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won't lie gang I think it's very interesting how manousos posed the question on how cruel it is to value a man the same as an ant and how some people feel more about the baby goat in episode 9 no longer having a caretaker than, you know, the loss of an entire culture or a human life that's been taken
Silas my beloved
Saw a cute muse on twitter and instantly thought of these clueless goobers😆 (My first drawing to finally have skin tones too)
Ohh I think I saw that drawing trend! I rarely catch up with those so its nice to see someone doing art memes with those two!!
4NG3LM41L noticed whatever this was on the ground, and picks it up, clearly intrigued
✉️: “Oh? What’s this..?”
Its interesting to think about anger as a secondary emotion with my ocs because so many of them are deeply deeply angry, but its born from emotions like love, grief, fear, loss and injustice. Muro & Co are glued together because each of them at some point had dreams, had visions of a better world they were determined to make a reality, even if it just meant being able to eat till they were full or see their siblings graduate. But their dreams were violently torn from their hands and they each chose to dedicate their lives to tearing back any scraps of a better world they could, at any cost, to themselves or others. They have all sworn vengeance in their own way on the world and the anger is a sign of that, determination born of grief and injustice
Its an interesting throughthread ive noticed in my jjba ocs. Few of them are defined by anger, but at the same time they are all defined by grief and how they use anger to fuel and protect them as they keep on fighting for something better, inch by inch so yeah... but well I mean thats the title of the first arc, Rage rage against the dying of the light, and thats what they do. Along the way they loose and find themselves, betray and aid each other, all their actions born from a righteous fury at the worlds cruelty and a spite fueled determination to go down swinging.
Okay, tempted to explore an au of Janna/Cassandra now lmao
bro when paul mescal cries that motherfucker CRIES
Prompt: usuk, Arthur's the captain of a merchant ship and Al works on the docks!
Ask and ye shall receive 😌
Words: 1459
For Arthur Kirkland, the sea had always been a siren. Ever since he was a boy living near the beaches of England, the waves had entranced him, wind whipping through his sandy coloured hair as he stared out at the tides. The smell of salt thick in the air, the feeling of his cheeks turning rosy due to the expected ocean cold even on the hottest of summer days. The burn of said salty air travelling to his lungs; the thrill of it.
Convincing dear old dad to turn his business into an international trade was hard but, by God, was it worth it.
When Arthur had gone to him at sixteen with piles of papers and research, after a decade and a half yearning for the waves, he’d never expected his father would say yes. Who would send their teenager to the sea, so much of which was unknown? No one with sense. But, Arthur had inherited the Kirkland stubbornness and, after hours of drilling his tiring father, he’d finally been given the go ahead to take hold of some of his father’s stocks, invest in some ships, and turn their family trading business global.
His father seemed to relax a little more when their profits had doubled in the first six months alone. Then tripled the next year, and the year after that, and so on. Eventually, his father’s attitude was completely shifted. The teenage son he’d sent out to sea had grown up. Now, he claimed with upmost pride that his son, Captain Arthur Kirkland, was an inspiring and hardworking young entrepreneur, just as he himself had been. Arthur was successful. He certainly didn’t have a bad word to say about him when asked by friends and rivals alike, or the daughters of other wealthy businessmen or even nobles. Arthur had a bright future, was as quick with his wit and gentlemanly charm as he was with transactions, and he certainly had inherited the handsome Kirkland genes, too. Oh, Mr Kirkland was sure Arthur was to bring forth even greater fortune. Not a bad word to say at all.
Little did he know, however- Arthur did not care for the money- Well, not a lot. Or women. Not that his father needed to know that. The power was nice, freeing, captivating- Being able to tell an entire crew to jump and each one of them, in earnest, would say ‘how high’? They would lick his very boots if he deemed it necessary. But what he really cared for was moments like this.
This, where Arthur stands on the mast of his ship, looking up at the sun, hand only just covering his eyes from the brightness. His grin is wide, putting dimples into his slightly freckled cheeks. He looks over the ocean view just as they’re sailing towards a group of islands. Arthur has been here a couple times before, but it was certainly always a sight. The Caribbean had always felt like a second home- The warm climate and clear aqua coloured waters didn’t hurt either.
It doesn’t take long to pull into one of the shipyards. Arthur waits until the last of his crew with duties to see to on land are off the boat before making his descent, dropping with a thud onto the wooden deck. He smiles again at the sound of bustling streets admits crashing waves on golden beaches, the squawk of birds soaring over ships and palm trees.
The buckles of his boots clink as he strides down the boat ramp, pausing at the base to look over at the crowded shipyard. People scurry left and right, some moving cargo, some preparing to board fishing boats, some surveying the various treasures lying amongst the merchant stalls that litter the docks.
One of the stalls catches the Captain’s eyes. Not for the treasures, though. At least not the inanimate kind. This treasure was a man- A man who certainly passed as a treasure in Arthur’s fine opinion. His hair was as golden as the coin Arthur spent his days collecting, eyes as blue as sapphires in the finest of jewellery, and his complexion a lovely bronze colour- All gold and jewels and metal. A remarkable find indeed. If people were the treasures that pirates and such sought, this man would be a pirate’s wet dream. Well, Arthur wasn’t a pirate, but he was a Captain and, surely, didn’t Captains get the best treasures?
He saunters over, lets his finger caress over some of the items on the stall, though his eyes are busy analysing the hint of muscle under a tight-fitted shirt, upper arms plentiful with thew and flexing with every move the seller makes. They lock eyes and Arthur turns his gaze down, picking out a ring. It’s made from gold, encrusted with two gems in the middle: a sapphire on top, an emerald on the bottom. There’s a second one next to it, this one with the gems switched in position, the emerald above, the sapphire below. Arthur’s never thought blue and green worked well together, but perhaps he should start to- They did compliment one another. Similar, but different enough to each shine brightly in their own right. The thought was…Nice, freeing, captivating. Familiar and new all at once. Arthur was usually a man of lust, but perhaps love was just as powerful. Well, it’s too early to say love, but certainly the possibility of love at least. Now that was intriguing- Worth exploring, was it not? Any good Captain explored the unknown, and Arthur was not just a good Captain, he was a successful one.
“They come as a pair,” The merchant says. He reaches over picking up the second ring. His thumb runs over the gems, eyeing the emerald intently. “I think sapphire would suit you.”
“And emerald, you.” Arthur replies.
The man’s lips curl upwards slightly. “I’m not the one buying.”
“A shame, really. You’d look good with green on you.”
The merchant laughs, makes sure Arthur’s eyes lock with his again by tilting his own head down into the shorter man’s line of sight playfully. “You English?”
“What gave it away?” Arthur’s own mouth curls upwards. “What about you? Where’s your accent from?”
“The New World.”
“Oh,” Arthur looks intrigued. “I’ve been a couple times, haven’t heard an accent like yours yet.”
The merchant shrugs. “Should’ve met me sooner then.” His grin is confident, and he leans forward against the table. “I’m Alfred, Alfred F. Jones.”
“F?”
“Freedom.”
Arthur pauses, eyeing him. “Freedom?”
“My folks were the kind to make a statement.” He shrugs again.
Arthur makes a sound halfway between a scoff and a chuckle. “I see…Arthur Kirkland.” The Brit raises his hand, Alfred takes it firmly- Strong grip, lovely fingers.
“Like the trading company?”
“Precisely. My apologies, perhaps I should’ve been clearer- I’m Captain Arthur Kirkland, of the Kirkland Trading Co.”
“Oooo, Captain? Fancy.”
“And you, what do you do?”
“Usually help the ships dock and sail. I’m only on this stall to fill in for a friend- They’re uh- Busy at the moment. Shouldn’t be gone much longer, though.”
“Busy how?”
“They’re being visited by a gentleman.”
“The owner of this stall is a woman?”
“No, a man.”
“I see,” Arthur hums, looking around them. Everyone's far too busy to be listening in. "Do you have any gentlemanly friends?"
"No," Alfred eyes trail over Arthur, hardly discreet at all. "But you seem like a gentleman."
"I am- Both literally and...Metaphorically speaking."
"Good to know," Alfred reaches forward and takes the ring from Arthur. His hand brushes against the Brit's and his fingers truly are lovely. He stares straight at Arthur, eyes piercing. "Like I said, my friend should be back soon. If you're interested in the merchandise, I'd be happy to deliver it to you later when I've spoken to the owner."
"I certainly am interested in the merchandise." The corner of Arthur's mouth tugs upwards into a smirk. "I suppose I'll see you this evening."
"I suppose you will." Alfred grins, winking. Arthur's not so sure his heart doesn't stop at that. He clears his throat, moving from the table.
"I do actually want the rings."
"Of course, Captain." God- Alfred was as teasing as he was confident, apparently- Cocky but in a glorious way that had Arthur stirring. The word fits his mouth beautifully, rolls from his tongue and drips from his lips. Arthur wonders how it would sound without such confidence, when Alfred was desperate and begging. That was a wonderful thought indeed.
Arthur bids a sweet goodbye and walks back towards his ship, a slight bounce in his step as he eagerly waits for the sun to set. What a beautiful evening it was going to be.
