi was born already controlled, so he really had no idea what it was like outside Teresa’s control. He learnt that from Velvet and the party, though there were multiple obstacles including Velvet’s occasional meltdown “THIS IS AN ORDER”. I was waiting for the moment when he’d stand up against Velvet for what he believed in, and I wasn’t disappointed. The scene where he yelled at Velvet and demanded for her not to give up was a most amazing scene. I loved him for becoming Maotelus to protect the world that he had learnt to love, even though it was heartbreaking ;_;Aside from that, he’s adorable, and kind-hearted, and hilarious, particularly when bugs are involved. Protect Laphicet 2k17. 3. VelvetThe only thing I dislike about this lady now it’s probably her default clothes. I can’t stand them. She spent my entire playthrough dressed in her villager outfit. =w=;;I was also very apprehensive about Velvet because she had a lot of potential… but could also go horribly wrong. I saw her as a Sasuke type; an avenger who was consumed by revenge. There’s so much room for character growth that, if done well, her entire journey would be excellent. But if badly handled, she’d end up as boring and problematic as Sasuke. Fortunately, the game managed her beautifully. She did start her journey with a narrow minded “I must kill Artorius” goal, and kept that mindset for quite a long time. But she did begin to realise that she was doing essentially what Artorius did; that her coldblooded road to vengeance was nowhere near any kind of goodness, despite how she was so angsty about Artorius being the true evil that deceived everyone. I loved her entire breakdown scene; she was going crazy, and it was so carefully crafted. Although I had originally hoped that she’d have to pick between continuing with her revenge and deciding to live for the sake of those who still live (like Laphicet), what I received in the end with her revenge itself being rendered unnecessary was still quite good. Finally, I loved her for acknowledging that she had committed so many crimes while ‘saving the world’, and that she would atone for it by going into eternal slumber with Laphi, to protect the world that she had caused so much harm to. Very few games do this (there should have been a part in Graces F where Richard has to deal with having been a bad guy, instead of the whole world just going OH IT’S K WE FORGIVE YOU NO HARM DONE), and though it’d have been nice if she could live with Phi through the years, I think it was a great end to her journey. Much love for this protagonist who was clearly and wonderfully written.4. Eleanor and RokurouI wasn’t very fond of Eleanor at first, because her character archetype didn’t appeal to me. But she was the first to get her character development clearly. She reminded me a great deal of Flynn; blindly following orders because that was all that she had known. As the days passed with the party, she slowly came to see that her whole world might be a lie, and she was honest enough to decide that she wanted to see everything through, to find out what was the truth behind Artorius and the seirei. This has to be the first time that a ‘traitor’ character gave up the betrayal before it even happened, and I laughed a lot at that XD I appreciate her well-written relationship with Velvet, and her bond with Laphicet, even though it started out as ‘I HAVE TO PROTECT THIS CHILD BECAUSE IT IS MY DUTY’. Rokurou was the other way round. I loved his character from the start because he made puns and he did jokes and he was fairly open and honest, contrasting with Velvet and Laphicet. He was the first to show immediate care and concern for Laphicet, despite his “I am a gouma I have no feelings” drivel. Which I felt was a problem as the story went on. His character writing (or lack there of) wasn’t coherent at all, and there was so much potential for him to have been an excellent character. But instead, as even his seiyuu acknowledged, he was kind of shunted to the side. The entire thing with Shigure and Kurogane could have been handled much better. Ultimately, he fell from grace for me. :6. Laphicet Crowe/KanonushiA very fascinating character. It’s been years since any game has managed to overwhelm me with a plot twist; usually I can predict what happens in the plot. But at his first appearance as Kanonushi I literally sat up straight in my chair with a HOLY CRAP WHAT because it was /that/ unexpected. I loved the way he was written, how he was shown through the prologue (and Velvet’s POV) to be such an innocent, endearing character… and yet through the narrative later we’re shown that there’s far more to him that she never saw. It’s hard to say if the Kanonushi we see is still Laphicet Crowe, or if they’re two separate people, but it’s a fact that before his ‘death’, Laphi did think and say all of that stuff to Artorius. I can never call Phi Laphi anymore even though those who haven’t played the game are still doing so as a term of endearment ;w; 7. Dyle, Van Aifread, Benwick Dyle is my all time favourite monster NPC. He’s hilarious, and I love his gentle concern for Moana. Off the top of my head, him going “I WONDER IF THAT WAS MY ANCESTOR” when he was born a human cracked me up really hard. I’m really glad he ended up adopting Moana. Aifread is a great character, though we don’t see much of him. I liked his story with Eizen in the light novel, and I love his personality. I also love how he says that one of Eizen’s biggest failing is his refusal to introduce Edna to him XDBenwick is another adorable child. I love the way he’s written as a part of the storyline, the way he speaks to Velvet and the others throughout the plot of his own accord. He’s not just there to fill a Ship-chauffeur role, he’s there as a member of your party. I love the way he and the other pirates leaped to rescue Aifread, even though it was pretty stupid of them to do so ^^; 8. Seres/CelikaShe was a great sister. Again, it’s hard to say if Seres and Celika are the same people or two separate beings. If Seres had gotten control of her mind without the memories of Celika, would she be Celika? We’ll never know.But because she was a blank slate when she recovered Celika’s memories, I choose to believe that the being Seres was shaped by Celika’s experiences and feelings. And I loved her for believing in Velvet, for wanting to help Velvet stop Arthur. 9. MagilouHonestly, the only reason she’s here and not all the way at the bottom is because she makes me laugh sometimes, like during the manzai subevents. Magilou’s writing was messy, she got her entire ‘backstory and development’ within a single scene (much like Dezel’s was) and I honestly couldn’t care anything for it. She was the biggest disappointment for me, because I cannot find it within myself to care for someone with such shoddy writing. Even all through her heroic moment of Crowning Glory (or both times, actually), I didn’t feel anything for her at all. 10. Or & Toros, Percival,KuroganeDOGS. LOVE DOGS. LOVE THEIR LOYALTY. Prince is also kind of ok. But he was kinda nice. Also love his gryphon. Kurogane was likable, but didn’t really get a lot of screen time. I liked the idea of him using his own self as material to craft, but I wish that had gotten better developed.Let me also use this space to say I love the way the Aifread pirates + the ‘hostages’ interact. I always talk to every single NPC when I’m at base 8D; 11. Artorius, Shigure, Medisa, MoanaThe main reason Artorius is here instead of higher is because I don’t really care for him personally, but his writing is actually pretty great. He was wonderfully developed as a character, and throughout the game you get to see how he clearly grew to become Artorius the Antagonist from Arthur the good guy (which doesn’t always happen cough Heldalf). Shigure is kind of wrapped up in Rokurou’s messy underwhelming writing as well. And aside from that I also don’t care for him much. Medisa is a pain and I disliked how she was given a 180 simply because MOANA DAUGHTER SUBSTITUTE. It might have worked if she had been properly developed. Moana is here because I really don’t like childish immature selfish children. Yes, I get that they’re kids, it’s normal for them to act this way. But they still annoy the hell out of me each time they whine. And in terms of writing, she’s pretty unrealistic half the time…. 12. Oscar, Teresa, Melchior, BienfuThese people =w=Oscar and Teresa are not badly written. They’re pretty good. But they’re also terribly selfish human beings, and I just dislike their characters. Melchoir is a lot less developed than them, and he’s an asshole. Bienfu is just annoying from start to end and I found nothing to like about him whatsoever. =w=;;And that’s it. Sorry for the spam; I hadn’t realised it’d get this long ^^;

#tales of berseria spoilers #tob spoilers #/#//#///#berseria #tales of

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blackhoneybadger75 · 6 years

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I was watching a video by my second favorite you-tuber The Black Authority. In it, he was talking about the Good Morning America interview that was done by Jeremiah and his mother, Someko Harvey. The Black Authority blasted her for forcing her son to forgive Teresa Klein for falsely accusing him of sexual assault. He also blasted other women for asking of the whereabouts of Jeremiah’s father. While I watched TBA’s video I hadn’t watched the GMA video. This morning on my way to work I watched it. Besides getting choked up at the emotions of both him and his mother, something else hit me. The message hit me hard right between the eyes. This mother doesn’t want Jeremiah to become another Trayvon or Tamir. The root reason she gave the interviewer is that as a woman of GOD she has to show Jeremiah the right way to live and to forgive others. She even mentioned that she spoke to Jeremiah about Emmett Till. But anyone who lives with the trauma that we live with could see that she just didn’t want to bury her son. In that alone, my heart goes out to her. But as we all must do I had to harden my heart. Even though I can see and feel her pain, and what she did to her son was in her own powerless way to try to protect him, she squelched his natural feelings by making him forgive. It was hard to watch and the bottom line is, pale people, don’t care if we forgive them. How does forgiving them for anything make us somehow better than them? We have to stop thinking like that. It doesn’t make us better, and in the end, are we really forgiving them, or are we just pushing our own natural feelings of anger and resentment down so we can try to shuffle on with our lives? When we say, “I forgive you” are we really saying, “I’m better than you, and I now have the moral high ground?” How does the moral high-ground help you when you are looking at the end of a barrel with a pale policeman holding it? How does it help you when you have to send your son to school or to the store knowing he may not come home and there isn’t anything that you can do about it. How does the moral high-ground help your sons face the fact that no matter what he does, no matter what area of this place he lives in, no matter what educational or career goals he attains, he is still a black man, public enemy number one and there isn’t a damn thing that he can do about it. What she has done to her son angers me to no end. It also saddens me because there is one thing she didn’t ask herself. She didn’t look at the evidence and she never asked, “does it work?” There is an overwhelming amount of evidence that screams NO!

Black mother’s attempt to make their sons less threatening so that they don’t have to bury them. What she doesn’t realize is that there is nothing she can do to make him less threatening. Nothing she can do to not bury her baby. It is inevitable, ala Smith. We are all living our lives waiting for Zimmerman. This mother just happened to have pushed that issue at the forefront so that we can all see it.

It saddens me to no end that Trayvon Martin isn’t here anymore. The same goes for anyone of us who died at the end of a gun by the hands of the police, not just now but throughout all of history. But like the sinking of the Lusitania, galvanized those in power into action, we must let the deaths of our brothers and sisters galvanize us. Those people didn’t die for no reason. Don’t let their deaths, or the possibility of your baby boy’s death, be in vain. Their senseless deaths need to be the fuel that puts us, all of us into action. There are going to be casualties along the way in this war for justice. That’s why its called war. Cowardice will only bring us daily death. You can only die once so why not make your death count.

The deaths of Tamir, Philando, Mike Brown, Freddy Gray, and countless others were a wake-up call to many, including my favorite you-tuber’s who once thought that we were all one race or at least thought that things for us were getting better. That there is no racism. Don’t let the death of another black body, keep you afraid and showing your belly to the pale people. They have shown us that they will stop at nothing to keep us where we are, isolated and afraid. They like it that you will forgive them at the drop of a hat. They like it that the brainwashed, bastardized religion that they gave us still keeps us in the same place that they want us. Don’t get me wrong I believe in God. But the God I pray to DOES NOT want me to be a supplicant to these pale bastards. He doesn’t want us to be weak-willed, nor does he want us to beg those pale bastards for our lives or the lives of those we cherish. If you are afraid, I understand, believe me, I do. In the cold dark of night with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company I too feel that fear. But you can do one of two things with that. You can 1. Let it overtake you so that at the end of your life you will have done nothing but infect those around you with it and made everyone you love into cowards or 2. You can turn that fear into cold, righteous anger. You can let that anger infuse your every interaction when it comes to the pale people. Meaning when you work with them, never forget that the ones you are around in your daily life owe you their cushy existence. When you see them out and about spending money like it grows on trees, remember it was your ancestors that paved the way for them to have that life. If you see the police, remember their ancestors, the slave catchers, who would catch your ancestors and beat them nearly to death, then turn them over to the slave masters who in turn used the whipping machine on them. They may have used it so much that their skin fell off their body like water. Remember what the coroner said about Freddie Gray’s neck and spine? That it felt like sand. Remember the scars, physical and emotional that they put our ancestors and by proxy us through.

Do you remember the moment you woke up and realized you were different? The moment you realized that you were black and it didn’t matter how beautiful you were, how smart and talented you were, how open and free your heart was, you were still black and they still hated you. Never, never forget that. I used to ask why, why do they hate us so much? The answer my brothers and sisters, is that it doesn’t matter why. They just do. So what do you do with that? Protect and defend your own until it is your turn to die. Turn those tears of frustration this is sitting in your heart and the ire that is in your mind and begin to what I’m doing. Thinking. I’m thinking of how to get justice by any means necessary. This has turned me into literally, an angry black woman. If that little boy didn’t want to forgive that woman, (I won’t call her by name because she didn’t have the decency to find out or remember his name) that is the right way to feel. But his mom is so afraid of losing her baby that she imparted that fear onto him. If she is not careful she will turn him into Darrion Toles, without really wanting to or meaning to. I respect the work that he has done for his community but I don’t respect his forgiveness politics. As for Someko, we really don’t know her intentions nor should we try to figure them out. What we need to do is like The Black Authority is to give her a pull-up. Let her know that being that fearful is fine but use it to fuel instead of letting it keep you stagnant. I think I loved when he said this the best, “And all of you asking where is the father is, he’s right here!! I nearly jumped out of my seat and screamed YAAAASSSS!!!!

I know that fear can stop you, but you need to know to that they are also afraid, which is why they attack us in groups as well as shoot first and ask questions later. It is their sheer fear of losing their dominance that makes them attack us. They know that the clock is winding down on their time as the dominant group. This regime, just like spoiled dairy products, has not only an end date, but it will expire. And I still believe in us. We can and will war for justice and we will win. As the brother Pharaoh Said That stated in his video, “African American’s shouldn’t move to Africa without a Black Military” Part One, We are already soldiers. And if you have learned any real history from watching the pale people, we should use what they have done against them to win our war. If all 43 million of us rise up and use that fear to again galvanize us and turn that fear into a cold fury, we will be unstoppable. I believe in us. Don’t you? If you don’t, that’s fine, but let me as your sister, show you some galvanizing images that should start that cold fire in the middle of your chest. Please forgive any copyrighted photos. If any of the artists have a problem I will happily remove them.

I need you to remember that we were nothing but two-legged horses to them.

Horses that at the end of slavery the skin on our backs was worth $100 billion(yes with a b) Horses that built the country as you see it today and created industries worth billions of dollars. Horses that we used against each other, in order to get better positions as coons on the plantation, (Whas tha matter masa, we sick?)

Horses that if not put on regular plantations, were put on stud farms to make bigger better versions of ourselves no matter if the person we were made to stud with was related to us.

Overseer Artayou Carrier whipped me. I was two months in bed sore from the whipping. My master come after I was whipped; he discharged the overseer. The very words of poor Peter, taken as he sat for his picture. Baton Rouge, La., April 2, 1863. (War Dept.) NARA FILE #: 165-JT-230 WAR & CONFLICT BOOK #: 109

If the images that I have shown you here are too graphic for you I really don’t care. If the first thing that pops into your mind is we need to forget about what was, has, and is still being done to us then I want to impart a little wisdom to you. Drop a little jewel on you that I hope you will take with you and put it in your heart like I have. A very wise and beautiful brother once told me something that I think he might have made a video on. Forgiveness is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight. There are certain steps that need to be followed on both sides, the forgiver and the forgiven. The forgiven have to take accountability for their actions. For example, “I’m sorry that I did “X” to you. I am truly sorry for not only the action but how it made you feel. Here is what I will do to recompense you for what I have done” The Forgiven then proceeds to lay out an action plan, processes that they will put into place to ensure that the wrong that was done to you will never happen again. When the actions are done, then the Forgiver forgives. NOT BEFORE!!!!!! Can I ask you something? In all the years since the abolition of slavery, when and where did the pale people mention their regret for the actions that were committed? Could it have been when they enacted the 13th Amendment? Nope. The Convict Leasing System? Nope. Oh, I know! They did it when they dropped bombs from the sky in Tulsa? Nope! How about when they began Redlining? No. Maybe it was when they blew up four little girls in a church? No. How about when Dylan Roof shot those people in the church? No, he didn’t ask forgiveness nor did he want it. What he wanted was to end those people’s lives. And he succeeded in his mission and was even given fast food for his treachery. So you point out to me in the comments when and where pale people have asked for forgiveness and then put processes in place in order to make sure that the steps to forgiveness can start and we as a people can begin to heal. So to sum up the person has to WANT FORGIVENESS. Show me where they wanted us to forgive them. No, they want us to forget that their cushy lives have been sponsored by our pain. That we are the reason that there is a one percent. That this country and the financing of many countries was built on our backs ala Cookie. “You built this company on my back.”

JUST A LITTLE MESSAGE TO SOME WHO DON’T BELIEVE WE HAVE A JUSTICE CLAIM OR A WAR TO FIGHT

I need for those who don’t believe we have a claim for justice to hear what I say and take it in the spirit that it is meant. Those of you who believe we should move on with our lives or believe that all pale people aren’t bad or are consistently putting out the message of black-on-black crime, or feel that we have been given enough breaks through affirmative action, rights given to us through the civil rights movement, or even believe that respectability is still the way to go, even though there is a great deal of evidence that states the contrary, go about your business. Meaning that if you don’t feel we have a claim to justice and all that that represents, that’s ok. Do me a favor though. The next time something happens to you at the hand of a pale person, for example, they call the police on you for being black and breathing(yes, that is a crime now if you didn’t know) Puts their hands on you for an illogical reason, etc, don’t cry out to the collective that it is racism. Don’t post the video if you happen to capture the act, to any social media, don’t attempt to get any attention from the black collective at all. Just shrug your shoulders and chalk it up to the cost of doing business. Yes, the cost of sexual access to the pale people(because that is why you are decrying that we don’t have a justice claim is because you have your snow queen or king or because you have financial access to them that you think puts you on an even playing field) is sometimes your dignity or your life. But hey remember that as you are breathing your last breath on the pavement as the slave catchers, oops I mean police officers have snuffed your life out for some reason unknown to you, that this is you paying the cost of doing business. And instead of us coming to your rescue crying out we need justice for insert your name here, you will hear crickets as you let out your last gasp. Because when we put out the call to arms to fight for justice for all of us, that is exactly what we heard from you.

YOU ARE BLACK!! NOT CHRISTIAN, JEWISH, MUSLIM, HEBREW ISRAELITE, FOOTBALL PLAYER, MUSICIAN, ETC.

When I began reading about the story of Jeremiah Harvey having been interviewed on GMA, the first thing I saw after reading his name was the phrase, “a black boy.” That phrase brought to mind a snippet of a conversation that The Black Authority had in his movie “Race Wars” with Richard Spencer, the founder of the term Alt-Right. He told us himself many times and in many different ways that “Identity is at the foundation of everything and that race is the foundation of everything.” While I, unfortunately, don’t like to agree with Mr. Spencer on this I agree. I’ll give you another example. Let’s say that the police pull you over and arrest you because of you “fitting the description.” Well, what is the description? The first descriptor that they use is either, “black man or boy or black woman or girl. Meaning what? Well whether you want to be seen that way or not sweet babies, that is what you are. YOU ARE BLACK!!! I will give you another example. I am not an American DOS. My mother and father are Black Panamanian immigrants. Although I was born here in the 70’s I was told by my own family divisively that I was an American. Then later they told me that I wasn’t, I was a Black Latino. As you can see my sense of belonging was thrown off immensely. Because according to my family I wasn’t an African American, yet I wasn’t really a Panamanian either. I have never been to Panama and my mother when I was young because of what she went through with our family associated her feelings of Panama with the bad memories of our family. So she created a life for herself that didn’t involve Panamanian roots. Throughout my own life and into adulthood I had feelings of not really knowing where I fit in. Hearing the word “nigger” when referenced to me, and reading and studying the history of American DOS and how we have been treated and then experiencing the perils of whiteism for myself, and realizing that if the police pull me over and take my life, at the end of the day it’s not going to matter whether I’m Afrolatino or African American. When the police pull me over, what they will see? A BLACK WOMAN! When I look in the mirror, what do I see? A BLACK WOMAN. Yes, I know my parents have Spanish first names Guillermina and Jose, and yes, during my twenties, I would say in a heartbeat, I’m not black, I am Panamanian. But you, as BLACK American DOS know more than anyone else why I would say that. It was because I got the message early that being black, being anything but white or as close to white as I could possibly get, ie, light-skinned, smooth long curly hair and light eyed was somehow wrong. Somehow being a little dark-skinned girl with tiny tightly coiled black hair and dark brown eyes was somehow not beautiful. Hell, I spent most of my life trying to look anything other than what I am, and it took the love and support of a wonderful black man to give me a mirror and show me that I am what I am. A gorgeous soulful, sassy BLACK WOMAN!!!. Yes my beautiful BLACK American DOS I identify as one of you. Although I know that if the justice claim was answered I wouldn’t get any reparations, that doesn’t stop me from believing that you should get what your ancestors fought, worked and died for. It doesn’t stop me from fighting for what is right. I’m ready to fight and die for what is yours. Why aren’t you?

Jeremiah Harvey is the Reason that I Do What I Do I was watching a video by my second favorite you-tuber The Black Authority. In it, he was talking about the Good Morning America interview that was done by Jeremiah and his mother, Someko Harvey.

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