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soapsilly · 10 months

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Betrayal - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: It's been two years since the straw hats got seperated by Bartholomew Kuma. Two years since (Y/N) and Zoro have last seen each other but when the day finally came to reunite things didn't quite play out like they had envisioned.

Requests are closed

Part 2 Part 3

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It wasn't love at first sight. Not at all. It wasn't like they disliked each other either - far from it actually. When the Straw Hats picked her up, it didn't take long for (Y/N) to make friends with almost the whole crew. When they arrived on her little autumn island it didn't take much convincing for them to make her part of the crew. She liked her little home outside of the village but she was never part of it. The Straw Hats found (Y/N) when they made a stop at the island for supplies. Whilst Nami and Sanji stormed to the market in the search for pretty things and food supplies respectively, Zoro and Luffy wandered into the next bar for drinks and meat - also respectively. That left Chopper and Usopp on the look out for medicinal herbs and whatever else was needed for Usopp's ammunition. When they asked the townspeople they told them about the witch that lived outside the village. The villagers usually avoided her unless they needed something - which made (Y/N) a rather lonely person. When Chopper and Usopp told their captain about what they've heard, Luffy was immediately excited. So the whole crew made their way up the hill to the hut where the alleged witch was located.

Once they arrived, Chopper immediately went for the flowers and herbs that grew in the garden infront of the little house.

"I wouldn't touch those. Most of them are poisonous", the girl that came out of the house didn't look like a witch at all. No warts, no hooked nose, not even a witchy hat or black boots. In fact, she was young and -

"Beautiful!", the tall, blond guy was at her side at an instant. He took her hand in his and starred deeply into her eyes, "my name is Sanji and you are?"

"(Y/N)", she giggled.

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It was easy for (Y/N) to make friends with the crew - well most of them. Luffy was a friendly guy by nature so no problem there, Sanji was swooned as soon as she stepped out of her house, Nami was just happy to have another girl on the ship and Chopper was happy about the few healing balms and herbs she could provide him with - even though he had hoped for more when he saw the densely vegetated garden in front of the witch's house. Much to his dismay most of them were poisonous plants, not because she planned something foul but rather just because she liked them the most. Usopp wasn't as easy to win over as he seemed to be rather sceptical of strangers, but as she handed him some ammunition for his sling shot she finally gained his sympathy. The first batch was a little too strong for Usopps liking - lethal to be specific - but after careful calibration, whoever was hit fell into a temporary paralysis, much to Zoro's dismay who quickly became Usopp's favourite victim for target practice.

The swordsman however was a different story. He wasn't outright mean to her but no matter how much she tried, how many smiles she sent his way or how many attempts at small talk she started, he just didn't seem to care. She didn't take offence to that though. She still enjoyed his company whilst the crew sat down for dinner or during their excursions to different islands. It was during those times that she noticed his abysmal sense of direction, his affinity for hard liquor and his dislike for a certain curly-eyebrowed cook. She always enjoyed the seemingly pointless fights that the two would get themselves into. It's not that she disliked either of them - quite the contrary in fact - she grew rather fond of both of the men even if one of them didn't want much to do with her and the other wanted a little too much. It was rather that entertainment on deck was scarce and they never really hurt each other in a serious way anyways - so no harm, no foul .

One night after dinner when most of the crew went on to do their separate things, (Y/N) decided to try it again with Zoro.

"Is it your turn to keep watch tonight?", she asked as she approached him on deck.

He looked at her for a few seconds but decided to answer her anyways. "No, I think it's Usopp and that shitty cook tonight"

That's just what the girl wanted to hear. "Great!"

He sent her a suspicious squint but let her continue.

"You like alcohol" - she stated and as if to confirm her statement he lifted his cup, which was already filled with some kind of liquor - "I got us some", she continued.

"I got my own", he grunted.

"This one's better. Believe me, I made it", she grinned.

"You made this?"

"Yep"

"Yourself?"

"Yep"

"With your poison plants? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Yep.... Well, no", she sighed, "it's really good. In a low dosage it has a euphoric effect. I usually drink it as a tea but I made it as a drink.. for us to share?"

The green haired man contemplated for a moment but then shrugged and held out his cup for her to fill.

After the first sip, he let the taste linger for a second and then decided to chug the whole thing before (Y/N) could protest.

"I like it. Give me another cup"

"What? No! This is stronger than normal sake. It's not supposed to be downed. You can't have another one so soon after the first"

"I don't feel a thing. I can handle it. Give me another"

She thought for a moment. What was the worst thing that could happen?

"Only if you drink this one slowly..."

He sent her a short nod, indicating his approval.

So for a while they sat there in silence sipping their drinks with the occasional question here and there.

"So, you're a witch, huh?"

"Me? Nah.. The townspeople liked to say that because I like to do tarot card readings and sold them potions and healing balms. There's nothing magical about it but rumours spread fast in such a little village"

"Why didn't you correct them?"

"I don't care. I made money off of it", she shrugged.

They both fell into silence again but it felt comfortable. She could feel the slight buzz already forming and by the glow on Zoro's cheeks, she could see that the drink started to have it's effect on him too.

"I wouldn't mind another drink, you know", he grinned at her mindlessly.

It was late already but (Y/N) didn't feel like cutting the time with Zoro short. Who would've thought that the way into a man's heart was freshly distilled alcohol?

Just as she was about to fill their cups yet another time, Sanji made his way patrolling around the ship. Only the sight of the cook was enough to make Zoro clench his jaw.

"What's your problem with Sanji?", she found the interaction hilarious.

"You wouldn't understand anyways. That talentless ero-cook..."

"Hey.. he might be a pervert, but his food is amazing!", she scolded the moss-head.

"You don't seem to mind the way he dances around you and Nami", he huffs.

"No, I think it's kinda nice actually but I wouldn't put too much thought into it", she shrugged, "he can't control himself around women. I wouldn't fall for a guy like that"

"Hah!", the swordsman seemed to like hearing that. One man's misfortune is another man's treasure. Especially if the first man happened to be a curly-browed cook.

The night went on and on and the more the two of them drank the more they opened up about their past, their dreams and aspirations. But since (Y/N)'s alcohol was indeed stronger than what Zoro was used to after a few more cups the deep conversations turned into silly jokes and stupid impressions, which was not unusual for (Y/N) at all but when Usopp told the others about what he saw in the morning neither wanted to believe Zoro had partaken aswell.

"I knew she was a real witch... She cast a spell on him", Chopper whispered.

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Since that night Zoro and (Y/N) would consider each other as friends. Neither would talk about it but during meal times they would sit by each other, during island walks they stayed with each other and during night patrol they kept each other company. And every now and again at night they would sit down on the deck with a bottle of (Y/N)'s liquor and repeat the first time they really talked to each other. And it was during those times that during a moonlit night they shared their first kiss. The next morning neither could say who it was, that initiated it but it didn't really matter anyways. For the most part nothing really changed between them and they never gave it a name but they never kept it a secret either.

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Zoro wasn't the same after Thriller Bark. He spent all his free time excercising and training without giving his body the time to properly heal.

"Zoro... please", she stood in the doorway of the crow's nest, "you need to heal"

He ignored her and just kept going.

"You heard what Chopper said. I'm worried about you"

Still no response.

"Damnit! Zoro, is your deathwish that big?", her voice was equal parts angry and sad, "how will you become the best swordsman in the world when you're dead?"

With a loud 'BANG' Zoro dropped his weight and turned to the girl in front of him, "I made a promise! Don't you understand I need to become stronger?"

(Y/N), of course knew about Zoro's past. She knew about Kuina and his promise to her but why did he have to be so stubborn?

"Is that promise more important than all of us? Your nakama?", she was on the verge of tears now.

"It's not just that", he yelled back. Why was she so stupid? "If I don't become stronger, I can't protect any of you"

"You can't protect us either if you're dead! And then you'll never be the world's best swordsman and I'll be alone again!", she screamed.

The Straw Hats could hear the fighting all the way down on deck. They were used to their fights being loud but this was different. Sanji was already half-way up the ladder to break up the fight, outraged that Zoro would dare to make (Y/N)-chan cry but Robin held him back telling him that there were some things that a couple needs to sort out themselves.

That night (Y/N) took the time to put a heap of pillows and blankets into the crow's nest to make it easier for him to relax a little. At first he refused to follow her at all but once she grabbed his hand and really stared into his eyes he realized how serious she was. Once she got him to settle in, she turned to leave but his voice stopped her.

"Stay", his voice was quiet, "please, stay"

She nodded and turned back to him. Usually she was the one to initiate closeness between the two, so moments like those were rare. Once she nestled into the mountains of pillows she heard his voice again.

"I'm sorry"

She was stunned. All the years and all the fights, she never heard him apologize to her before. She tried to say something but he continued.

"I know I'm stubborn, but the thought of not being strong enough to protect any of you kills me. I won't always have time to heal and when the time comes and we'll get attacked I will have to fight. And if anyone, especially you, gets hurt because I wasn't strong enough, I wouldn't be able to live with that"

The witch didn't know how to react to his confession. Instead she opted to brush her fingers to Zoro's green hair and soon after she could hear the deep snores of her lover.

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The Straw Hats were hopelessly at the mercy of marine admiral Kizaru. There was nothing they could do. All of them were battered and bruised already from the fight with the Kuma Androids and now (Y/N) had to witness Zoro collapse from one of the Admiral's attacks. In the distance she could hear Luffy scream his name. She knew it was too soon for a fight. Almost automatically she sprinted to the sprawled out form of her boyfriend. Once she reached him, there wasn't much time to spare. She grabbed his form and dragged his body away from the impending kick, that would kill him. Brook and Usopp tried to attack Kizaru while (Y/N) created some distance but in the blink of an eye the admiral stood above Zoro once again. One leg on his back, the other hovering above his head.

"I won't let you get away. It's no use", he said almost too calmly.

The thoughts inside of (Y/N)'s head were racing and before she knew what she was doing she threw herself over Zoro's exposed form.

"You fool. That won't save him. You'll die together", Kizaru laughed almost carelessly.

Her heart was racing and she felt the blood rushing in her ears, but she didn't dare to open her eyes.

"Get away!", she couldn't quite tell whose voice it was that reached her ears first but after the first exclamation another followed and another and another... but she only shook her head repeatedly tears streaming down her face.

"Go", Zoro's deep voice sounded raspy and like even that small little word hurt him immensely but (Y/N) only shook her head yet again not caring that the man beneath her could probably not even see it. But the deadly stomp never came. Instead, Rayleigh, Gol D. Roger's first mate, decided to come in and fight with admiral Kizaru himself.

"Grab Zoro and get out of there!", she heard Luffy yell. Usopp grabbed Zoro underneath his arm and dragged him out of the danger zone.

"You - You should have left", the swordsman tried to scold his girlfriend but his voice was weak.

"Can we fight about this once we're safely back on the Sunny, please?"

He tried to laugh, their bickering was one of his favourite things about their relationship but they never even got the chance to return to their home. Shortly after Kizaru, the real Kuma showed up and one after the other the Straw Hat Pirates disappeared.

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It's been two years since Kuma seperated the crew, two years since Luffy lost Ace, two years since Zoro has last seen (Y/N). But the time has finally come to reunite. Zoro was actually the first to arrive ten days ago. Shortly after the other Straw Hats arrived one after another. It was only the witch that was still missing. Zoro couldn't wait to tell her that not only did he arrive before her AND that shitty cook, he also arrived first overall. He decided to conveniently remain silent about the help of a certain Ghost Ghost Brat.

"Has anybody had any contact with (Y/N) in the last two years?", Nami asked the group but she only earned headshakes as a response. Zoro felt a touch of melancholy. He would never admit it infront of the crew but eventhough he had used every single day of those two years for training with Mihawk, he did miss her. And then just like that, there she was walking up the gangway.

Zoro felt like his heart skip a beat once he saw her fully. She didn't change much, she was still beautiful. So much infact, that the ero-cook almost bled out once she went to greet him. The only thing that changed were the many tattoos that littered her body - mostly her arms. Flowers, beetles, stars and moons.

She came up to him last but something was weird. He expected her to leap into his arms like she had done so often in the past. He never initiated PDA infront of others - or rather at all - but he never complain when she did it, but this time she just stood there.

"Zoro, your eye..."

For a second he felt insecure. He never paid the fresh scar that decorated his left eye any mind and he didn't think that (Y/N) would either.

"Are you okay?", she seemed worried.

He grunted as to confirm that he was fine.

"You look good", she sent him a reassuring smile.

For a while the two of them just stood there but then Luffy's loud voice pulled them out of the moment.

"So now that we're complete let's set sail!"

(Y/N) flinched and then looked panicked.

"Wait, no, no no. There's something I need to tell you guys"

The crew waited in silence for their friend to continue.

"I won't come be coming you"

It was quiet for a few secong before Luffy's booming laugh filled the space, clearly thinking she was joking but Zoro knew something was wrong. In all those years as a fighter he learned to observe high stress situations and this was one. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something was very wrong.

"Luffy... I'm not - I'm not joking", her voice was quiet.

Luffy abruptly stopped laughing. She didn't dare look up into the faces of her former crew mates in fears of what she might see but her decision has been made. It's not like she had much of a choice anyways.

"What's going on? Who's making you say this? Is someone threatening you?", Sanji asked. Even he mellowed out considering the tense situation. As much as he disliked the cook, Zoro approved of the questions, he knew she wouldn't leave them on her own accord.

"Nobody is threatening me and nobody is making me say this. I just can't - I don't... I will not be coming with you"

"But why?", Nami tried to reason with her.

"You guys don't understand. I have a home, a little house with a garden..."

"You can have a garden here on the Sunny...", Franky interjected.

"Whatever you'll need from your home, we'll get it on the way. Don't you worry about it", Luffy laughed, still not understanding how serious the situation was. Everybody was talking, asking questions, yelling suggestions but (Y/N) just kept shaking her head vehemently.

"Don't be an idiot. Just tell us what's going on", that was the first time Zoro spoke up. He had enough of the excuses. His voice cut through the noise like a sword and now all eyes laid on him.

"I had a child!", she yelled.

For a few heartbeats nothing and nobody on deck made a sound.

"A little boy to be specific", she continued, "I have a family now"

Zoro could've sworn there was a ringing sound that filled the air but the truth was, it was probably just the blood rushing through his ears.

"What?", Nami's voice sounded cold, mechanic even.

"I-"

"Don't!", (Y/N) had never seen Nami so enraged, "You found someone else? How could you do that? To us? To Zoro?"

"It's been two years...", the witch pleaded.

"So? So? None of us had any issues keeping it in our pants but you had to go and play house with the next best guy ?"

Nami's words hurt but (Y/N) knew that she deserved them. It was never her intention to hurt anybody - especially Zoro - but two years were a long time and a lot has changed.

(Y/N) looked around but the other Straw Hats avoided looking at her. Once her gaze landed on the spot where Zoro was leaning against the railing, she noticed that he was missing. She didn't know at what point he had left but she didn't blame him.

(Y/N) tried to say something but as soon as she opened her mouth Nami interrupted her.

"You should leave"

The other woman nodded and turned to say her goodbyes to the rest of the crew.

"So... Fish-Man Island, huh?", she sent Robin a little smile. The older woman was always so understanding even when the other person didn't really deserve it.

"Yes.. but first we'll have to make a stop at the next island over. Sabaody is full of marines, we didn't get all the supplies we needed, soooo if you change your mind ...", she suggested.

"I don't think Nami would let me live if I'll ever show my face around here again", she answered, "not that I could blame her"

"Give it some time", Robin hugged the younger woman as a farewell.

For a moment (Y/N) just stood there staring at the ladder to the crow's nest. But before she could even make an attempt to say her good-byes to Zoro Nami interjected.

"Don't you even dare. Don't think about it. Just leave."

(Y/N) was happy that Zoro had his friends that cared so much about him. Nami really cared about every single one of them - even if they sometimes drove her crazy. And if somebody hurt them, may it be their own nakama or anybody else, her mama-bear instinct kicked in. The boys always acted like the strongest, toughest warriors of the sea but deep down she knew they were idiots at heart. Her idiots.

"Nami-", the witch decided to try it a last time but the navigator only turned away from her former friend, signaling her that she doesn't have anything to say to her anymore.

As (Y/N) was walking down the gangway Usopp climbed up the crow's nest.

"Zoro... (Y/N) is leaving..."

But Zoro did not make a move. In fact, he didn't even react to Usopp at all. He just kept on exercising the way he usually does whenever anything is on his mind. In times like these, it was (Y/N), who would calm him down and get him to eat and even relax a little but now it was her that caused his isolation. He never felt the need to open up to anybody. Love was more of the ero-cook's thing even if he never actually had any success with the women he made his feeble attempts at. Zoro remembered how him and (Y/N) used to make fun of how much he was doing with so little payoff. He put some more weights on to get his mind away from the hurtful memory.

He would've never thought that she'd do something like that. Zoro wasn't the jealous type - never has been. Even when they were together the cook wouldn't stop flirting with (Y/N) but the swordsman was never worried. And whenever a slimey fool in the bars during their island journeys got a little too close for comfort, his girlfriend would easily send them away.

"I'd keep my hands to myself if I were you", she'd say, "Do you see that mosshead over there? He'll be the strongest swordsman in the world. You reeaally shouldn't bother his girlfriend"

His girlfriend...

Zoro shook his head. He was a fool. Of course, she'd find someone else. She basically always told him that she wasn't a person that could deal with being alone easily. That was probably the only reason she was ever with him to begin with. He put yet another set of weights on the barbell. She already said she wouldn't fall for Sanji. So was he just the next best option? But a whole family? A child? If it was just a new boyfriend, she could've surely left him after the two years. She could've come back to him. Zoro was so hopelessly in love with her, he wouldn't even care. But now she had a family. A family that she would never leave alone. She knew how much Robin suffered from losing her mother early. She wouldn't do that. Zoro let the weights drop to the floor with a loud 'BANG'. With all that thinking the swordsman however never once stopped to consider that his former partner made her choice not only out of obligation but rather because the truly was happier now...

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Epilogue

(Y/N) never felt as lost as the moment when she stepped off the Thousand Sunny. Within just a matter of moments she lost her family, her friends, her nakama. And even worse, she hurt someone, that she very deeply cared about. For a while she just stood there, thoughts rushing through her head. But whatever scenario she made up, there wasn't any other way. So after a few deep breaths she made her way back to her new home - back to the moss-headed boy, that reminded her so much of his father already.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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doberbutts · 9 months

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Anyway my gaming group made me feel really happy with the choices I've made in my group of friends. We've been playing lethal company with some mods to allow both my usual gaming group *and* my usual pathfinder group to all play together. And one of the pathfinder crew I've known for a long time because he's the brother of one of my best friends but also I don't really know him that well.

Anyway a member of my original gaming crew recently came out as a demigirl and so when introducing her to the pathfinder crew I was very "she or they only 😤 respect my friend's pronouns or die by my blade" and even the guy I don't know super well has been 100% on it.

In lethal company there's the chance for you to land on a map that a thunderstorm is going on and we have a Syrian refugee as part of our usual crew and a different game with thunderstorm sounds (phasmophobia) has caused hours-long panic attacks so when the option for stormy weather came up I was like "NO STORMS we have a member who has a ptsd reaction to loud booming sounds overhead" and again zero pushback whatsoever and then the next day the guy I don't know as well sent me a list of various mods for my Syrian friend to replace the thunder with a different sound so that we can play those challenge maps uninterrupted by flashbacks to warzones.

(Also game devs plz I understand why you include thunderstorms but if you can make an arachnophobia mode you can also make a "everything is the same but now thunder is fart sounds" mode so people who fled war and terrorism can also enjoy your game without having a complete meltdown because that thunderclap sounded a little too close to the noise the bomb made when it destroyed their house)

Anyway. All that to say that I just really love and appreciate my friends and they always pleasantly surprise me when stuff like this happens. Like he doesn't know my Syrian friend at all and has only played with all of us as a group twice. We mentioned that we'd done a client-side mod in Phasmophobia that turned the thunder into farts and within 12 hours we had a list of different lethal company mods to do effectively the same thing.

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anarcho-occultism · 1 year

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Tracy Jordan

Tracy Jordan (1966-March 17, 2026) was an American actor and musician active from 1978 until his death. Jordan was born in Yankee Stadium and, owing to both the unusual location and the simultaneous focus on the arrival of the world-eater Galactus by most public officials, was not officially issued a birth certificate. Jordan grew up in the Knuckle Beach neighborhood of the Bronx, which was infamous for high crime rates and general dysfunction. The Cult of Quetzalcoatl regularly abducted sacrifice victims from the neighborhood, a fate which Jordan only narrowly avoided on at least two occasions. Owing to his family’s precarious financial situation, Jordan eventually dropped out of high school and relied on sporadic odd jobs such as acting as a busboy at the legally dubious ‘McDowell’s’ restaurant in Long Island. Jordan longed for bigger things, however, being drawn to acting after a chance encounter with actor Charles Hayden Savage while he was filming an episode of Brazzos. Jordan was able to become a cast member on the short-lived show Ray Ray’s Mystery Garage which aired on IBC from 1978 to 1980. Once the show ended, Jordan became a street performer who specialized in basket drumming for cash on the streets of New York City.

Jordan’s ultimate break would not come until 1984. That year, Jordan heard about the Apollo Theater’s Amateur Night and decided to perform stand-up during it. During the performance, Jordan proved popular with the audience which happened to include prominent comedian Jonathan Crunk. Crunk, viewing Jordan as having potential, took him under his wing and was able to get him his first big breakthrough of adulthood by joining the cast of Studio 60 in the 1987-1988 season. Jordan was a cast member on the show for over a decade, during which he played many notable roles. During the Gulf War and Eugenics Wars, Jordan regularly portrayed General Warren Boutwell giving bombastic and at times derailed press conferences and continued to depict him after Boutwell exited the military to start a restaurant. He also participated in many parodies of the children’s show Mr. Robinson’s Neighborhood, including an infamous sketch where he portrayed the eponymous Robinson vandalizing the setting of My Friendly Neighborhood to reduce completion. Jordan additionally played a camera operator in Studio 60’s infamous Gordy’s Home sketch, which was never aired after the original airing in 1998. Jordan attracted praise for many of his performances and was able to leverage his new status to advance his career further.

Jordan began his music career in this time, intially mainly recording novelty songs in the vein of the late ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic. However, Jordan soon sought to branch away from this. He joined the Lethal Interjection Crew in 1994 but left two years later after a falling out with its leader Thugnificent. Jordan released several rap singles throughout the 1990’s but was never able to release a full album which thus prevented him from earning full-fledged stardom in the world of music. Jordan also acted in several B-movies during this era, including Cleaver II, Who Dat Ninja, Rescue Bay: The Movie, Hard to Watch, Angels With the Filthiest Souls and The Crows Have Eyes, as well as several episodes of the Night Springs revival. Jordan also dabbled in voice acting, primarily in English dubs of Japanese anime series thanks to connections with Japanese production companies he formed while filming Samurai I Amurai. Jordan notably participated in the English dubs of Tinymon, Pink Dark Boy and Mew Mew Kissie Cutie (a performance which was widely panned and Jordan claims was done ‘to buy a vacation house’). Jordan also got married during this time to Angie Shepherd, though initially he refused to acknowledge the marriage to maintain a playboy public image.

In 1999, Jordan expressed disappointment he was stuck with B-movies and comedies and announced he was quitting in favor of directing, announcing his first project would be a serious. biopic of President Douglass Dilman with he himself in the role of the nation’s first African-American president. However production hit snags quickly. Jordan had not asked the Dilman family for permission to make such a film and a spokesman denounced the idea of Jordan making such a movie. He additionally announced his friend Vincent Chase had been cast as a member of Dilman’s Secret Service detail before Chase committed to the role and the two had a falling out when Chase publicly said he had never signed on to the role. The production ground to a halt when his executive producer (who de facto was a second director) Roman Bridger was killed after becoming yet another in the infamous chain of Ghostface murderers. Despite this, Jordan continued to try to go through with the film, pouring much of his own money to salvage it, but in the end His Accidency would never make it to audiences.

Some have suggested the erratic behavior Jordan began displaying in the 2000’s was a result of frustration his more serious artistic intentions were blocked. It has been suggested Jordan’s infamous 2003 trip to Wadiya and public embrace of the nation’s dictator Haffaz Aladeen was a scheme to try to get money from Aladeen to sustain his movie. During the 2001 dot com recession, Jordan expressed a positive attitude towards the infamous Project Mayhem, drawing widespread criticism. Jordan also, on multiple occasions, assaulted paparazzi with various improvised weapons, including a prop from the original Galaxy Wars that Jordan had purchased for $2 million at a charity auction. These controversies caused significant damage to Jordan’s career and by the mid-2000’s, Jordan was nearly bankrupt and struggled to find work. However, he was able to secure a leading role in the sketch comedy series The Girly Show in 2006, which subsequently was rebranded as TGS With Tracy Jordan and took on a renewed life as a program no longer solely targeting a female audience. Jordan did continue to draw controversy–a PSA where he told African-Americans ‘don’t vote’ aired three times before Jordan requested it be taken off the air–but it did enable a greater deal of stability. Jordan was able to have the financial security to pursue a more stable interest in his hobbies such as American history, a passion he picked up after learning of his descent from Thomas Jefferson and his slave Sally Hemmings. He played a crucial role in funding the team that debunked the claims of the so-called ‘Washingtonians’ clan of cannibals that they were descended from George Washington. During Jordan’s time on TGS also involved recurring feuds with co-star Jenna Maroney, though the two would ultimately leave the show on amicable terms. Jordan’s career arguably peaked in this time period as he ultimately became an EGOT winner after winning all 4 of the entertainment industry’s most prestigious awards.

After the conclusion of the show, Jordan once again developed a controversial reputation. After the Awakening of Magic, Jordan would begin to espouse a number of human supremacist sentiments. He would be temporarily banned from The Circle after calling for killing vampire celebrity Lestat de Lioncourt and the expulsion of Prince Krel of Akiridion from Earth after he criticized Jordan’s comments. Jordan also was temporarily arrested after egging Justin Russo following his election as President of the Magical Congress of the United States in 2015. Jordan would announce a presidential bid on a human supremacist–but otherwise rather left-wing–platform in 2016, though he failed to obtain ballot access and was only able to earn status as a write-in in the states of New York, Illinois and Winnemac. Beyond this political drift, Jordan also was dogged by more mundane celebrity scandals. Jordan got into a physical altercation with pop musician Connor4Real in 2014 that led to him being hospitalized with a broken pinkie. His wife’s reality show Queen of Jordan drew controversy for an episode where the Jordans insisted on continuing a California vacation even in the midst of a kaiju attack which was accused of encouraging dangerous behavior by the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps. Jordan did begin to calm down after his personal physician, Dr. Leo Spaceman, was arrested for helping manufacture Substance-D and Jordan revealed Spaceman had been giving him some of the said substance while claiming it was vitalizing medicine, a factor helping drive his erratic tendencies.

Citing a desire for more privacy, Jordan would move to Canada in 2019, where he remained through the COVID-19, Kongoli flu and Alvin virus outbreaks. Jordan was thus not in the US when the President’s Day Massacre occurred and installed David Jefferson Adams as President. Jordan denounced the coup attempt and expressed support for the efforts of the Left Eye and other groups to violently resist the far-right takeover of America, causing a rift between him and his old employer Jack Donaghy (who, while opposed to the coup attempt, favored a strategy of nonviolent resistance). Jordan announced another bid for the presidency in 2024 and gained some traction after the Adams-stacked court disqualified Governor Georgina Hobart from consideration. Jordan announced former Republican Senator Alex Keaton as his running mate and was, surprisingly, allowed to run by the Adams regime, though Adams’ allies within the New Founding Fathers movement likely only did so presuming Jordan’s status as a de facto exile and history of erratic behavior would weaken his chances. Jordan would officially received 12% of the popular vote and won a faithless elector from the state of Vermont who defected and voted for Jordan after another elector was arrested for voting for the state’s socialist former Senator Julian Felsenburgh. Jordan would remain in Canada for the rest of his life, as his poor physical health meant that when a resurgence of the Kongoli flu occurred in 2026, it proved to be a fatal infection. Jordan died on the same die as his TGS co-star Maroney, who also died of Kongoli flu in New York City–in an eerie parallel to Jordan’s ancestor Thomas Jefferson and his rival/friend John Adams.

References

30 Rock, Marvel Comics (The Coming of Galactus, ), Q: The Serpent God, Coming to America, Only Murders in the Building, Scrooged, Carter’s Army, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Star Trek, Undercover Brother, Saturday Night Live, My Friendly Neighborhood, Nope, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, The Boondocks, The Sopranos, Baywatch, Home Alone, Schitt’s Creek, Alan Wake, Johnny Test, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Undertale, The Man, Entourage, Scream, The Dictator, Fight Club, iCarly, Masters of Horror, Shadowrun, Interview With The Vampire, 3Below, Wizards of Waverly Place, Harry Potter, Works of Sinclair Lewis, Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, Pacific Rim, A Scanner Darkly, The End of October, The Sadness, The Handmaid’s Tale, Shattered Union, Sorry to Bother You, The Politician, Family Ties, The Purge, Lord of the World

#league of extraordinary gentlemen #mega crossover #30 rock #sketch comedy #alternate history

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j-natsuka · 1 month

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An OC I made named Saro!! How I imagine their world is that it's kinda like Lethal Company and other games like that. (Backrooms, Among Us, SCP Foundation, etc) It takes certain mechanics or features from them.

LORE BELOW👇

- Saro is one of the members of a party of 15 on the ship OX-13. They work for a company called Las Xbridgebinsstur Facility. The company's purpose is gathering intel from different planets. OX-13's specific task is to collect resources and scraps off of planets along with creatures and taking notes. Each area/place they go to has different environments and creatures. Saro is a very responsible, sticking to the books type of person. Occasionally they'll let their guard down and have their moments but they're mostly serious. The job isn't one for fooling around (despite a lot of crew members doing so anyway).

- Saro joined the company around the age of 19 and is currently 23. Saros rank is B+ and is a Collector in where you collect things. Whether it's creatures, plants, information, objects, etc. Saro is decently good at their job, occasionally struggling but doing fairly well, landing them at B+.

The ranking system is from

X - Higher ups

S+, S, S-

A+, A, A-

B+, B, B-

C+, C, C-

D+, D, D-

E+, E, E-

F = Fired/Eliminated

The world there is kinda messed up? There's a lot of issues with global warming and whatnot causing the government to try to make as many planets hospitable incase Earth y'know goes to shit. It's very dystopian on Earth while the company is very Sci-Fi and techy. Which I tried to show with some art pieces.

- Saro is also a scientist in the company but is majorly one of the scavengers. Occasionally they'll work with creatures and stuff however not too often.

- Saro actually has a pet named Cody which species name is Phsycadet. They're a common creature on a few planets and rank low on the danger level and creature hierarchy. They possess psychic abilities this it's name. The creature it's self is very ant like, being workers for the Queen of the colony. Phsycadets are a very closed off creatures, straying away from humans and other entities. They're a passive mob however can get a bit hostile when picked on. Saro found Cody lost and away from it's colony which winded them up taking care of Cody. They ended up being the ships "house" pet and get along well with the other crew members!!

(Credit to @jhernand1 for the creature and lore!)

Sorry this was immensely long however I wanted to explain the writing and information that I had written on the drawing!

#my art #artwork #drawing #traditional drawing #traditional illustration #new artwork #artists on tumblr #oc artwork #oc art #oc dump #oc lore

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quiet-kunoichi · 3 years

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[ @suck-my-tomato | Halloween Party Oneshot | verse; highschool ]

It was their senior year at last, and Kimiko was not about to let it go to waste. The rest of her high school years had been spent either too insecure to show a little skin, or not single enough to get away with it without some disapproving stares. The tail end of junior year, along with the summer that followed, was spent in a near-lifeless haze: she’d become well accustomed to depressive dissociation and avoidance to the point of self-destructive isolation. Meanwhile, Sasuke likely had the time of his life as a bachelor in the paradise of their recent split: that is, until his chronically-ill brother took a lethal turn for the worse. Upon hearing about Itachi’s sudden death, Kimiko had lassoed herself back into Sasuke’s orbit — Invited herself inside ( she never returned the key to his apartment ), ensured that he was taking care of himself in lieu of his recent loss. Additionally, it felt like a loss of her own, too. She’d known Itachi as long as she had known Sasuke, for obvious reasons. As odd as it sounded once her feelings became obviously romantic for the younger Uchiha, Itachi felt like.. a big brother in-law. After all, he bailed her out of her holding cell after she’d caught Sasuke cheating with that bimbo redhead from chemistry. It was a wonder why he kept the kind of company that he did; the run-ins she’d endured over the last few months since her split with Sasuke had soured her to the whole ‘Akatsuki’ gang. Just a bunch of sleazy womanizers. It’d been quite a few months since that had occured, and Kimiko and Sasuke were growing steadily more attached to one another, once again. Not nearly close to the way they were, before the letters ( still unknown to Sasuke ) and his decision to plant the seed of everlasting insecurity within her by betraying her trust for the opportunity to mesh face with someone new. For a short while before Itachi’s death, Kimi had arrived to parties solely to keep the recently hotheaded Uchiha in line. She was his designated stormbreaker, and was expected to deliver him home safely each night that he took things a bit too far. Those incidents didn’t come without their rewards, such as the few instances in which he’d cling to her in his drunken and drug-addled stupor, apologize profusely and confess his everlasting love.. Just to slip away into sleep seconds afterwards. Admittedly, Kimiko would entertain the heartache of such a prentendedly wholehearted and pure moment before ultimately lapsing to silent tears and peeling herself from his side to take her quiet leave from his shared home. More than a few times, Itachi and the Tamashi would share a quiet and lingering look across the front room. Now that he’s departed, Kimiko often wishes she would have sat next to him and allow herself a single shred of comfort from the situation she’d found herself in. His stare had always been a little somber: Like he knew all of the things that she was shoving beneath the surface. Was this going to be her lingering reality? Harboring this blood-stained secret, playing guardian angel to a haphazard boy whom broke her heart but didn’t manage to drown her love? Perhaps she should’ve asked the wise Uchiha Itachi, before it became too late. Even if she grew back what was left of her mauled heart to learn how to forgive him, Kimiko knew now that a life of romance and love was never going to be the same, for her. Not with old memories dredged back up and spot-lit like fresh wounds, vague yet promising threats from her imprisoned and somehow still imposing father appearing two more times since that first letter made it to her porch step. Sasuke had changed faces and become someone new overnight; he squandered all of his previous promises of her being his one and only — and it elicited a violent response that her father had only just forewarned her of inheriting. Perhaps this was just her destiny, after all. Tonight would be different, in a sense: Kimiko was attending this senior year halloween party solely for herself. She wasn’t trailing in on Sasuke’s colonged scent, nor was she couped up at home until the siren call came and beckoned her to act as ‘Sasuke Uchiha clean-up crew’. She was here to cook up some fun of her own, solely for herself.. Which is precisely what she had told herself at the last party she attended three weeks ago for ‘Homecoming.’ That night tumbled away into a mess of limbs beneath trashed bedsheets: Sasuke and Kimiko had once again found the most intimate form of comfort in one another’s arms, for the first time in.. 8 months. Tonight would be different. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Did she actually just put all of this effort into her costume for the hopes that it would catch his attention above any other girl there? Was she hoping for a similar end to this mixed-bag night as the last party lured them to? Perhaps. It was mostly for herself, though. Yes, the tight black latex zippered corset, a pair of short spandex that clung to her hips and ass like it was life or death, the heeled boots that cut off just below her knee and the tights that squeezed her curved thighs just at their most voluptuous circumference.. The feathered black wings attached to her back and the headband horns adorning her crown .. All the way down to her perfected makeup, the dark tinge to her lips and the dash of gloss at the very center.. It was all for her. Not to grab the attention of anyone who bothered looking her way, and certainly not to make his jaw drop. Once again, her phone buzzes from its place stashed between her breasts. With a sigh that exhales the last puff of her menthol cigarette, ( thank you, Shikamaru ) Kimi plucks the it from her corset and unlocks the device. A strange twist of disappointment curls her stomach when the texts popping up were just from the girls. Perhaps it was a tad childish to wish upon a ball of gas in the sky that Sasuke would reach out to her: provide some sort of hint that he was interested in seeing her tonight — that he wasn’t already wrapped up in some other nameless skank. Instead, it was just Ino and Sakura, buzzing at her ear like flies and wanting to know ‘ Where the hell ’ she was. They made plans to pick her up, but Kimi had different plans for herself. Already outside the party house, the fallen angel runs out the cherry of her pregame cigarette against the side of a white Prius. It belonged to one specific redhead from junior year chemistry class. If she knew what was good for her, that bitch would keep a healthy distance from the Uchiha, and a restraining-order distance from the Tamashi herself. The rest of her flask is guzzled with little more than a post-swallow wince: the fire of honey whiskey lit her back to life. She’d shared swigs with the passenger seat of Ms. White Prius — poor decision to leave the windows open a crack. Now that her confidence was rightly bolstered by liquid courage and her anxious insecurities settled with those two cigarettes, Kimiko pulls herself off the car. She throws a single backward kick of her heel and dents the door, donning a wicked smirk as she heads up the walkway and pushes inside. The damn wings of a fallen angel knock against the doorway — but they’ll provide a healthy bubble of distance from everyone else around her as the crowd parts around her. If she learned anything from the parties she’d attended in the last year — it was to make a b-line from the front ( or back ) door straight to the booze selection.

Although she was already feeling that hot buzz of spirits in her blood, Kimiko needed to secure a drink to clutch for the rest of the night. Any time something stupid was said, any time something unforgivable was done, she would take a drink. And if Sasuke was seen with another girl, after what happened between them at the Homecoming party three weeks ago, and how often she’s been at his apartment and patiently helping him sort through his emotions, after everything that happened between them.. Well, she’d guzzle the whole cup and then someone else’s, too. Maybe crack a skull, pluck a tooth off of the floor for keepsake.. Ino and Sakura have flocked to her side, bubbling with astonished compliments as well as soured remarks on the Tamashi’s disappearance. The familiar crimson of slow boiling rage starts to fade away from the corners of her vision. She’s standing at the kitchen counter, red plastic cup empty and surveying the options. “ Holy wow, Kimi! You look gorgeous. ” Sakura, the little angel of their trio, chimes in at her left. On her right shoulder, Ino the devil shares her opinion. “ Gorgeous? Fuck that. Kimiko looks drop dead sexy. This is definitely an ex-revenge costume. ” Silent as ever ( at least, as she’d become over the last year ) the fallen angel reaches for the rum, rolling her thumb over the cap and flicking it across the marble counter. It glugs liquid fire into her empty cup while Sakura wraps around her arm and tucks her head against Kimi’s shoulder ( a good sign that she was inebriated, herself ). “ Ex-revenge costume? How’s she supposed to get revenge from an outfit? ” The naive pinkette asks. Ino scoffs, “ Are you kidding me? Do you know how many guys have cracked their necks just to gawk at her? I counted six, just on her trip from the front door to the kitchen. ” Kimiko adds a splash of tequila into the mix, as well as the rest of someone’s open redbull can. Then comes the mixer: some sort of grapefruit soda, and a lime. Like, a whole half. She likes the bite. “ And other guys looking at her is supposed to be.. revengeful? ” Sakura questions after slipping from Kimiko’s arm, their polar opposite wings knocking against one another in her clumsy step to shoot a questioning look to their blonde-haired and red-clad she-devil. A hand comes up to Ino’s forehead as she sighs. “ Oh my god, I knew you had too much of my Prosecco. ” Sakura makes to protest, and Kimiko ( who has yet to acknowledge them or make an expression of either distaste or amusement ) takes a tasting swig of her drink. It wasn’t bad, but maybe it needs more grapefruit soda. “ The more attention she gets from other guys, the more jealous Sasuke is gonna get. She gives him a taste of what he’s missing out on. ” Ino explains. Sakura pretends to understand, but she’s never been the type for manipulative revenge schemes. Her payback is served with a crack of her knuckles. Meanwhile, Kimiko uses a healthy balance of the two methods of torture. Even still, as both girls bicker over whether it was a good idea to lure that side out of Sasuke ( especially in lieu of his recent loss ) or to move on like he didn’t exist, Kimiko scanned the crowd for his unforgettable features. They had no idea of what happened between the two at that last party; they didn’t know about his once thorny exterior quickly becoming dependent on her emotional support through this difficult time, nor how she honestly felt concerned and protective over him despite still trying to figure out how to forgive him ( or if she even had the kindness left in her to accomplish such a feat ). At last, they’d found each other through the writhing mass of bodies mingling, dancing, flirting, and drinking in a kaleidoscope of lights. Yellow high-beams meet swimming pools of obsidian over the rim of her cup. The whole world deafens and stills around them: despite the five yards of distance that separated the two, Kimiko swore she could hear his shaky exhale as he drinks in her visage — wonders briefly if he could somehow hear the tripping thrum of her heartbeat as her stare flickers over his own devilishly desirable costume. Pulling her lips from her drink, the fallen vixen swipes bubblegum tongue quickly over her lip and offers a little wink across the room ( unseen from her female counterparts ). Let’s hope this doesn’t backfire.

#suck-my-tomato #are you ready for this mayhem #verse; highschool #oneshot; wickedparty #tw; alcohol #tw; trauma mention #tw; death mention

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reincarnated70sbaby · 3 years

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star crossed

-chapter four-

*disclaimer: this work is entirely fiction, all scenes with real life people presented in this work are entirely fictitious.*

word count : 2.4k

warnings : angst! (af!) swearing ? charlie watts being unbothered as ever, did i mention angst?

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After a couple drinks in, the conversation of recording a track started up. Jimmy was actually quite excited, a Rolling Stones and Jimmy Page track was bound to happen sometime. Sure, Jimmy had played with them in his session days, but not anything to the extent of actually being featured and credited for the track. They decided to come back tomorrow to Bill’s home studio to record a track that might feature on the upcoming Goats Head Soup album. Two nights previous, he finished up the English leg of the 72/73 tour. In a couple weeks, Led Zeppelin would be embarking on their biggest tour yet - the 73 North American tour. There was plans to record a concert film and album, and Jimmy was really hopeful everything would work out.

“Lads I’m about to fucking pass out here, I’m out, see you all tomorrow yeah?”

“All right Jim, see y’a tomorrow, not to early mate right?”

After agreeing to come in the early afternoon with Bill , he bid goodnight to the rest of crew there, Charlie and the pianist for the album, Nicky. Sure, they weren’t as wild as the Toxic Twins, but they were still good company - better than getting drunk in his hotel room alone.

Walking back to his hotel room, the walk felt much longer than 10 minutes. Even though it was the beginning of February, and therefore the start of spring, he had to wrap his arms around himself to preserve body heat.

Reaching the hotel lobby, he was met with the warm air of the large room. Red carpets and gold accents adorned the room. It was quite late in the night - or early in the morning, so he decided to skip going to the bar in hopes of picking up a partner and instead, head straight to his room. On his way into the elevator, he passed two women, both wearing sunglasses. He thought that peculiar, and even more peculiar, he thought he recognised the woman with short brunette hair. After attempting to place the woman, he concluded he was in no state of mind to try.

Laying down on his bed, his thoughts wondered to Alice. He hadn’t heard anything about her since they were last together. He wasn’t even sure if she was still in the music business. He wondered would he ever see her again. He hoped he would, but a feeling in his gut told him it would happen eventually. Sooner, or later, he thought.

Waking up slightly hungover, he showered and prepared for the day of recording ahead. It wasn’t to be a serious session, more of a jam of sorts and hopefully produce a track in the process.

Strolling casually into Bill’s recording studio, he noticed that, as per usual, everybody was there expect Mick. On second look he noticed that Mick Taylor was not there either.

“Where are the Mick’s?”

“I think Jagger is just late, but oh, theres Taylor there now!”

Just as Keith finished speaking, Mick Taylor walked in, guitar case in hand. This would be the first time Jimmy and Mick played together, and he hoped they would get on well.

“Jimmy, great to see you again, ready to play?”

“Nice to see you too, lets get down to it shall we boys?”

Mick Jagger had finally arrived, so he and Keith were working on lyrics, while Charlie and Bill were working on rhythms and riffs, leaving Jimmy and Mick Taylor to work out the main guitar melody. They worked really well together, as they both had the same blues origins and both loved incorporating it into new material.

“So who's the sound tech here anyway” Jimmy asked, while in the process of tuning his guitar down.

“Allie, she's been with us for the album, she's great, have you met her before?”

“Hmm, the name doesn't sound familiar I don't think”

“Well she had an appointment, so she’ll probably be here within the next hour” Mick commented, a shy smile coming onto his face when mentioning her.

After around half an hour of messing around, the boys were finally ready to start the recording tapes. All that stopped then was the missing sound tech.

“Good afternoon boys, I, being your guardian angel have brought lunch for all of us” Alice said cheerily, bursting through the door with a bright smile.

Jimmy’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, suddenly connecting all the dots. The feeling in his gut about meeting her, the woman in the hotel, and the ‘Allie’ nickname.

“Oh thank you Alice, forgot to mention we invited a special guest to join our entourage, last night at Bill’s after you and Taylor left” spoke Mick Jagger with his usual eloquence.

“Alice!”

“Jimmy” Alice replied curtly, a hint of sourness in her blank expression. Jimmy was now in front of Alice, greeting her.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, its been what, nearly four years! I didn’t even know if you were still an audio tech” Jimmy said warmly, excited to see her again

“I would say it’s a pleasure to see you too, but its not, so I wont” Alice casually said, blanking him, and moving further into the room. She set the bags of fresh food on the table, in the back of the recording section of the large hall. Jimmy watched her walk away casually, totally taken off guard by her coldness. The rest of the Stones all caught this too, extremely confused, but a little entertained by their encounter.

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Keith asked, a small smirk on his lips, pointing between the two.

“I would say used to know, I was on of the engineers on Zeppelin II in 69”

“Hold on, I didn’t know you worked Zeppelin II? That means you must have been a teenager when you worked on it. Blimey” Mick, asked, all of this coming news to him, as well to the others.

“I suppose you wouldn’t, after all I wasn’t even credited, nor my boss Tom” Alice said coolly, still not turning away from setting up the various soups and sandwiches.

Obviously, the teenage Alice that Jimmy once knew was long gone.

“God, Allie you look so old, what are you now? Twenty four, twenty five” Jimmy asked, sampling the new nickname, trying to break the stifling awkwardness that now infected the room.

“Still getting my age wrong I see, Jimmy. Im surprised you still know my name, after all the stunts you pulled over the last four years” Alice replied, walking directly towards Jimmy, accompanied with razor sharp glare. She now stood directly on front of him, slightly invading his personal space. She has grown taller and her face matured, loosing the slight roundness to her cheeks she once possessed. She apparently had cut off her long wavy crimson locks, in favour of a modern, dark brown bob.

“Uh, what’re you talking about?” Jimmy asked chuckling nervously as he scratched his head, hoping she wouldn’t notice his feigned innocence.

“Oh I’m sure you know, as does everyone else in this room. I don't really have the energy to continue this irrelevant conversation, or frankly, any conversation in general with you at this point. Also, it’s Alice to you” Alice stated sternly with a finger pointed to his chest. Jimmy could practically see the ice swirling in her cool blue eyes, the eyes he had come to miss over the years. He had never had encountered her true, red headed temperament. Now that he was on the receiving end, he desperately wanted to stay away from it.

“I’m not really hungry anyway, so I’ll be in the mod room if you guys need me” Alice said, directing her words to everyone but Jimmy, before leaving and entering the conjoining mod room. Mick Taylor quickly set his down his burnt orange Les Paul, then followed Alice out of the room.

“Woah, I haven’t seen drama like this since the last time Mick and Bowie had an arguement - which was last week, I think hmm” Keith remarked with a sarcastic finger on his chin, before moving to serve himself some soup.

“Actually Keef, I think this charade is a lot more entertaining than David’s and I’s little tiffs, as this is bit more of a lovers quarrel”

“Better not let Taylor hear that, or he’ll have to have a word with you Pagey” Bill commented, wide grin now on his face.

Jimmy was now the confused one. He turned to Charlie, silently asking him about Alice and Mick with the point of his finger. Charlie simply shrugged his shrugged his shoulders in response before going back to drumming a riff with the hi-hats and snare drums.

After everybody had ate or, cooled off, recording was finally underway. After a couple of takes, Alice interrupted to give some pointers.

“Look boys, I’m gonna be candid with you all. It sounds shit” Alice said into the mic. Ever since she had gotten more experience under belt, she became renowned for her no bullshit opinions. In turn, people valued her honestly and knew what she said was, more often than not, right.

“Yeah, boys let’s not sugarcoat it, we’re not exactly gelling as one” Keith commented, starting to become fed up with having to balance not only Mick Jaggers usual dramatics, but another egotistical lead guitarist in the mix.

“Okay, what do you think love?” Mick Taylor asked softly, trying to keep the peace before something erupted. He wasn’t wrong, the Stones, along with a quarter of Led Zeppelin, and a hot headed tech was a bit of a lethal cocktail. Fights often combusted quickly between the Stones and Alice, as all members were just as stubborn as each other.

“Well it sounds like there’s 5 Stones, and 25% Led Zeppelin playing. What I want, and what fans want to hear is The Stones featuring Jimmy Page. You five need to change your usual routine of recording for once and mix it up. And you” she looked to Jimmy “need to stop pretending you’re with the other boys. You both need to work with each others strengths and quit overcompensating. Stop pretending you’re something you’re not”

Everybody in the entire house probably could pick up that the last sentence was a direct jab to Jimmy. Another awkward silence passed, ultimately stemming from a staring contest between Alice and the famed guitarist.

“Oh my fucking god, kill me now” Mick muttered, pinching his nose, while Charlie just rolled his eyes and started drumming the start of the song. Eventually Keith started the riff with Mick Taylor,along with Bill and Charlie carrying the bass and percussion, and Mick Jagger singing the lyrics. Only when they reached the solo part, did Jimmy break eye contact with Alice and begin playing.

Finishing up recording, the boys all started to leave. Mick and Jimmy were the last to pack up their stuff, and an uncomfortable air fell over them. Obviously they both either had history, or were making history with Alice. Eventually Mick realised he should probably let the pair talk it out, so, as Jimmy toward the mod room door, Mick moved toward the hallway door.

“Alice, can we talk? Obviously things have become a bit strained between us, and I don’t want it to stay like this” Jimmy started softly. It was probably his choice of words that set Alice off, as immediately after his finished she whipped around from the sound board and kicked off.

“ 'Strained' Jimmy, are you serious?! Strained?! First of all, you didn’t even tell me you weren’t mixing the album with us, and then you just left after our night together. Then- don’t try to interrupt me James. Then, you barely even credit Tom for his songwriting tips on the album. You didn’t even mention me once, even whenever anyone brings up that Theremin part in ‘Whole Lotta Love’! You blush and go on to explain how it was your own fantastic brain that thought of it. The you had the audacity to diss Mystic studios in the papers! What was it you said again? Oh yeah, 'Mystic Studios was far from mystical and closer to meagre, and as a result, the workers were too.” Alice snarled, stream practically blowing out her ears.

“Okay, I agree that comment about Mystics’s capabilities was definitely wrong, I was extremely out of it in that interview- hell I even jibed Atlantic Records!” Jimmy was now getting frustrated too. Normally, no one put him in his place, or gave out to him.

“And then how cold you were about Tom!”

“Wait what happened with Tom?” Jimmy inquired, now serious.

“Oh my fucking god Jimmy” Alice shouted at him “you don’t even remember to you?” She said with a laugh. She searched his face, but all she saw was confusion in his light grey eyes.

“Tom had a fucking stroke last year. Peter told you, and don’t you dare deny it, as he told me he informed you all when I spoke to him on the phone. For Christ’s sake even Bonzo rang to see how he was doing! He didn’t even have my number, but he found it anyway! Robert and John joined the call after he finished speaking. When I asked for you, they said you were in a closet fucking a groupie!”

“Look Alice, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to sa-”

“I’m not surprised Jimmy, it’s a marvel you can play guitar at all, with having no fucking sense in your thick head”

“Stop being so fucking rude to me, you’re not perfect either! Don’t act so high and mighty! I know what went on in Geffen records! I’m mates with David Geffen” Jimmy was no shouting too. At the mention of David Geffen, Alice’s face immediately switched from red to a pale white.

“You do not know what happened between myself and David, if you did, you wouldn’t speak to him ever again” Alice spoke low and slowly, her face now white as a sheet.

Unbeknownst to the pair, all of the Stones were listening outside. When they heard Jimmy shouting about Geffen, Mick Taylor had enough and burst in. The rest of the boys tried to stop him, but he broke free.

“Jimmy, stop it. You don’t know anything about the Geffen incident. You don’t know Alice anymore. I suggest you leave her alone before I step in more. Al, let’s go, our driver is outside.” Mick stretched his hand out to Alice, her eyes now watery, trying to bite down her quivering lip.

Alice immediately joined Mick, and left without a second look to Jimmy.

Jimmy, now alone in the mod room, felt his gut twist with guilt. Had something bad happened with David Geffen and Alice? His mind wondered to Mick’s choice of words -‘incident’. He had heard rumours that were more damaging on David’s behalf, but being friendly with him, he thought he knew him better than all the tabloids and industry gossip.

Jimmy realised that both he and Alice had changed drastically in the last four years, how could he have expected everything to go back to how it was in the summer of ‘69? Now, they were even more distant than ever before.

Maybe they had missed their chance at eternity. Maybe the stars had uncrossed.

His heart nearly broke at the revelation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ok so chapter four !!!

I wanna write angst more often it’s my guilty pleasure

anyway, I think this is my favourite piece I’ve written 😌

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tag list : @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey @dreamersdrowse

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different: Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It.

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

· Never trust an outsider

· Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

· And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan. Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush. Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.   That is until I meet Cooper...   Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.   Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other. Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

#book recommendations #book rec #fantasy recommendations #book recs #laura reads books #this was longer than i realized it was going to be #documentation of a very weird book month #but we're almost back on track now because i am LOVING a darker shade of magic #welllp these are books

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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The Night Oliver Branch Died

CW: Drowning, threats with a gun, discussed/referenced noncon of a minor, discussed pet whump/dehumanization, oliver branch is gross but hey he dies in this one so, related note: character death

Tagging Chris’s crew just because I feel like you’ll all appreciate this: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump

READERS: Tell me if you guessed it before reading this!

TIMELINE: Takes place in the future of Chris’s timeline, when he has been free for years and has enrolled in college.

The night Oliver Branch died was absolutely ordinary.

He spent some time going over the notes for the trial, sitting in his nicely appointed but perfectly modest three-bedroom home, scanning his handwritten planned remarks for the press while he ate a light dinner of soup and salad. The cook left for the night, and Oliver was the only one in the house.

Well, or so he thought.

It used to bother him, but honestly he didn’t mind the solitude any longer. Years spent with a full staff, worries he had to constantly consider at all hours of the day and night, natural disasters and economic downturns and everything else. It was nice just to take a deep breath, smell the candle burning in the center of the table, a soft sweet magnolia smell that reminded him of his childhood home.

After the trial, perhaps he would move back home. He’d lived in this state for twenty-four years, was its governor for eight of them, but he felt… a bit tired of it all. He wanted to go back to a place where people moved more slowly, wandered the streets after church in pale linen suits in the summer with the ocean air a constant truth of everyday life.

They would know, of course, about his disgrace. But they would be polite about it, keep it to themselves. He had the sense that while the scandal would follow him, it would be easier to ignore in a place where people keep their secrets safely behind closed, locked doors.

Oliver had done the same, once upon a time, only to have the secret simply walk away when someone else opened the door.

He sighed, sitting back, looking at his half-finished soup with a wistful sort of sadness.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain. He was just grateful to be out of prison, living in his own house with his own cook and the cleaning woman who comes by twice per week. Almost back to normal. Once this trial was over, of course, he’d sell the house and move back home, and it would all be just fine.

He took a deep breath and picked up his notes, handwritten in a series of different ink colors to differentiate which part of the speech he was in. It helped him to memorize if he thought of the colors. The only one he didn’t like, but used, anyway, was a deep teal ink in the paragraph where he admitted to what he did to his beautiful boy.

His beautiful boy, who had ruined himself with freedom, just as Oliver had always known he would. Some people were meant to be kept, they could not be trusted to keep themselves. His Baldur had been one of those, he had known the moment he’d been shown the intake photo, of the pretty boy curled up in a corner of a plain white room, hands up over his face in some attempt to protect himself.

We believe this will suit your specifications, the email from Ms. Renfod had stated in flat, clean prose that could never have encompassed the perfect leap in Oliver’s heart at the sight, the excitement that ran through him from scalp to toes at the fear and tears in big green eyes. We have recently acquired this individual as a result of a deal involving a family member. No inconvenient missing persons report, Mr. Branch. Perfect confidentiality, no complications. We believe he will require three and one-half months of training, plus two weeks extra for final preparations. I have attached a price list for added fees.

God, what a sight, the pretty thing before they’d taken him from himself, before he’d been delivered smiling and silent and still in the dead of night to Oliver’s door.

Honestly, what a loss that he was roaming around like some wild animal now.

Some people needed a keeper, and every time he had seen his beautiful boy since his liberation it had only emphasized to Oliver how badly Baldur needed the right sort of keeper. This new one, the tall young man with his threats and curses, clearly wasn’t doing a very good job.

Well. That was fine. Not his problem any longer, and soon enough Oliver would stand up at a podium before the press, looking at all their little recorders, and he would tell everyone exactly who Christopher Stanton was and what he had been. Oliver’s disgrace would be total, but if he played this right, Baldur would never go anywhere again without no longer being able to hide behind his earrings and awful hair and the patch of scarred skin where his barcode once had been.

Baldur might have gotten away from him, all those years ago, but Oliver intended to ensure he could not get away from what he had been made to do, to be. One did not stop being a pet, once they were made into a thing to be used for pleasure, there was nothing else for them to be.

Baldur might have delusions otherwise, but Oliver could ruin those, for him, just like his boy had ruined himself.

Kicked out of his fancy little college for his fake identity, maybe even charged with it. All his new little friends would know who he was. It was the last bit of pettiness Oliver intended to allow himself to indulge in before he returned back to his hometown and let Baldur’s fragile new life come down around his ears.

Oliver smiled, trailing fingertips over the teal ink, the exact shade of Baldur’s hideous dye job. He still had a PI on retainer, taking pictures of his pretty boy out living his life. Oliver liked to keep tabs on his old flames, just to ensure they were keeping quiet, keeping to themselves, living nice respectable lives.

Lately, with his reduced income, he’d had to cut that down to tracking Baldur alone.

Christopher Stanton. Oliver snorted. Awful name. Hardly did any justice to the perfect line of his cheekbones, the still-gentle curve of his jaw, the nicely full lips that would no doubt still part just so with a press of the right fingertips-

“Daydreamin’, are we?” A strange male voice asked, and Oliver looked up to stare down the barrel of a gun.

His heart stopped, eyes caught by that circle of infinite black surrounded by unfeeling metal, and then he raised his eyes to see a man he had never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, draped in heavy clothing that disguised his body type, though he seemed a bit on the muscular side. Perfectly average face, difficult to describe to any law enforcement, blondish-red hair cut in a flattop, narrowed eyes, smattering of freckles. Too far to see the eye color.

Robbers, really? Tonight, of all nights?

Oliver put both palms carefully down on the table as his heart began to pound. “Can I help you?”

His voice was admirably steady, and he was more than a bit proud of himself for that. He did not visibly tremble or shake, but he was deeply, deeply aware of that gun. He could see the safety was off, the man’s finger resting lightly around the trigger.

“You can,” The man said, with a hint of amusement in the blocky lines of his face. It came out more like ye can, an accent Oliver couldn’t quite place. Irish, maybe? “Hearing some rumors, about someone planning to testify next week. I was hoping’ you’d be able to disabuse me of such a disturbin’ notion.”

Oliver blinked, caught off-guard by the man’s friendly, personable tone even as the gun never faltered but it’s position held pointed directly at him. “If you work for WRU-”

“Oh, I don’t. No, as heartbreaking as it is, lad, Rossi’s group got the WRU rejects pipeline all sewn up, don’t he? Clever fuck. And I am a good many things, but I’m not a man stupid enough to cross Giovanni Rossi. You don’t put that man in a bad mood and walk out alive, do you?” Once again, the word slipped into ye, and Oliver was sure now that the accent was Irish. Faded, with the local accent flattening the vowels and roughing up the consonants, but the Irish was there nonetheless.

It occurred to him that it didn’t really matter if he identified his accent, because he almost certainly wasn’t going to walk out of this alive if the man was so easily dropping names.

“I wouldn’t know. If you’re not with WRU, I don’t see why there’s-... there needs to be a problem,” Oliver said, without moving, barely even letting his lips form the wounds. His heart still pounded in his chest. His dreams of moving back home by the coast, to Charleston’s beauty and grandeur and age, were rapidly feeling like scraps of tissue paper dissolving in water.

“You’re not just testifyin’ about the company, now, are you?” The man sighed, pulling a chair out on the other end of the table, sitting down without lowering the gun, keeping it trained on Oliver, just shifting it slightly to aim directly into his chest.

Oliver had taken a few courses in self-defense, back in the day. Aim for the center mass, the easiest thing to hit. People in movies can nail an arm or a leg with accuracy but in real life it’s rarely so easy. Aim for something lethal.

“The trial is about the company,” Oliver said, voice shaking, his own genteel accent thickening the more the fear settled in.

“It is, at that,” The man said, nodding. “But it’s not only about that, either, is it?” He snapped the fingers on his other hand, and Oliver jumped nearly a foot in the air as he realized there were two other men standing behind him he hadn’t even noticed. They appeared on either side of him, one of them picking up the papers on the table and moving them over to the man, who gave a soft, polite thanks and looked them over.

Suddenly, Oliver’s different ink colors for different aspects of his speech seemed… superfluous. He was never going to give that speech.

“What else is it about?” Oliver asked, breathy. He was going to die, and he’d always hoped for one more chance to visit his parents’ graves. Spit on them once or twice, leave flowers, and go. He’d always hoped…

Something occurred to him.

“Is this about my Baldur?”

The man’s face twisted in an expression of utter, absolute disgust.

“Is that it? Did his new keeper send you to-”

“No. Oh no, fucknuts, no.” The man laughed, looking over the papers, flipping through them idly with one hand as his associate stepped back, one of them lurking on either side of Oliver, hands pressing steadily into his shoulders to keep him right where he was. “No, no. I’ve nothin’ to do with that young lib boy. Know of ‘im, though. We keep an eye out, on our own. It’s been a long, long time, but… I owe a debt.”

“A… A debt?” Oliver’s voice caught in his throat.

“Indeed.” The man set the papers down, and for a moment, Oliver could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, emotions that played openly across the man’s utterly nondescript face. Grief, anger, sadness all warred there.

The hands on his shoulders tightened.

“Long time ago now, but I don’t forget, do I? Ah, look, here ‘tis.” The man tapped his finger in the teal paragraph so carefully written on the third page of the speech. “Here’s our lad. Tristan.”

“Tristan-... are you talking about Baldur?”

The man snarled, and Oliver flinched back against the back of his chair, waiting for the burst of sound and the bullet and his own death. Nothing came, and after a moment he opened his eyes. The man had settled his expression, but it was with effort - the anger was still clearly visible. “I’m not talkin’ about your bullshite pet name in the slightest, you sack of shit. No, I’m talkin’ about my friend’s boy Tristan.”

Oliver swallowed, and offered, “I believe… I believe he goes by Christopher now. I could give you his address-”

“We know where he lives, gobshite.”

“Then why are you here-”

“I told you, my debt. You’re an awful thick, aren’t you? We’re not the type to abduct a wean, although that never gave your like a pause, did it?” The man tapped his gun on the table, the first time it had truly lowered since Oliver had first realized he was here. Oliver let out a breath of relief.

“What is your debt, exactly?” His voice was still airy, but he tried to sound calm, in control. Never moved his hands. “I still have some funds the courts are not aware of, perhaps we could work out a deal-.. I have a safe upstairs-”

“Not that kind of debt. I had to stand by when my mucker and his wife got his face shot in by our own boss, no less, but I’m the boss, now. Took a while, took too long. I’ve had to wait and wait and wait, but me and my lads here, we’ve all owed Paul Higgs a debt since, Lord, has it been nearly a decade now? And I intend to pay it tonight.”

The man smiled, briefly, at Oliver.

“Couldn’t stop Paul’s boy from the sufferin’ already inflicted, but I can ensure you don’t say a word about him ever again, can’t I? Ah, no, we can’t have that. He’s got a good life now. Nice boy, all grown up. Hair’s a bit bollocked but who are we to judge, hm? He’s got himself a nice life goin’ and I intend to ensure he does his da proud, just like he would’ve if he weren’t forced to fuck you, you depraved bit of dogshit on my shoe. Fucking a child. A boy. What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

Oliver didn’t even bother to open his mouth. He understood that any attempt at self-defense wasn’t needed or even wanted. He understood that probably there was absolutely nothing he needed to say, ever again. He closed his eyes, lips moving in some dim form of prayer.

“Ah. A man of God, then?” Oliver looked to see the man pull a rosary from underneath his shirt. “That’s a fuckin’ laugh, considering what you’ve done. But, hey, He’s forgiven worse, I imagine. Tristan might even forgive you, too, he was always too good a boy for it all. Too bad for you that I don’t forgive shite.”

“If you’re going to shoot me,” Oliver said, barely able to get his voice above a whisper, “then do it.”

“We’re not going to shoot you, idjit.” The man rolled his eyes, giving his companions an exasperated can you believe this? look. One of the men, the one on Oliver’s right, laughed. “They’d trace it, we’d have to deal with the law, and honestly I am just not in the mood to pay any cops off this week. I’ve already paid Rossi off to keep him from gettin’ pissed at me, although he’s a man who understands the value of family, I think he’d have let us anyway. Still, never hurts to grease a palm, does it? What we’re going to do, Mr. Branch, is drown you. Your bathtub’s chock full of river water.”

“What?” Oliver swallowed, jerking forward as if to push himself up, but the hands on his shoulders pushed him back down. “H-how-... why-”

“When we dump you in the Trelawney,” The man said, calm and easy, “your lungs’ll already be chock full of its water. Nothing unusual about that, hm? Just another child molester dumped in that chemical swamp where he belongs. My mucker’s boy-... I couldn’t help him. I’ve owed Paul for that, we all have. This is my organization, now, and I will ensure Paul’s boy’s name never leaves your lips again.” The man snapped his fingers and Oliver shouted as he was dragged to his feet by the other two, kicking out, knocking his chair over with a clatter.

Just beyond the window were a hundred other houses, lights on in some, families laughing in front of their televisions. Utterly unknowing as their neighbor was dragged upstairs to his own master bathroom, to a custom-made clawfoot tub absolutely full of disgusting, muddy river water dredged up and brought here and Oliver had never even known they were in the house.

They held his head over the water as he screamed for help.

The leader leaned back against the sink, lit a cigarette, took a long drag and let the smoke float over his face. His eyes were green, Oliver realized with a kind of hysterical panicked giggle. His eyes were green.

Like Baldur’s.

“W-wait-, wait-... one question, just one, one question-”

The leader held up his hand. They kept Oliver’s head a few inches above the brackish water in the tub.

“Paul Higgs-... Baldur’s-... the boy’s father.” Oliver could barely breathe, barely get out the words. He was going to die, why was this question so important? Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking it. “The boy’s-... just a friend?”

The leader snorted, flicked his cigarette onto the bedroom carpet through the bathroom door. A trail of thin smoke began to rise. “Paul was my best friend, yes,” He said flatly. “His da and mine were cousins. The looks run in the family, don’t they?”

“Why… why now? Why not before? When he was-... why only now?”

The man’s lip pulled to the side in a sneer. “Had to wait ‘til the company couldn’t protect you, didn’t I? You’re not a client now, Mr. Branch. Just a bit of blood on Karen Renford’s shoes. Loose thread. You’re not the only one keeps tabs on runaways, you know.”

“What?” Oliver’s eyes widened, the muddy water giving him a strange, distorted, half-transparent view of his own reflection. “What, what are y-you-”

“Ah, it’s not worth explaining this shite to him, is it?” The man rolled his eyes. “Renford knew where he was. She knows where all the runners are. She’s not going to let you fuck the company just to get your fifteen minutes, gobshite. I hate that insufferable bitch and she’s the one who made Paul’s boy into a pet, but I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth even if the one given’ it should probably be shot herself.”

“Wh-why-”

“Shut your feckin’ hole. We may not have the pleasure of a regular contract, but I was happy to accept this little job free of charge. Everyone gets what they want, don’t they? Paul’s boy gets his nice little life for keeping, Renford gets the blood out, and I get to make up to Paul what I couldn’t do back then. Ah, Tristan was a sweet boy. Bit of a wild thing, but…” The man sighed mournfully. “Well. We all lose people, in this business, Mr. Branch. I’m sorry to’ve lost him but I’d never think to take him from what he’s got. I’m no monster.”

Laughter bubbled in Oliver’s throat, and he barely held it back. No monster, but you’ll kill me, will you?

“Tonight, everyone gets what they want.”

“I wanted Charleston,” Oliver said, staring into the brownish silt-soaked water, thinking of the blue of the ocean, the waves battering the shore, white-capped on rougher days, the salt-smell of the sea. His mother’s hands holding him, sitting on his father’s shoulders, before it had all changed. “I, I wanted Charleston.”

The words were more plaintive than he intended them to be.

“Sad for you,” The leader said without sympathy. “The heart bleeds. Perhaps you should’ve kept your wee dick in your pants and not touched our friend’s boy, then, hm? Bit late for that, though. Hope the Good Lord’s feelin’ His mercy today, pervy fuck, ‘cause you’ll see none from us.”

He snapped his calloused fingers, and Oliver’s head went under the water. He’d jerked in a final breath just before, and as he held it - lungs burning, time running out - Oliver had only a single remaining defiance. His last thought, before he had to pull water into his lungs, before the thrashing and the choking and the final blackness that pulled him under, wasn’t of Baldur at all.

He was found in the Trelawney River, the water in his lungs a perfect match for the water around him. His bathtub had been recently cleaned, but that wasn’t suspicious, as his cleaner had been there only the day before and Oliver rarely took baths. His dinner table was clean of any sign of his final meal.

There were no papers on the table, or anywhere in the house, detailing his intended speech to the press. Those papers were burned and the ashes spread on the graves of Paul and Veronica Higgs, along with a fresh spray of daisies, Ronnie’s favorite flower.

Oliver Branch’s testimony could no longer be given, due to his untimely death.

The suggestion that he had killed himself because of the shame of his own actions made the rounds in the press, followed by certainty in certain spaces that he had been murdered to protect WRU on Karen’s orders.

Perhaps a handler had done it, the rumors went, sent by the strange emotionless Karen Renford, who sat on the stand and spoke with perfect diction and a total lack of feeling on the particulars of her job, and who had never once set off a lie detector in her life. Perhaps a pet liberation member had finally snapped - there had been an incident years ago with someone who had beaten Oliver nearly to unconsciousness, maybe that person had hunted him down again.

Maybe Karen had killed him herself.

The rumors went in circles, but no one ever guessed the truth.

Oliver’s final defiance was known only to him, and went with him to the grave he was eventually buried in. His final thought was simply of the crash of a white-capped wave against the shore.

Oliver Branch died thinking not of his crimes, but with the ocean behind his eyes.

#death of a villain #original fiction #drowning tw #gun tw #threats with gun tw #chris the strawberry blond romantic #oliver branch is gross #but also very dead now #so that's nice #whump #character death tw #creepy whumper #villain death #did anyone guess 'paul's mob friends'?#karen renford #wru #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse

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synark25 · 8 months

Text

in order; Comedy, Doc, Henry, Dr. Cotard, Ricky, Guide, Marksman, whatever this guy's name is, Confetti, & Tragedy

gonna draw icons for my non-employee OCs now

#lethal company #lethal company misfit crew #lethal company house crew #lethal company oc #oc #art #oc art #lethal company fanart #lethal company art #lethal company masked #never drawing an ushanka again btw

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Ontological

on·to·log·i·cal (adj.) Existing as such; metaphysical.

Eustass Kidd and Killer, during and afterwards.

(Or: Alliances are made. Killer and Zoro take care of some unfinished business.)

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Violence (and SMILE), Worst Gen Reunion Pre-Party

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. No additional warnings apply. Read Chapter 4 here.

***

The Kidd Pirates arrive as one: Kidd up front, grim-faced and radiating Haki, with Killer to his right and Heat to his left and Wire trailing behind, eyes on their backs. Ahead, a handful of houses cluster around the slow trickle of a stream and cherry trees that dot the ground in gentle patterns. Everything about it whispers sweet promises of harmony, of a place to rest their weary heads and heal wounds barely starting to scar.

Kidd doesn’t trust any of it one fucking bit.

People are gathered in a loose group, conversations hushed and hard to make out from afar. A Marine’s wet dream, really, with how many bounties Kidd recognizes at a glance – or their worst nightmare, given Monkey D. Luffy is one of them.

That straw-hatted head turns and keeps turning into an angle that would snap any neck not made of rubber. A smile, bright with surprise.

“Oh? Spikey! And Spikey’s friend!”

Completely unaffected by the wave of tangible will Kidd pushes on them all, and after days of sharing a prison cell it just makes Kidd’s mouth tug into a grin. “Strawhat.”

(Through his mask Killer mutters, “Spikey’s friend”, like he’s contemplating if he likes it or not. Not that Strawhat would change a thing about it either way.)

Both Strawhat’s and Trafalgar’s crews are there, at least partially. Kidd spots the polar bear and those two idiots staring right at him – one of which jumps to his feet and runs inside – while that blonde guy with the kicks and Zoro flank their captain with little subtlety.

So they’re alive after all. Seems like Strawhat is not the only one capable of surviving an encounter with Kaido.

Still, Kidd isn’t here for handshakes and kisses. This is business and the way Strawhat’s expression turns a little pensive proves the brat has some braincells rattling in the attic, dusty as it must be up there.

“Where’s Trafalgar? We gotta talk.”

Strawhat just groans. “Another meeting? It’s lunch time! Sanji, you promised lunch.”

“That I did”, says Blondie around a mouthful of smoke. He nods at Kidd, curly brow raised. “You. Spikey. Any of you got a problem with eel? We’re having unagi.”

One more annoying than the other. Heat oohs behind Kidd, however, quiet enough it stays between them. That una-stuff must be good, then.

Kidd gives Killer a look; Killer tilts his head. Your choice. Kidd sighs.

“Fine, whatever. Hurry it up, we’re not staying.”

“Hey!”, the bear pipes up from the sidelines. The very moment Kidd’s eyes land on him, his frowned ferocity turns bashful and he looks to his feet, ears folded. “Sorry, um. I think we should wait for Captain.”

Strawhat makes an indistinct noise around the something-on-a-skewer he just shoved in his mouth. Once done, he uses the stick to point in Kidd’s general direction. “Nah, they’re okay. Right, Spikey?”

Before Kidd can utter the fuck you already on his lips, the swordsman to Strawhat’s right hums. “Luffy”, Zoro murmurs in that serious voice of his, one that demands to be heard without much effort. “Bepo’s right.”

And his gaze is focused on Killer, not Kidd, an arm casually coming to rest on his swords – there’s a similar tension in the way Killer holds himself, on his guard despite the lack of aggression in the air. (Breathing shallowly like he does when he’s trying to maintain the little control he has these days, like it’s better to go without altogether than laugh in company like this.)

Kidd glares. The metal around him starts to tremble.

“Eustass.”

Only one person says his name like that. The snarl on Kidd’s lips doesn’t go anywhere, especially with the indifferent glance Trafalgar Law acknowledges him with as he steps out of the shadows. All disgruntled like Kidd disturbed his beauty sleep or crashed a particularly boring match of chess or… any other thing a guy with that long a stick up his ass might do in his downtime.

Eugh, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

“Trafalgar. Sure took your sweet time.”

The guy’s eyes narrow a little; Kidd smirks. The gears are already in motion under that ridiculously fluffy hat of his and well, Kidd did promise Killer he’d be civil. For the most part.

“You’re the one trespassing.” Trafalgar’s voice is all smooth disdain, no nonsense. “What do you want?”

Straight to the point. There are some qualities to be appreciated about him, arrogant prick or not. Kidd spits on the ground.

“Alright, listen up. Strawhat, you too.”

Strawhat actually does, giving him a curious look over the bowl of sauce-drenched rice he’s currently tearing into. Lunch time, right. Trafalgar merely blinks, unimpressed.

Rolling his shoulders, Kidd lets himself feel the ache of metal on scars, familiar, anchoring him in his body. The presence of his crew around him settles his senses, solid and always there in the periphery.

For days he’s breathed around the wrath in his lungs, spoken every word with the thrumming of his pulse in his throat. When Kidd smiles, it’s with lips red as blood and teeth bared like fangs.

There was a decision to make, and Kidd has made it.

“That war of yours? We want in.”

Later, much later, Kidd turns his back and Killer follows.

Heat and Wire are long gone, sent back to let the others know and prepare the Punk for battle. There’s much to be done still and little time to do it – Kidd thinks of the hell that will rain upon those who dared cross them and knows it will be worth it. This time, there will be no retreat. No mercy. Whatever the outcome, be it victory or death, it will be painted in shades of red.

Tomorrow, they sail for Onigashima.

Killer is next to him until he isn’t. Kidd blinks, stops, glances over his shoulder to see Killer's hand fall to the swords at his side.

“You.”

Amidst the sprawling fields between them and the hideout stands Zoro. The wind makes the grass surge like waves; it touches upon a face that has lost the guise of civility to reveal the demon underneath. This isn’t happening, shoots through Kidd’s mind, not again, and he growls as Haki gathers within him, ready to burst–

“Wait.”

Killer’s hand is on his chest, big and strong over the war drum of Kidd’s heart. “Wait”, Killer repeats and the calm of his voice cracks apart on a chuckle. Kidd’s gaze moves from the tension in Killer’s arm to Zoro’s eye and the recognition that sparks there.

Kidd remembers: Cuts across Killer’s chest, overlapping, all three of them deep and guaranteed to scar. Killer’s tightlipped silence over who did it, who hurt him–

“Come closer and I’ll tear you apart”, a venomous hiss more than strained with how hard Kidd’s jaw is clenched but he listens to Killer, always has when Killer’s this serious about something.

All Zoro does is stare at Killer’s mask, a gaze sharp enough to pierce layers of paint and welded metal. He says: “Those swords aren’t yours to wield. You should give them back.”

Killer huffs out an amused breath and for once, it’s genuine. “It can’t be helped. Someone took my scythes.”

An amusement that Zoro seems to share with the slightest uptilt of his mouth, “Is that so”, idle yet the threat in his stance goes nowhere. “What was it again? ‘Don’t talk down to the shogun’… or something along those lines.”

Killer’s fingers clench where they’re tangled in Kidd’s shirt. Zoro looks from that up to Kidd, smile growing all the more lethal.

“You didn’t tell him?”

Worded like a question when it’s not even close to one, and Kidd tries not to bristle, he really does. As if Zoro knows shit about anything, about them, about the living nightmare Killer’s been stuck in since–

Half a step and Killer shifts between them, sword half-way out of its sheath. Hisses, “Leave him out of this”, and Killer laughs despite the anger begging to be heard in there somewhere.

“Orochi means nothing to me. Nothing. He’ll die a dog’s death just like the rest of them.”

Kidd might not get what the hell they’re going on about but there’s real hurt in it, too, and suddenly all he wants is for Zoro to laugh. To mock Killer so Kidd can make good on the promise he gave his partner the day they went to sea and slaughter him like all the bastards that came before him.

Then… Zoro hums and that aura is gone, snuffed out with a blink and a scratch to bright green hair. “I kept the scythes, y’know. Would be a waste not to let them taste a fair battle.”

Killer doesn’t relax as much as he exhales a tired sigh. His sword is sheathed; a moment later his hold on Kidd drops and Kidd almost stumbles, only now realizing how hard he was pushing against the immovable line of Killer’s arm.

With steady hands, Killer unties the two shortswords from his waist and crosses the distance to hand them over. “A bit far to go for some stolen blades”, Killer tells him, an edge of annoyance there that Zoro shrugs off casually.

Kidd watches the interaction with narrow-eyed focus, waiting for the step out of line that never comes. Zoro meets his gaze only briefly, the eyebrow over his blind eye twitching upwards. As cocky and infuriating as his captain, Kidd’s mouth opens before he can stop himself.

“Try a stunt like that again and you’re dead, Pirate Hunter.”

The swordsman smirks, “I’ll take my chances”, before he turns to leave. Damn-near strolling back to his crew with a jaw-cracking yawn, and Kidd grinds his teeth and lets him.

Fucking Strawhats.

Yet Killer is still staring after him, still hesitating. “The girl”, he calls after Zoro. “The one who laughed. Is she alive?”

Zoro stops, glances over his shoulder, a little puzzled. “Toko? Yeah, she’s safe.” A pause. “They executed her father. A good man.”

Killer’s head lowers. “What a shame”, he agrees, too quiet for the other to understand him. Zoro walks on and so does Killer, a step or two ahead before he tilts his mask at Kidd, waiting.

“You coming, Captain?”

Kidd banishes all thoughts of their rivals – allies, for now – out of his head and joins Killer.

And Kidd stays close, perhaps too close; their hands brush every few steps. With a fond huff, Killer’s fingers hook around Kidd’s and doesn't let go all the way to the Punk.

>>Chapter 4.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #roronoa zoro #kidkiller #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #i swear the fluff is coming... next time...#this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff #one piece spoilers

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37-children-of-the-dreams · 3 years

Text

Day #29: It's A Long Shot

So, there's only a couple of weeks left. I'm sad to say goodbye, but my fic must end soon. Korkie is nowhere to be seen and Crosshair might become a traitor. I hope we do see what happens to Crosshair and have a glimpse of a certain Mandalorian, but it's long shot for them to be together.

----------------

The mob of people were not happy to walk to the forest. Sure, Notoh was a rich and powerful man, but they all heard the rumors about Fennec's change. From the people who saw Fennec earlier it seemed that she had a powerful crew. There was an imposing sniper and rich mercenary with Fennec and they listened to her like she was the leader. The Fennec they knew from the times she wanted to be part of the rich social circle was gone and in her place was a woman with dignity.

"Notoh," one of the mobsters said. "Must we really go to the Shands?"

"That Luka has insulted me one last time!" Notoh cried.

The mob softly groaned. Luka never really mocked anyone, and Notoh was not an exception. The man was just so soft skinned when it comes to insults. To be honest, Luka hadn't said anything wrong. He just said that if his crops were worthless to Notoh, then he can own them because he can literally buy all of them if they didn't cost much.

"Quiet!" Notoh screamed. "I have the money you all wanted. We get Fennec as my mistress and I will get your money."

The man had his head up so high that the mob could do nothing to stop him. Not even when one of them saw a sniper rifle aiming at the mob.

BANG!

The mob screamed and ran off from the path. Some stayed for the money, but others ran away. They have never fought off bounty hunters. The last time someone had fought a bounty hunter, the town lost two people and a building. They were not taught to fight people like them and just because it was Fennec did not mean they were still willing to fight her and her crew. They had the money and the firearms to end lives.

"Cowards!" Notoh whimpered. He was hugging the ground as some of the mobs ran. He was terrified, but he wanted Luka embarrassed and Fennec a slave.

Above a tree, Crosshair laughed in delight inside his helmet. Sure, it was rather sadistic of him to enjoy a few people's suffering, but on the other hand, these were the people who wanted to destroy Fennec's family. Which means they wanted to destroy Crosshair's surrogate family. He lost his brothers because of a misunderstanding, so he can't afford to have Fennec lose her family.

He might never tell them due to his stubbornness, but Korkie and Fennec had made him realize that he needs to find his brothers and try to mend thing with them. To Crosshair, if he never met Korkie and had him make Fennec his apprentice, then he might have enough courage to actually face Clone Force 99, his Bad Batch.

Crosshair looked through his sniper scope and saw that Notoh had stood up and was slowly walking to the house. He knew from the look that the man was terrified and that Crosshair had a chance to scare him into knowing that making his sister a mistress would just kill Notoh. Fennec had the best teachers the galaxy had given her. Crosshair taught her how to shoot lives in ten klicks and Korkie taught her how what it meant to have a bit of luxury despite her background. Crosshair got off the tree and spooked the entire mob that stayed with Notoh.

"So," Crosshair said as he readied his rifle. "You're the idiot who wants my dear sister as a mistress. Sorry, but that will never happen even if I die."

"And who are you?" Notoh whined. "And what sister? We only know Fennec Shand."

"I'm Crosshair. Fennec's teacher and her older brother!"

Notoh gasped and then laughed.

"So one of the Shands is a whore? I should have known."

Crosshair shot the ground Notoh was standing.

"No. I was the best sniper in the Grand Army of the Republic. My partner, Korkie Kryze, had begged me to teach Fennec because he saw her potential and my potential as a teacher. I'm only saying this once. Stay. Away. Fennec can kill you in ten klicks."

Crosshair then grabbed a smoke flower from his pocket. Korkie told him to bring one to scare the mob away if it can stop the fight. He smashed the flower and disappeared back to the Shands' small farmhouse. Korkie was waiting for him as the Shands were nowhere seen.

"How was it?" Korkie asked.

"They're not stopping," Crosshair admitted. "I don't think I did much."

"You did enough. Fennec has her parents hidden in a basement. She'll be here."

At once, Fennec enter the scene and looked at Crosshair. She couldn't see past his helmet, but she knew from his body language that the mob was not stopping. Fennec readied her rifle as she walked towards the two.

"I really have to thank you both," she said. "If I never met you two, I don't think I would be back here with the amount of experience I have now."

Crosshair patted Fennec's back. "You were not what I wanted as a sister, but I guess the galaxy said I need you."

Fennec punched Crosshair's arm and hugged him. Fennec never had a sibling before, but she now has two that cared for her. Maybe down the line Fennec would have to leave them to make her own solo career, but for now, she prefers having her sibling around.

Korkie looked over the hill that came before the Shands' house and sighed. He really hates ruining soft moments. He likes it when the three had these nice and calm moments that made it seemed that they weren't in danger from anything. Yet, Notoh and his mob were coming.

"Time's unfortunately up," Korkie called. "Sorry, but we need to end things now."

"So another kill?"Crosshair smirked. "My, my. You're not the pacifist you were once upon a time."

"The world is changing and I must adapt. I'm still friendly, right?"

Fennec giggled. "No. You're nice."

Korkie rolled his eyes as he concentrates on the Force. He can feel the amount of life there was in just the area and felt the power of the Force guiding him. Fennec and Crosshair had their rifles aimed at the entrance of the garden. There was little to ran away and sneak behind the snipers. They were ready for a fight. One Force-user and two snipers in sync.

The mob stopped as the sight. Fennec Shand was in front of the older male sniper. The other man, a Mandalorian from what one of them knew was not armed, but still felt dangerous.

"Notoh," another mobster said. "We need to leave. I think they have a Jedi."

"The Jedi are no more," Notoh hissed. "They were all killed."

Notoh looked at the three and walked toward the crew.

"Fennec," cooed. "It's me. Notoh, you know, the richest man?"

Fennec shot at his feet. She did not want to talk to him.

Notoh saw this as a challenge and ran to her. The mob reluctantly ran with him. Korkie used the Force to push the mobsters away from Fennec and Crosshair as the snipers started shooting at them. They chose to do it non-lethal, but it did not mean they shouldn't be kind to the people.

The mobsters ran away after knowing there was a Jedi with the Shands and they didn't want to fight one. The rest that stayed fought with Notoh as he ran to Fennec only for her to beat him with her rifle. Fennec shot his left leg and kicked him from Korkie and Crosshair.

She wanted to fight him alone. She stopped using her rifle just punched him as he got up. She never forgot how he always degraded her family as peasants and made passes to her as she walked through town. She wanted him to know how much she had changed and that she was stronger than him. Notoh was on his knees as Fennec was pausing to fight him. He saw her as a woman who can kill him.

"How?" he sobbed. "You were just a naive girl."

"The galaxy had given me the best teachers," she announced. "Crosshair is the best sniper you will ever met, and Korkie is what you'll never be as a noble. You were just a stepping stone to my future. So thank you."

Fennec punched him for the last time and he was knocked out cold. Fennec ran back to Crosshair and Korkie. She smiled as they were actually waiting for her. Crosshair pointed at Korkie and Korkie shrugged.

"Where are they?" she asked.

"Well," Crosshair said. "I said to Korkie that he needed to lift one of them, and he listened."

"We need to leave," Korkie said. "With your parents. It won't be safe for them to live here anymore. The Empire might kill them for knowing us."

Fennec nodded, but she looked confused. Where would her family live? They only had this planet as their home and they wouldn't be safe if they stayed in the planet.

"I know where they can stay," Crosshair said. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," Fennec said.

The three went inside the house as Luka and Kristal Shand had went out of the basement. Luka felt the Force and knew they have to leave the planet. It wasn't safe for them anymore and they had to find another home. Thankfully, they already prepared the essentials and just needed to leave the furniture.

"Mama, Papa," Fennec cried. "I'm sorry, but we have to leave."

"I know," Luka said.

"I got our stuff in these bags," Kristal said.

Taking the bags so the Shands wouldn't be held down much, the five ran from the forest and the town. The starship was still there with no one finding it and they entered the ship without a problem. Crosshair and Korkie engaged the thrusters and they were off the planet and into space in minutes.

"Where will we be living at?" Luka asked.

Crosshair looked at Korkie who nodded.

"I have a nanny," Korkie said. "She's been living alone in this huge mansion. She prefers company and I know the birds aren't the best of company."

Crosshair snorted. They really weren't in his mind. He still remembered how they tried to steal his meal.

The Shands looked at each other. They never lived at a mansion before. What would they would there?

"Don't worry," Crosshair said. "Nanny Rana might be needing some kitchen work. Korkie's family might be visiting them and we need a cover story for why he's gone."

"But Korkie just told his old friends that you're not married," Fennec reminded him.

"Yes, but how long ago was that?"

"A few hours!"

"Mandalorians don't need a ceremony to be married," Korkie stated. "Just some vows. We need a cover story just to end my life as a Kryze."

Fennec smacked both men behind their heads. She loved them, but sometimes they were just to difficult to understand with their crazy ideas. She led her parents away from the men and went to the kitchen. She needs to eat for whatever has going to happen.

#korkie kryze #korkie kenobi #crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #fennec shand #the bad batch #korkie x crosshair #star wars #fanfic

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jacklyn-flynn · 4 years

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It’s finally here! The new chapter of Space Trash! You can find the full chapter here on AO3!

It’s a little on the long side, but hopefully worth it. Also, smut next chapter 😉

Jules and the crew heads to Redcliffe to finalize the alliance with the rebel mages but things go, per usual, spectacularly wrong.

Jules couldn’t help but notice the occasional, curious gaze from the elf behind the bar in the Officer’s Club. It wasn’t necessarily intrusive but since they were the only ones in the room, it was hard not to notice. Jasoom was lounging lazily across her shoulders, his tail occasionally flicking across her cheek. His very presence was soothing and helped her not feel anxious about being the center of someone’s attention.

The woman busied herself behind the bar and then walked, or rather sauntered, over to Jules with a drink in her hand. She was rather unlike any of the other elves that Jules had met. Her hourglass figure was a sharp contrast to her usually tall, lithe brethren. Black pants molded to her legs, rising high on her wide hips and accenting her slim waist. Jules wondered if she knew that she had a wide rip across her right knee. She wore a navy blue flannel shirt with thick black lines that was mostly unbuttoned, showing a black shirt beneath with a lacy neckline.

Her hair was dark green and perfectly straight, falling to the small of her back. It swung from side to side slightly when she walked. Silver rings adorned the tips of her ears, which was common, but the decorations in her lobes were completely foreign to Jules. There were wide circles through the lobes that she could see through, beyond the light mandala pattern that capped the front.

She had a cute button nose under upturned eyes that were framed in dark liner with flicks at the corners. If it wasn’t for the friendly smile on her black-painted lips, she would have looked suspicious of Jules.

“Can I sit?” Her voice was low for a woman but in a melodic way that harmonized well with her attire’s inclination toward black.

“Please, help yourself.” Jules couldn’t help but smile back at the elf.

“My name is Elbereth. Or El.” She slid gracefully into the seat and set the drink she’d prepared in front of Jules. “On the house for the lost Trevelyan.”

“Oh, thank you. I appreciate it but I don’t drink.” Jules said with a gentle smile.

“I know. You can’t get drunk. That’s what makes you a bartender’s best friend. I can get you to try all of my best experiments and get an unbiased opinion, “ Elbereth said cheerfully.

Jules’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I suppose that would make me quite the useful asset.”

El’s laugh was low and musical. “You aren’t a tool, dear. First of all, you can say no. Second of all, I’d like to give you companionship in return. Ya know, be friends.”

Feeling a blush on her cheeks, Jules covered it by lifting the glass to examine the drink. It was in a small, square glass with very distinct layers. The bottom was a rich reddish-brown color. The next layer was more of a warm amber while the third was more of a bright gold. On the top was a very thin layer of something creamy. The entire thing smelled of hazelnuts and was vaguely woody and spicy.

“All at once?” Jules asked, looking through her lashes at the elf who nodded, her smile broadening. With more hesitation then El was used to seeing when people drank shots, Jules brought the glass to her lips and drank it slowly. She was pleased to see Jules take some time to evaluate the flavor before swallowing the concoction.

“That’s-that’s actually really good,” Jules said after a moment of contemplation. Her smile widened slightly. “I don’t get them often, but I’m quite fond of hazelnuts.”

“I have some chocolate that you’ll love then.” El laughed, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll bring it with me on my next shift so that you can try some.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be back for a while. We’ll be arriving at Redcliffe soon to meet with the leader of the rebel mages. She wants to talk more before she agrees to ally herself with the Inquisition.” Jules’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone just wants to talk. It’s exhausting, saying the same thing a dozen different ways. They make it so difficult and I don’t understand why. It should be easy.”

El nodded sympathetically. “Politics require a unique form of communication. It’s one that not even the people who speak it fully understand. Honestly, I don’t know if you’ll ever get the hang of it.”

Jules frowned and looked up at the elf again. “You don’t think so?” She sounded disappointed.

“No, but that isn’t a bad thing.” Elbereth sat up again, leaning toward Jules. “Sometimes they get so lost in the talking they forget what they’re supposed to be working toward. A new voice is a disruption and sometimes disruption is what you need to break the cycle and get results. You aren’t a politician or diplomat, but that’s a good thing, Jules.”

“I don’t even understand why they want me there. I’m just a Flea.” Jules reached up to scratch Jasoom’s head when he pushed it against her cheek.

“You aren’t ‘just’ anything.” El gave her a smile. “You are a marvel, and we’ve only begun to see what you’re capable of.”

()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()

Jules adjusted the belt of the holster that carried Zevran’s, or rather her, blades. The harness wrapped around her waist and then around each thigh, keeping the short blades tight against her legs, moving as she did. She smiled at her teacher as he disappeared into the transport with Cassandra. Cullen's smile was the one that caught her attention though. He reached out to her and she grasped his hand, letting him pull her closer to him.

“I’ve seen how far you’ve come. You’re fast and lethal. But-” he hesitated, brows furrowed, “-I feel like I should tell you that it will be completely different when you’re in a real battle. It’s loud and it’s bloody and it’s scary.” Squeezing her hand, he brushed his fingers down her cheek. “Don’t lose your head. Breathe, stay calm, and stay close to everyone else. Most of all, be careful. I want you-I need you-to come back.”

“I’ll be surrounded by very dangerous people. I promise I’ll be careful and that I’ll come back. Besides, we’re just going to talk.” She pointed out.

“I hope so.” He didn’t want to scare her any more than he probably already had. She was right. Jules would be in very good company. “Could I kiss you goodbye?”

Immediately, Jules felt a flush spread on her cheeks. They had talked about their spontaneous kiss in the hallway. She’d been so relieved that she hadn’t driven him away. Jules had surprised herself with her impulsive gesture. They’d both agreed to take it slowly. Her to adjust to the feeling of attraction she’d never felt before, and him to ensure he didn’t take advantage of that. Other than that talk, it hadn’t been brought up again. Until now.

“I would like that.” Her admission came with a hesitant smile. The confidence in his smile, however, made her shiver though she didn’t exactly know why. He bent his head, closing his eyes as he drew near. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his. He was so warm and so inviting. She could do this all day long. She let out a hum of disappointment when he pulled away, her lips chasing his for a moment. “Will I get another one when I come back?”

He laughed, sending warmth through her. Maker, he was gorgeous when he laughed. “Absolutely.” He walked her to the shuttle door, squeezing her hand before he released her. “Be safe.”

With a nod, she turned away and mounted the ramp. Heading to the front, she rested her hand on the back of the pilot’s chair. “Cassandra, I-” With a start, she took a step back. “You aren’t Cassandra.”

“Nope!” A pale silver-skinned Qunari woman grinned up at her. “Sure aren’t!” Small spiral horns peaked out of her mauve hair, their color a blend of her hair and skin. She wore black and grey leather pants and jacket, the Inquisition logo stitched on the breast. “Catch!”

Jules’s hand shot up to catch the object that was thrown at her face. “Nice reflexes!” The woman complimented as Jules opened her hand to see what it was. It was a small dracolisk figure. The protruding horns and spikes were replaced with shiny little jewels. Even bejeweled, they were truly ugly creatures. When she handed it back, the Qunari set it on the console in front of her, affectionately turning it just so. “Thanks. My name is Sonja Trygvassen. Most people just call me Tryg.”

Cassandra moved past Jules to take the co-pilot’s seat. “Ms. Trygvassen is a pilot that I’ve worked with extensively in the past. She’s quite good.” The Seeker was reserved with her compliments so Jules knew she meant it. “Since I am needed elsewhere, I thought she would be an adequate replacement.”

“Adequate? I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me, Cassie.” Tryg grinned. Jules saw Cassandra’s jaw clench at the nickname. She got the distinct impression that no one else was allowed to call her “Cassie.” Perhaps not even Tryg.

“Did you need something from me?” Cassandra asked, clearly hoping she wouldn’t ask about the nickname.

“I-um-I don’t remember,” Jules admitted. “I’ll just go take my seat. It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Tryg gave her a nod and then turned back to her console.

Shaken by the odd encounter, she returned to the back of the shuttle, taking a seat between Morgan and Zevran. Varric sat across from them, his precious Bianca cradled in his lap. His head was resting against the back of the seat and his eyes were closed. “Are you okay, Varric?”

He didn’t even open his eyes when he responded. “Oh yeah, Precious. I’m just peachy. Nothing like hurtling through space into an atmosphere that sets you on fire in a tin can propelled by highly flammable fuel. What could possibly go wrong?”

Jules frowned and looked at Morgan, unsure by Varric’s reply if he was okay or not. “He’s being sarcastic. He’s scared of flying.” Morgan translated with a chuckle.

“I’m not scared of flying,” Varric said indignantly, “I’m afraid of crashing.”

The hydraulics of the shuttle door whirred as it closed. The solid thunk of the locks engaging was reassuring. To Jules at least. Varric looked like he was walking to the gallows. When the shuttle left the Herald’s dock, she noticed his knuckles turn white as he gripped Bianca. Jules couldn’t imagine being afraid of flying. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly.

“Only if we do not die.” Zevran's laugh always made her smile.

“In other words, yes, he’ll be okay.” Morgan joined in the laughter. Varric made a mocking face, silently mimicking them and making it clear what he thought of their ribbing. “Let me know if you need someone to hold your hair for you.”

“Stow it, Beefcake.” The dwarf grumbled.

#Space Trash #jules trevelyan #cassandra pentaghast #varric tethras #zevran arainai #morgan trevelyan #dorian pavus #that bitch alexius #redcliffe runaround #beefcake #precious #zexy #seeker #meeting elbereth and tryg

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tarithenurse · 5 years

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The good Villain - 8

Based on the prompt “You’re the villain and you know that you just want the ‘good guys’ to understand why”

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader Content: Mission with all it entails: violence, killing, gore, angst. We also have a bit of fluff going on at some point though it’s paired with a neat scoop of denial. And much more! A/N: Busy day today! Gonna attend a wedding that’s been 20 years in the waiting or so, and it’s Superbowl night which is always fun…though it’s more for the company for me. Thanks for all the loving, reblogs, and likes!

Chapter 8

… Reader …

He was everywhere you went. Not just the meetings where you and the Avengers put your heads together in an effort to intensify the search for the last Leech but also when you were going to the kitchen or even at night, Loki would either already be there or appear shortly after. One day Romanoff showed you the gym with all its equipment begging to be used and it took less than an hour before the Asgardian revealed the library, telling you how you could normally find him there.

At first you suspected he was guarding you due to lack of trust. You may not have been a prisoner anymore, there was no cell at least, but you were still a stranger disrupting the natural balance in a group vital to this planet. As time passed, however, and you spent time on scouting missions and at the team’s base it became evident that his reasoning was personal.

This theory was solidified the day Banner announced to have found a potential suspect.

Together with Stark and Romanoff, he had created a series of algorithms scouring the digital records of Terrans within a certain area to compare medical data, and social media, plus changes in their behavioural patterns. The metal-armed Barnes and his friend with the shield had left to verify the suspicion before you were notified.

All you could do was wait. The moment they returned, you confronted them.

…

“Another restless night?” Loki’s voice is a clear chime calling you back to reality gently.

Swinging down from the bar to land on the floor, you shake your limbs out after the exercises without worthying him an answer. Just go. Of course, he does not leave, choosing instead to draw nearer.

Plopping onto a bench along the wall, you feel the restlessness return as an itch in your legs and a chest full of knots of worry. Tomorrow. You have stopped counting the time spent hunting the monsters that killed your crew – your friends – a long time ago. One goal. One all-consuming mission culminating with a plan that you have gotten approved by the Captain. Tomorrow. By this time tomorrow, your hunt will be over. I should be relieved, but I am not.

As if reading your mind, Loki nudges you gently back to the present. “Do not worry, my pet.” He sits down next to you, calm and cool. “Everything will go well…the plan is good.”

“I know.” Being near to him soothes your nerves if only a little.

“Then you can clear your name, live your life.” There is an edge to his voice which you cannot place. “Regain your honour.”

“No.” You can see the answer startles him. “I will return, but not to clear my name.”

“You are innocent! You may have escaped prison, but you got justice fo-“

“Justice?” You barely contain the sarcastic laughter as you round on him. “Do not pretend to think this ever was about justice or honour! It was revenge and nothing more! The leeches are simply a species doing what they must whereas I was the one who brought my crew in danger…th- hrm…the one who brought their end upon them.” Ignoring his protests, you carry on, unable to stop despite a breaking voice now you have started talking. “I shall return home…face the Elders and accept my punishment with peace in my heart.” Fists balled and body shaking, restlessness has morphed through anger into determination.

“You’ve nothing to atone for!” he cries out, a cold hand grasping yours and sending (not unpleasant) shivers along your spine, “y- ‘tis time for you to live.”

“That is not your decision…and why do you even care?”

From what you have learned about the smooth-talking God of Mischief, the sight of him sitting there with his mouth ajar yet nothing to say is rare. A soft blush paints the pale face even as he gathers his wits once more. “At least stay for the celebration. The uh they always mark a successful completion of a mission with a party.”

You hesitate, knowing that it will only be postponing the inevitable. Still, a little chip of your heart is urging you to accept the offer. One night of freedom. Looking down, you realize his hand has not moved but that at some point you have returned the gesture by wrapping your fingers around his. Oh. Gingerly, perhaps not to appear rude, you free yourself from the connection and start to leave.

“…[Y/N]…?”

Why do I hesitate? Maybe the question is unnecessary if only you would accept a new feeling inside your chest. “Fine, I will participate in the revels.”

… Loki …

It is a dreary morning with grey clouds hanging low over the city, shielding it from the beginning day at least until the sun eventually would gain enough power to evaporate the layer. For now, however, it also served as a natural softener of all sounds as the mismatch tea of Midgardians, Asgardians, and a Betan move towards the house in the suburbs.

The entrance is swift and quiet. In groups of two or three, they move from room to room. Loki is among those covering the ground floor and it allows him to see the father of the family rounding on Barnes who only keeps a safe distance between them thanks to a strong hold with the metal arm. By the Norns! What they had expected to be a docile civilian opens his mouth further than humanly possible to reveal a black nothingness where teeth and tongue should have been. A strange sound of air being sucked picks up for a second before a shimmering metal rod flies past Barnes’ face and into the gaping mouth, effectively killing the not-so-human man.

“What…the fuck?!” Barnes’ is clearly shaken as he stares at the corpse.

Everyone else is looking to [Y/N] who steps over to retrieve her weapon.

“Leech.” She wipes off the blood on the dead’s pants with a sigh. “Once the soul is completely gone the feeding Leech can choose to either let the corpse die naturally…or they can multiply by inserting a shard of themselves.”

“So…the others?” Rogers might both be referring to the former victims of the Leeches as well as the rest of the family.

“Doubt it,” [Y/N] shrugs, “does not seem to be possible several times in a row…”

There is a soft sound over the com in Loki’s ear and he knows everyone on the team hears it too when Natasha speaks. “Eyes on kids and mother upstairs, left off the stairs.”

“On my way,” the Betan responds before continuing to the three males around her, “get this one on there.” She motions to the couch.

Rather than helping them, Loki hurries after [Y/N].

Upstairs, the sight is differently gruesome with three Avengers’ weapons trained on a girl of maybe six years and her mother who is cradling a baby in her arms – a clearly lifeless child though the woman does not seem to have noticed neither that nor the intruders. In fact, only the little girl appears to be aware of anything. Blond curls, rosy cheeks, dead eyes staring at the strangers.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Stark groans, “it’s the kid?”

“Of course…no one mistrusts a youngling. They can get close enough to feed.” The hollow voice of the Betan does nothing to resolve the tension, and it is possible to see Barton’s bow tremble.

Stark simply powers down the weapons imbedded in the suit’s gloves. “I…I can’t do it.”

“Go downstairs,” Natasha offers, “you too, Clint.”

…

Grim faces on everyone. Gathered in the living room, they have placed the entire family in the couch – three of them with lethal wounds as proof of the closest thing to mercy the Betan could grant. Now she is rummaging through the kitchen while the others try to come to terms with what has happened. Words unspoken, yet most of the Avengers clearly shaken.

“Let’s get outta here,” Stark croaks, “clean-up’s coming to deal with…this.” The half-hearted wave of his hand encompasses the entire situation.

The Betan returns with several bottles of flammable liquids and all the paper around. “No rush…”

She barely gets time to open the cleaning alcohol before the remedies are snatched from her by the Captain. “Not this time.”

“We have to.”

“I said no.”

“But in a mo-“

“No!”

Ignoring the order, [Y/N] tries to bypass him only to be shoved backwards into Loki’s arms that instinctively wrap around her. “Not this time, pet, let them do this the Midgardian way.”

Suddenly, he has to fight to hold her back as a panicked anger takes over her mind. Curses and warnings become garbled as she screams out the frustrations, and the rage only subsides once Loki has managed to drag her outside though the woman does not relax. Eyes trained on the door. Body taught and shivering against his chest.

“It’s okay, pet,” he soothes, “it’s over. You can let go of it.”

“Not yet…not over yet…”

As if to prove her right a gun goes off inside. Once. Twice. Moments later smoke begins to billow, herding out Thor, Stark, Clint, Rogers, Romanoff, and Barnes.

“The…the father…” the metal-suited man explains, “he…woke up? He started moving…”

Flames are licking against the windows now and it is possible to feel the heat already. Finally, with a deep sigh, [Y/N] relaxes against the Asgardian’s chest, allowing the years of stress to be replaced with a bone-deep exhaustion.

She is asleep in his embrace by the time they return.

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heartwoodventures · 4 years

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If You Go Down to the Woods Today Pt. 1

The latest posting pinned to Heartwood’s job board had seemed like any other. Something had been terrorizing the people around Buscarron’s Druthers. Some unfortunate soul would go missing only for their body to be found days later in the woods, bloody and broken. As the Company was inclined to do, they took on the job, assuring the Wood Wailers they could solve the problem. Honestly, to most of them it sounded like nothing more than a hunt for a wild beast that had gotten a little too comfortable around the forest settlement. Easy gil.

So, with the collective ease of people who had been down this road before, Heartwood’s mercenaries started drifting into the yard of the Company house at the appointed time by ones and twos, ready to meet the client and get on with it. Aislinn, sitting on a nearby bench had her head bent over the handgonne laying across her lap, forever making little adjustments to the finicky firearm as she chatted amiably with Aiswyda, the towering Roegadyn’s sunny disposition belying the grim reason for this gathering. The two of them had joined up at nearly the same time and yet Aislinn couldn’t pinpoint when this mercenary business had become like old hat to them.

Khora and Zorah stood nearby and now and then snippets of the miqo’te couple’s flirtatious banter drifted across the yard. Nazyl arrived looking perennially serious and ready for business, but then again, he rarely passed up the chance to rid the Shroud of any evils, perceived or not. Finally, N’yami came out from the house hurrying to meet them, her topaz carbuncle trotting happily in her shadow.

This is how one Vanriri Vanri found them as she determinedly made her way towards the estate, relieved to find a group already assembled. She schooled her expression into one she thought serious enough to befit the situation, but not grim -- and climbed to the top of the stairs, clearing her throat.

"You are the adventurers assembled to aid in the--" She paused. Too much alliteration, better quit that. "The hunt, in the Shroud, ...for the Wood Wailers, yes?" Was that too specific? No, no, better she confirmed.

Zorah smiled warmly by way of greeting, “We are, yes. Ready to go when you are."

Content that her weapon was indeed good to go, Aislinn rose to her feet and slid it into its holster over her back. She studied the lalafell that had just arrived before nodding in wordless agreement with Zorah.

Nazyl glanced over their client. Another Lalafell, hopefully it wouldn't go like the last two times... "Alright..."

“Yup! Ready to kick names and take ass.” Aiswyda cracked her knuckles in a playful gesture, unaware of her mix-up.

That caused a wave of reactions ranging from amusement to confusion to ripple across the faces of the rest of the group but no one corrected the Seawolf.

"Wonderful!" Vanriri beamed at those before her, then seemed to realize that might be a little too chipper a response considering the circumstances, and quickly cleared her throat again. "Er, that is, the Wood Wailers extend their gratitude." She held up one finger, faltered slightly at Aiswyda's words and very severely pressed her lips into a line to keep herself from laughing. "A-ah, ahem, I've been instructed to bring you to an area near Buscarron's Druthers. If you are all prepared, of course!"

This set off a chorus of answers in the affirmative.

"I'm set to go."

"Ready as I'm going to get, I think."

"South huh? Mm." Nazyl mused. Of course, he thought of his most frequent haunt, and its countless horrors, "Alright, I'm equipped then."

Zorah glanced to Khora silently, looking him over and deciding he was good to go. "We're ready." She nodded toward Vanriri.

Khora’s ears flattened somewhat over his head. "Yes I am ready mooom..."

"Don't you start with me."

"I never stopped."

"Then let us depart!" Vanriri glanced skyward briefly. "The attacks have largely occurred from dusk 'til dawn, which should fortunately line up with our arrival." She turned on her heel as each one confirmed their readiness, and led their trek.

As the adventuring party made their way through the Shroud, dusk settled in early as the sun dipped beneath the thick canopy. Buscarron's Druthers rose up to meet them at the end of the path -- though it was much quieter than normal; commonly a buzzing hub of activity even at this time, there was barely a skeleton crew of guards stationed at every entrance. One posted at the main road nodded to them as they passed and approached the settlement proper.

Aislinn took a moment to sweep a glance around the area. "Know what kind of attacks, exactly? Any idea what we're up against?" she asked with a note of curiosity.

"No one has strictly seen the creature," Vanriri answered, glancing over her shoulder at Aislinn, "but the ...leavings from its victims have been-- ah, gruesome, if revealing in their nature. They appear to have been kills of opportunity, and have seemingly been dropped from a considerable height. ...According to reports from Stillglade Fane on the condition of the remains."

Looking off into the thicket, Aiswyda tilted her head, thinking aloud. “Dropped? Perhaps some manner of bird?”

Aislinn made a face that signaled her distaste before surreptitiously eyeing the skies above them.

The lalafell pointed further south. "By and large, victims have been found along the stretch of woods between here and Camp Tranquil, though none in the swamp itself."

"Egh, I don't like that. Issom-Har is in that area, n' all kinds o' nasteh things come from it. Closin' the door ta that hellhole has been an effort n' a half." Nazyl commented.

Vanriri nodded. "Indeed, the Wood Wailers have posited it may well be some manner of creature from the depths."

Zorah frowned as she listened, "One of those one-eyed demons, I imagine? Or imps. Grotesque things."

Nazyl narrowed his eyes, gazing south. Considering how it killed, it was either a demented tree climber or, as he assumed, a devil of some kind. They were known for their cruelty, "Imps hardleh have that kinda clevahness.”

"I am happy to defer to each of you on how best to approach; I can take you to the location of the last victim, if that is where you would prefer to begin?" Vanriri suggested.

Aiswyda turned to the lalafell with a nod. “We could find some clues there. Seems like a fine idea to me.”

Dropping her gaze from the skies, Aislinn nodded in agreement. "Aye, seems like a good place to start."

With a nod Vanriri began to lead them away from the settlement. Her back turned to them, she let a little of the dread currently turning her gut to lead to creep into her expression. Here she'd thought some kind of Shroud animal gone wild was bad enough, but fiends...

Nazyl continued to speak as they moved into the dark forest. “Imps are smart, but not enough ta keep hidden this long without bein' found out. B'sides, they're too small ta carreh someone that ain't a Lalafell.” he paused. “...A bogeyman might have that capabiliteh though..."

From behind him Aiswyda stared in uncharacteristic speechlessness at the lalafell’s back. She would defer to Nazyl’s expertise but in her mind, she wondered. But what if there were a whole troupe of imps?! The horror. She shivered.

Vanriri brought them to a halt in a forest glen that could have been any other glen for all that it failed to scream of the violence done here among the peacefully nodding branches and soft, moss covered floor. The petite lalafell pointed slightly ahead at a patch of earth that had been a little more obviously trampled. In the gloom, it was difficult to see -- but the earth bore some small sign of a heavy impact. Keen eyes might have been able to pick out bloodspill though it had, unfortunately, largely sunk into the loamy undergrowth.

Immediately, Heartwood got to work. Almost as one they fanned through the glen.

Aiswyda’s heels sunk in the soft earth, but that didn’t stop her from making her way quickly to the scene of the crime. One janky step at a time. “Hm, well. If something really was dropped from up high to here, I’m shocked it managed to make it past the canopy.”

Aislinn's eyes narrowed slightly as she sought to take in whatever Vanriri had pointed out to them but it was difficult in the waning dusk. She moved forward a bit and eventually made out the impact site. Logic had her glancing up to the canopy of trees overhead. "Maybe not just something that takes to the air, but anything that might drag a victim up into the trees?" She looked to Nazyl, wondering if he knew of anything supernatural that might fit the bill off the top of his head.

The void hunter stared at the shifted ground, looking up from where the victim would have dropped. Nothing less than lethal distance, that's for sure. But why? If for amusement, then they would have just left the body. He grimaced, by breaking someone this way it would technically make them...easier to consume. An intelligent man eater...? He couldn't determine the purpose of this bizarre ritual from sight alone, and his eyes kept to the treetops. He glanced at Aislinn, "I'm still unsure. I don't know maneh things that do this off the top of me head, but so far it's pointin' ta bogeyman. They're not fun ta deal with."

Investigating the scene was indeed proving difficult in the gloom, though Zorah was less hampered than most; she was able to make out a wide spread of blood from the point of impact, and the remnants of strange tracks besides; whatever it was, it was ...probably quadrupedal. The miqo’te’s ears twitched as she looked about, remaining silent for the time being. She had picked up on the scent of blood, that iron smell of which she was never fond. She stepped a bit closer, looking over the area, listening to them speak all the while.

"These are unfamiliar." Zorah finally spoke, gesturing to the tracks on the ground. She looked to the others, "Any of you recognize them?"

At Zorah's question, Aislinn turned her attention from the impacted earth and moved closer to where the miqo’te stood in order to get a better look but soon shook her head. The tracks were unlike anything she had ever seen. "But then again, I'm not a tracker. Either way, I say we see how far we can follow them."

Zorah smirked, "Sadly, I was one of the ones who never really got hunting and tracking down with my tribe. I spent my days in Radz-at-Han instead."

The canopy above this point was perhaps thinner than most -- broken branches and foliage were thin, and too weak to support whatever was dropped through them. Curiously, several of the branches are bent upwards however. A detail Aiswyda quickly pointed out.

“Huh. The branches here lean up. Perhaps the ‘thing’ flew up afterwards, or can emit strong gusts of wind?” She narrowed her eyes, thoughtful. But her mind drew a blank. “Sounds like a doozy.”

"Miss Vanriri Vanri, was there aneh othah reports regardin' these attacks? Sounds, tracks, anehthin'?" Nazyl asked.

Vanriri shook her head in reply. "Nothing conclusive. 'High pitched shrieking' was reported, but whether that was the creature or," she glanced pointedly at the impact site, "...otherwise..."

N'yami hung back and quietly studied the area, branches were pointed upward in an odd fashion, maybe the thing could come out of the ground? The Seeker looked over to her summon and gave a small shrug as if silently communicating with the carbuncle. Whackara chirped back at her and N'yami tilted her head curiously. Clearly she was lost in her own thoughts about this.

When the chatter and brainstorming from the group died down it soon became clear to all of them that the forest in this area was silent in a way no forest should ever be. The sounds of regular fauna were completely absent; even the buzz of vilekin seemed to be missing.

“Was the forest always this...er. Silent?” Aiswyda wandered to the edge of the foliage, searching for any sign of wildlife. She didn’t like the quiet. She was the type of person who got antsy in silence around others.

In reply, Aislinn made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. An unsettled feeling had begun to creep over her though she couldn’t articulate why. She wasn't the forest type and couldn't pick out the significance in the lack of noise but even she knew the sudden silence in a calm before a storm.

Nazyl felt a chill down his spine. "....Somethin' ain't right. There's nothin' alive here." A hand curled around Perdition, hearing his own heartbeat drumming against the silence of the forest.

“Cheeky bugger. We’re alive, aren’t we?” Aiswyda muttered. But she understood where the lalafell was coming from. Something felt different. Off.

Their observations made Vanriri stand a little straighter, apparently realizing for the first time the only sound that she could hear -- other than the group of adventurers -- was the uneasy thumping of her own heart. "Oh." She cleared her throat uneasily.

And then, beyond the gradual lull of the sound of leaves in the evening breeze far overhead came a distant sound of wings that began to echo from above...

Zorah’s ears flickered, picking up the subtle sound all too well. "Something's coming..." She spoke quickly, just loud enough for all of them to hear.

(What gruesome fate befell the forest denizens? Will Heartwood survive what comes next? Will names indeed be kicked and asses taken? Find out next time! To be continued!)

#ffxiv rp #heartwood ventures #Heartwood plots #balmung rp #N'yami Synch #Nazyl Tharazyl #Zorah Velaceras #Khora Velaceras #Aiswyda Nuthalwyn #Aislinn North #Vanriri Vanri

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